Fights with a big ole' greatsword

Olote (Blossom in Elvish) is a Winter Elf from Clan Korko high in the Great Glacier. With the death of her sister Vanya during their great battle with the Walking Man, she is the last of her clan, as she and her sister were the last survivors of the clan after they were attacked and wiped out by gnoll tribes in the far north.

The scar across her left eye is a reminder of that day. She is a short, wiry elven woman with pale skin and pale hair and is a practitioner of sword and magic, combining the two. When danger threatens, she wears a white suit of mithril chainmail emblazoned with a Black Crow upon it, and wields Agganalo, her Greatsword. Fell magic is delivered from her through her blade, weakening and sickening her foes, and draining them of their life.

She generally is not willing to teach magic to any who ask, as her magic is frowned upon by society, but if there is a need, she will indulge.

Otherwise, she is a simple woman, who eschews material goods and lives simply, in the way of her clan. The scars of the loss of her people is constantly evident.




Agganalo, Olote's Greatsword



I am Olote Damrodil. I was born to Olotorin and Sasha Damrodil in 400 D.R. I am a Winter Elf, born into Clan Korko (Clan of the Crow in the human tongue) and together with my younger sister Vanya, lived in our Clan's villages on the Igotak Sea high in the Great Glacier Lands, in the Cold Lands. The land is rich in resources and abundant in life, but to those who don't understand life in the colder climates, that abundance of life might not always be visible. Also living in the Cold Lands are dwarven clans, and many humanoid tribes that wage war on the elves, dwarves, and humans, that live in these chilly lands.

In the Cold Lands, Winters are harsh, spring and summer are short and intense, and Auril's chill comes quickly in the fall.

Gnolls were always the chief enemy of my clan and they brought the death of my people in 500 D.R. Ju'Gat the Dread Gnoll had made an unholy bargain with some being from beyond and organized the tribes into a single unit and they descended upon our people in droves, with the walking dead aiding them. Only because Vanya and I were at the Grandmother Tree did we escape the carnage. Even then, we fought valiantly to save the Grandmother Tree from unliving abominations, and this scar on my face is a result of that fight. When we finally made it to the village, everyone was dead. We burned the bodies to prevent them from rising as soliders in Ju'Gat's army, and then we left. We ended up heading south, into the warm lands where we wandered for a few years.

Vanya was level headed. I was obsessed with avenging my family.

My thoughts took me to a place where I justified the use of the same magic that destroyed my village and my clan, to enact revenge. I completed my magical training and mastered the arts of necromancy. Hiding that from Vanya was impossible, and she was disappointed in me but she said nothing. Revenge was sweet, and we trekked back north after a few years, and completed the cycle of life, karma's wheel came full circle for Ju'Gat.

After that, we ended up traveling south to a place where others of our race, different branches of the tree, gathered, and we ended up joining the Company of Light.

Nothing was said about my proclivites with magic, as at the time, all hands on deck as they say when a big fight is coming.

Vanya's death left a huge hole in my heart. My sister had been my traveling companion and confidant after the death of our people, and she had joined the company with me. With her death, I was truly the last of my clan.

Part of that hole has been healed by Domaris Sharpshield. I did not intend to fall in love with the dwarven lass, but it happened, and life is much better for it.