• Born in Half-Orc Tunnels to the Golden Dragon Tribe
• Golden Dragon Tribe was most powerful and most respected tribe- all other tribes had to pay tribute.
• Father’s name was Blarsh; Mother’s name was Crarsh [Fleurn].
• Blarsh was friends with the most respected warrior of the tribe who had killed the golden dragon, Brishal.
• Brishal killed the dragon only two years ago, so the Golden Dragon Tribe was new at being the top tribe.
• Brishal cannot remember killing the dragon, however.
• Archenemy’s name was Ignorsh; Narsh killed him in Garcity.
• Ignorsh was the son of Brishal and the chieftainess, Olgrag.
• Garshy was Narsh’s favorite cousin, always raided the Feywild to capture and torture fey creatures for information and then killing them.
• Narsh had another cousin named Frunwick. Frunwick was captured as an infant by fey creatures who attacked his house, left the parents alive, and experimented on Frunwick, making him more powerful and loyal to them.
• Had a brother named Shrarsh; Narsh and Shrarsh were Blarsh’s and Crarsh’s only children, which was rare.
• Shrarsh was the first half-orc in recorded history that had the Mark of Corellon. Shrarsh was chased out of the tribe.
• Mark of Corellon allowed him to become a powerful half-orc mage.
• At the same time Shrarsh was born, a girl named Orsis was born to the Godforged Colossus Tribe with the Mark of Gruumsh.
• Godforged Colossus Tribe was the ruling tribe for years and years before the Golden Dragon Tribe took over, and is now archenemy of Golden Dragon Tribe.
• Half-orcs in center of Gruumsh’s eye when half-orcs were created gained Mark of Gruumsh; it diluted throughout half-orc tribes, very rare.
• Mark of Gruumsh lets owner go into a battle rage and makes them more powerful.
• Narsh met Orsis once at a party for Narsh when she was still very young; Orsis is a celebrity among all orcs and half-orcs.
• All tribes have a party when someone important [Narsh] is going off to adventure.
• Narsh adventures for almost a year before he was killed by a Watcher of the Night while trying to escape Mithrendain.
• The Raven Queen resurrected Narsh as a revenant after 10 days in a graveyard on top of a floating island. He didn’t remember a thing.
• Unlucky for him, the graveyard was in the control of a vampire named Aureleas. Aureleas, instead of killing him, bit him and turned Narsh into a vampire as well. Then he sent Narsh out into the world, but warned him that he would call upon him from time to time to give him missions.
• Narsh traveled to Thelgaard Keep, garrisoned by Solamnic Knights. He single-handedly bit each one and turned them into vampires, then continued on through Thelgaard Pass. He reached Palanthas just as a heavy Denentheyth snow fell.
• Narsh traveled through the snows until he reached Daargard Keep, the home of Lord Soth the death knight.
• Recognizing a fellow being of darkness, Lord Soth allowed Narsh to stay in his Keep for a month until the snow cleared. Narsh asked Soth if he could work for him for rewards and Soth agreed and said he’d call him once in a while.
• Then Narsh left Daargard Keep, snuck through Vingaard Keep, and traveled north until he reached Draconian Measures, who then recruited him. Then he rejoined his old party.
You gasp a breath of cold air like it’s your first. Your eyes snap open. Colors seem dim, and every sound is foreign and filled with newness. Rather than warmth, a chill emanates from within you, making your chest feel heavy and your extremities blaze with heat. You are in a graveyard, surrounded by stones that mark the location of dead bodies—all engaged in the sleep that has been denied you.
The world appears strange, and as you struggle to rise, you have the sense that you control a body that is not your own.
And nothing is your own. You know that. You remember that. That’s when other memories come flooding back. Before this place, you struggled somewhere cold. The sky was dark, but it was also somehow alight with flowing color—as if the wind glowed instead of the stars. Snow buried everything, veiling the landscape into funeral forms. And before that, other memories—scenes, faces, feelings—all a jumble, all confused like a half-forgotten dream.
You know one thing for certain. You were dead.
Judging from how you look and feel, you might be a little dead still. You pick a direction and start walking, noting all you can about what you see and hear as you go. You might no remember everything about who you were, but you can make new memories while you try to find out.
Something else hounds your thoughts as you strike out into an eerily familiar world: The dead don’t come back to life by accident. Someone did this to you, and whoever that was had a reason. And with that thought, you remember the voice. A woman’s voice. Cold, yet gentle. Demanding, yet understanding. A voice like the flutter of soft wings.
“Arise, my champion,” the voice whispered to you as you drifted out of the darkness. “There is work to do.”