Henri Thangorin Stullecker is my fourth Dungeons and Dragons character and is part of my second campaign with some friends from grad school. I will provide backstory and other details of Henri in this introduction, and finish it off with a brief monologue for right before the campaign starts. It is set in a time of civil unrest in the country of Aylin, and the curtains lift on the characters while they sit down in a tavern in Galimbrah.
Henri was born in the year 894 to a Drow mother and human father while they were on the road in a traveling troupe with people from many races and backgrounds. His father, Adrien Stullecker, was a craftsman and the primary medic for the group, while his mother, Idruith Eldrea, was an oft-leading woman and helped barter with taverns when they reached towns. Henri could often be found practicing stage combat with the other children, helping his father with the group’s medical needs, or engaging in a battle of wits with his mother.
Unfortunately, an illness swept through the troupe when Henri was 11, killing Adrien and forcing the troupe to disband. Idruith took Henri back to her hometown of Northbury and took a job with a cordwainer as she continued to act at a local theatre. During these years, Henri took an interest in the written word and attended as much school as possible while still helping his mother. She recognized his interests and began tutoring him in languages learned from fellow troubadours. He was intensely curious and harbored a wish to learn medicine and save people from future illnesses, and delved into the languages, philosophy, and the history of medicine in his studies.
Henri was invited to study at the lower university in Elkavar when he came of age and left his mother behind in Northbury. He struggled to establish himself socially despite often receiving top marks, developing close relationships with only a couple of students and professors. He was teased for his half-elf heritage, which was clear thanks to his uncommon height, slightly bulkier and less sinewy physique, and facial hair for a pure elf, and his relative lack of wealth compared to his peers at the prestigious school showed his status. His cinder colored skin betrayed his Drow heritage, while the red-gold tinge to his stubble and otherwise white hair, pulled back in a braid on top as the rest fell to his shoulders, showed his human side. Once, in a fit of rage after being bullied, he unsuccessfully attempted to cut the tip of his right ear off, leaving a gnarly scar. This social isolation pushed him to focus on research as he scoured the library for answers, only sharing his findings once his research was complete. He completed his thesis on the effects of language on medical treatment and decided to continue his studies at the upper university in the hopes of reaching professorship.
Part of his motivation to further his studies was gaining access to the libraries of the upper university in the hopes of uncovering more hidden truths of the world. His focus turned to practicing medicine and searching for lost remedies through old texts from across the continent, and although he had never been a religious person thanks to his time with his parents’ troupe, he found religious texts often contained whispers of medicinal advice. He began traveling the continent searching for rare books on behalf of the school while practicing medicine in the towns along the way, which encouraged him to learn even more tongues. Henri became professionally obsessed with ideas of how language influenced medicine through his relationship with his patients, and personally obsessed with his patients’ willingness to share secrets whilst being treated.
Unfortunately, during a trip to Murk Mellow he received word that his mother was maimed in an accident at the shoe shop that left her unable to walk, and thus unable to act. Guilt-ridden but unwilling to leave his studies, Henri stopped traveling and began splitting his time between Elkavar and Northbury. His work slacked due to the stress, and the university halted his studies, offering him an opportunity to tie up his work and become an individual lecturer (ie he is employed by the university, but teaches and is paid by individual students) instead of full professor.
Several years into his work and after another session with a frustrating student, Henri decided to return to the library to distract himself. He bemoaned the fact that a ne’er-do-well could be accepted into the university solely because of his family’s stature and angry with himself that he could not find a way to properly communicate with the student. His research into how language influences learning and his communication with students and patients had taken many turns leading nowhere, and he was eager to channel his irritation at the student into inspiration. As he turned a corner to continue down another candlelit stone corridor, however, the flames guttered and went out.
The stone walls, now only lit by moonlight, faded and disappeared from view. A large figure, clothed in a flowing, midnight purple robe, was blocking the hall. It looked up and Henri saw its face was covered by a pure white mask, yet he felt his own cloud blue eyes locked onto the mask’s deep sapphire coming from the eye holes.
“Henri Thangorin Stullecker. I’ve been watching you.” said a melodious, yet direct, voice. “I am Grendelias, the goddess of secrets and treasures, and it is time for you to believe. You search for answers in books, but if you follow my direction, then you will find them elsewhere. I can lead you to the hidden depths of the knowledge you seek, knowledge of a language that can heal anyone of anything, confer with any being, and untangle all riddles of the past. It may come with a price, though. Are you willing to pay it? Perhaps you will forget the knowledge as soon as it is gained, or be unable to tell any others of it. Is it truly knowledge if it must remain unknown to all but you? If you still desire to learn this language, then leave Elkavar and the university at once. Head to Swordbreak and await my message. It may not be the safest or most comfortable journey, so do prepare wisely…”
Before Henri could respond, Grendelias turned and disappeared into the night, giving him a glimpse of her black hair reflecting the moonlight as it swung across her mask. In her place dropped a stone, pearly white in the center and surrounded by deep amethyst with tendrils of black. Henri remained frozen and indecisive for what seemed like ages - he had never been a religious man and did not believe magic had uses or powers beyond basic healing spells - and was torn between remaining in the known confines of the Elkavarian grounds and seeking divine wisdom elsewhere.
The lure of knowledge and Grendelias’ promise was too strong. Henri grabbed the stone, turned, and raced back to his quarters, imbued with an energy he knew could only come from an encounter with a god. He tore his rucksack from where it had lain unused since his return to Elkavar and hurriedly filled it with his road supplies, including a bedroll, clothes, knife, and sling. He tied his money purse to his belt and turned to go before rushing back to his desk to grab “Differential Linguistic Philosophy and its Applications to Medicine”, a book he picked up before a prior session with his student and hadn’t read through yet.
Henri left for the market square to grab the rest of his provisions and secure passage to Swordbreak. He had just finished at the general store and was heading to the outpost when he felt beckoned to see the blacksmith. Grendelias’ last words bore heavy on his mind, though his only fighting experience came from stage fighting with wooden swords as a boy. Unfortunately, the blacksmith had sold his last short sword, leaving Henri with a mace to go with his shield and chain shirt to wear under his chestnut colored academic robes. Now fully provisioned, Henri set out to catch a wagon from the outpost and seek out more followers of Grendelias in Swordbreak.
“Five months on the road. Three cities. A handful of meetings with acolytes of Grendelias, and countless attempts at more. Finally here in Galimbrah” thought Henri. “The follower in Autumn’s Watch said to look for a fellow disciple on the third night of the Harvest’s End festival. I’ll lay low at the inn until then. This town looks simple and rough…perhaps I can barter my medical skills for more fighting lessons. This darn mace still feels so unnatural, though at least I can hit game with my sling now. Huh, sun’s almost down. May as well head to the inn to grab some food before getting some reading done.”
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