Characters

Entilzha Zauafin

Entilzha is a dark elf paladin whom has the misfortune of bearing the Horn of Fate, a mysterious object said to herald the End of the age. He does not know why he was chosen to bear the Horn, nor when (or even if) he should sound it.

Bearing the Horn has granted Entilzha a greatly-extended lifespan: he is over four hundred years old.

Entilzha is guided by one overriding desire: survival. His life's work is keeping the Horn of Fate until it is needed, and he cannot do that if he is dead.

He conceals the Horn from all, and speaks of it rarely. The Diabolist has shown an interest in the Horn; Entilzha has murdered loose-lipped men who may speak of it in places the Diabolist's spies can hear.

When the forces of the Crusader call, Entilzha answers. Hellholes are perfectly safe for a Paladin of the Crusader when there are hundreds of friendly troops around. Entilzha is rarely found on the front lines, but does his fair share of demonslaying by protecting supply lines and holding down the basecamp.

Outside of Crusading, Entilzha will actively seek out ways of harassing the Diabolist without exposing himself. Hundreds of copper-penny covens have been slaughtered in their makeshift hideouts by an "unknown attacker": Entilzha.

RP Notes

• What is the best way to keep the Horn's location a secret?
• What do I need to survive the next week?
• And how do I work killing some demons into that?

Early Life

The paladin began his life as an interrogator for the Overlord of the Spider Wood, Shurlin Quavabar. Overlord Quavabar was a paranoid mistress, accusing her subjects of plotting treason for things like talking walks with spiders. Her interrogators were regularly tasked with extracting confessions from these poor souls. When they inevitably failed to produce evidence of a plot, the interrogators were in turn accused of treason and executed. Entilzha expected his miserable life to end in this manner.

One evening, Entilzha was above-ground in the Spider Wood proper when a vision struck him: gold wyrms flying overhead, blowing trumpets, followed by something larger: an avatar of the Great Gold Wyrm. The Wyrm dropped from the sky, splintering ancient tree-trunks like toothpicks to make space for his massive form.

Entilzha wished to run, but was unable. The vision of the Avatar held him firm. It knew his name.

The Wyrm's avatar presented Entilzha with a silver horn, carved with unrecognizable runes. It named the object as the Horn of Fate, but explained next to nothing (I think DM Kyle wanted to fill some stuff in RE: what the Wyrm told me, since having a literal world-ending Horn of Barthen is slightly dangerous to the health of the campaign). The Great Gold Wyrm had chosen Entilzha to carry the Horn and keep it safe.

The Wyrm did not explain how the Horn worked, nor when Entilzha should blow the horn. In the intervening centuries, Entilzha has pieced together from rumours, sages, and blessed lunatics that blowing the horn will trigger a cataclysmic battle between demons and the material plane. The Horn caused this battle, or in other versions of the story, the Horn only heralded the battle.

The vision withdrew, and Entilzha came back to his senses. The Spider Wood was silent; the trees shattered, restored. The only difference was a silver Horn in Entilzha's hand. Uncertain, Entilzha returned home. He packed the Horn away in furs and tried to forget about it.

A handful of years passed uneventfully. Entilzha tortured whomever Overlord Quavabar needed tortured, until he was given the impossible task of unravelling the evil machinations of a dead wolf. Entilzha went through the motions of torturing the corpse to appease the Overlord.

Journey West

Entilzha dreamed of a white dragon sitting in a tavern. It told him, matter-of-factly, that he had two choices before him: die for the overlord's madness, or gather up what little he had and flee far from the reach of the dark elves. Entilzha knew the dragon was right, but had never left the Spider Wood. The dragon pressed again: die, or take the Horn and flee to the heart of the Dragon Empire.

When he awoke, he was filled with an uncanny sense of dread; in his gut, he knew this day would be his last. Wishing to live, Entilzha gathered what little he could carry without arousing suspicion, and headed for the surface. A sword and shield that he had little practice with, a sack of bread and cheese, a bedroll, and the Horn was everything Entilzha fled with.

As he made his way through the woods with the Horn of Fate, Entilzha wondered how the dragon knew about the Horn. Was it a message from the Great Gold Wyrm, or simply Entilzha's survival instinct trying to get through to him?

The first three months of the journey west were the worst. Entilzha had no bow with which to hunt, nor any skill at it. He stole what he needed to survive from travellers, homesteaders, and bandits. As his pillaged equipment and supplies built up and his survival skills developed, he went hungry less.

After Entilzha crossed the Fangs and entered the outskirts of the Dragon Empire, his journey towards Axis slowed to a crawl. He took odd jobs for humans and other races: guiding travellers through the Fangs, escorting caravans, and the occasional piece of banditry. His swordsmanship was poor for an elf, but exceeded what most humans spent their lives learning. All throughout this, he did not mention the Horn to anybody, and kept it hidden beneath his cloak.

Thirty years passed as such, and Entilzha wandered the Dragon Empire, drawing nearer and nearer to Axis. He did what he needed to survive. For a dark elf, he was kind, but would still run an ally through when their back was turned if he got even a whiff of treachery.

Arrival in Axis

Near Foothold, Entilzha was offered a job by the dwarven explorer Brutgradeth Shadowbraid: escort her and a wagon full of artifacts south to Axis. The dwarf promised little danger, but offered a staggering 300g payment, and promised Entilzha would have four other mercenaries backing him up.

Shadowbraid was tight-lipped about the artifacts. Entilzha suspected they were extracted from the nearby Hell Marsh, and the guards needed to ensure the denizens of hell did not come to collect their curios.

Entilzha declined the job, thinking the risk too high. But then, he dreamed the same tavern and white dragon that had told him to flee the overlord. This time, the white dragon told him that he had delayed long enough -- this job would take him to Axis, and give him enough gold to establish himself there, in the capital of the Dragon Empire.

Trusting the dream that had saved his life thirty years prior, Entilzha caught up with Shadowbraid and her mercenaries just as they were departing. Entilzha joined them, and made the trip. The wagon was covered, and Shadowbraid would not discuss the contents any further than "curios".

As promised, the trip was uneventful. A few stray orcs attacked the wagon early on, but were dealt with easily. After the party passed Anvil, the only thing that bothered the party was boredom.

After arriving in Axis, Shadowbraid told her guards that she needed to deal with customs paperwork. She gave Entilzha and the other guards the address for a Solace Bancshares branch office, and told him to meet here there in three hours to collect payment.

Entilzha went off on his own to explore the city for a time, and then headed to Solace to collect his due. When he arrived, he asked a Solace official if Shadowbraid had arrived. The official nodded, and escorted him to Shadowbraid's personal vault. After several minutes of disengaging the magical locks and mechanical traps, the vault door slid open.

Inside the vault were a dozen sanity-defying horrors. The dwarf was missing an eye and begging one of the demons for her life. Three more "Solace Officials" had appeared behind Entilzha and pushed him forward, into the vault.

After the initial shock faded, fear set in. Entilzha could not fight a dozen normal foes at once; drawing his sword against these monsters was out of the question.

The demons initially ignored Entilzha, preferring to continue hurting the dwarf. Entilzha stood and watched for what felt like hours as they continued to maim the dwarf and laugh at her screams, hoping for a miracle that might allow him to escape. He considered the Horn, but not knowing what it would trigger, decided to leave it for a weapon of last resort.

When Brutgradeth Shadowbraid finally died, the demons with the most elf-like shape addressed Entilzha. It introduced itself as Jaraxxus, and apologized for inconveniencing Entilzha's schedule. Jaraxxus explained that they had come to Axis to collect the Horn of Fate for their master, and that they hoped Entilzha still had it in his posession.

Before Entilzha could respond, something clanged wetly behind him, just outside the vault. A towering figure armoured in black had bisected a demon with a huge warmaul, and left a pit in the stone floor below it. Entilzha recognized the sigil on the figure's shield: the Fist of the Crusader.

Who are you, that these denizens of Hell should speak to you with respect?

— Grayson Brandur, Paladin in Service to the Crusader

An elf to be feared.

— Entilzha Zauafin

Guessing that the warrior would not have engaged unless he stood a reasonable chance of slaying the dozen demons, Entilzha pulled his sword from is scabbard. He sustained many wounds, but victory came quickly.

Entilzha's timely savior identified himself as Grayson Brandur, dispatched by the Crusader himself to dismantle a scheme by the Diabolist. was told that Entilzha had an artifact of great importance -- one that would play a role in the war between the Crusader's dark gods and the denizens of Hell -- and that it must be prevented from falling into the Diabolist's hands at any cost.

Brandur extended an invitation: return with him to First Triumph, the citadel of the Crusader, to study war.

I am grateful for your aid, but tell me: when I have walked into your lord's citadel and stand in the heart of his power, what would stop him from seizing what is rightfully mine?

— Entilzha Zauafin

Let the Emperor, the Dwarf King, and your Queen politick.
Were my Lord to covet your treasure, I would have slain you and taken it.

— Grayson Brandur

Entilzha found this to be true, and returned with Brandur.

For the next thirty years, Entilzha studied combat in all of its forms. Throughout his time in First Triumph, Entilzha had seen glimpses of the Crusader. The Crusader never stayed in his citadel for long. When a major crusade was afoot, he would ride forth with the Crusader at the head of a great host, and demons would die by the thousands.

Entilzha never forgot his near-miss in Axis. For him, every crusade was personal. Those demons had sought him out and would have killed him. Others have tried since. Through his intense hatred of demonkind, he manifested powers beyond that of most warriors, and was recognized as a Paladin of the Crusader.

After decades at First Triumph, Entilzha dreamed once more of the white dragon in a tavern. It told him that he had become mighty; woe be unto any demon that thought it could best Entilzha. It advised that the time had come for the hunted to become the hunter.

Agaib, Entilzha was unsure if the white dragon dream was a true vision or just his own imagination. He decided that these dreams, real or not, had steered him well enough before. Entilzha packed what he would need for travel and rode for Axis.

For the next three centuries, Entilzha has roamed the Dragon Empire. He stays in one place long enough to collect rumours of demonic activity. Covens, diabolist spies, and summoners all turn up butchered days after he quietly moved on. The Diabolist sometimes gives as good as she gets: Entilzha has narrowly escaped many "easy" marks that turned out to be a trap. An occasional crusade breaks up the monotony of daily life.