Temple of Elemental Evil
Cronan is an adult human male of above average height, with a lean muscular build. He has light brown hair and brown eyes that almost look red in the right light. He wears a black hooded uniform with matching armor. On either hip hangs a handaxe and across his chest is a bandoleer full of useful trinkets and 2 Kunai. He keeps a well built backpack stocked with survival gear near him at all times.
Born in a small village, Ivor lived a pretty basic life until he was 8 years old. He had two loving parents, an older brother, and a pet dog. Then the barbarians came. His village was attacked, the militia was overpowered, and that’s when Ivor’s life ended.
Ivor could only watch as his mother was cut down trying to protect her two sons, their dog was bludgeoned to a bloody pulp, and their house set ablaze. The barbarians took he and his brother captive along with five other children in the village, and fled back to their compound in the mountains. The children were thrown into cages and kept there for weeks. Every few days, the raiding party would come back with another handful of children until there were about 25 in all. They were fed well, and checked on regularly for illnesses. When the clan chieftain seemed satisfied with the collection of children, they were moved to an area just outside the compound that had recently been cleared. Each day the children were forced work on digging out a large pit about 50 feet in diameter and 5 feet deep. Each day they dug, and each day the children of the clan watched them, as if sizing them up. While digging up the pit, Ivor came across a sliver of rock about the size of a small dagger. Something told him to pocket it, and he did; each night slowly and quietly he honed the blade against the rocks in his cell. The children worked hard because they were told this could help them earn their freedom, and it only took about a month to dig up the pit to their captors satisfaction. The captive children were given a few days of rest as the clan setup for festivities around the pit they dug. They had no idea what was to come until it was too late.
The night of the festival, they learned the true purpose of their capture and the pit. Many children of the clan were to become adults. Ivor’s brother was the first to be chosen, the rules were explained clearly to all present as he was carried to the pit by a large barbarian. Two children enter, one adult left the pit; moreover if one of the captive children were to win, they would earn their freedom, and a place among the clan. “You keep what you kill!” exclaimed the chieftain, “If you take their life, then it is yours to live!” Ivor watched helplessly as his brother and about a third of the children were killed one by one in the pit. Though they had all grown stronger by digging the pit, none of them were a match for the children of the clan.
Ivor’s turn came, and the large barbarian grinned as he opened the cage. “Come fight the little dark one,” he called, “Come fight Cronan!” The barbarian grabbed Ivor by the collar and picked him up, yanking him out of the cage. A voice from nowhere whispered in Ivor’s ear, “Now!” Ivor instinctively what to do. In a fluid motion, he drew his stone knife and jammed it up underneath the barbarian’s chin and followed through by kneeing the blade until it was fully embedded in the skull. When he landed, he grabbed the hatchets from the dead man’s belt and turned to the pit. The barbarians were shouting, chaos was erupting, and he charged toward it. He lept into the pit and took out the boy named Cronan before he could even react. The roar of chaos was silenced. When Ivor looked up the entire clan was dead. Black arrows sprung from the chest of many of them, and other smoldered from magical attacks. Ivor turned and saw a party of soldiers, clad in black. The children were rescued, order had overturned chaos. A man approached him and asked him his name. Ivor began to answer, “I’m,” and then paused. He thought to himself, Ivor is dead, he died 2 months ago. He smirked and continued, “I’m Cronan,” he had earned this name. The man then offered to take him to a new home that would let him hone his new skills, and Cronan eagarly accepted.
The surviving children were all taken in to an orphanage that had ties to the soldiers that rescued them. Most spent the rest of their childhood in the main part of the orphanage, but Cronan and a select few were taken to the school below. This school was the true purpose of the orphanage, a place to train future mercenaries and assassins, like the band that had rescued Cronan. Cronan was driven to succeed, and surpassed most his peers with ease. He was selected for advanced training and learned no only survival and hunting techniques, but the basics of tinkering and traps. He was resourceful and apt at combat with just about any weapon, though he preferred using twin handaxes.
Ten years after his rebirth, Cronan is now out in the world searching to bring new recruits to the school that trained him.