A fit, tall, and well formed young male half-elf with silver eyes, gold pupils, deep bronze skin tone, and close cropped mahogony hair.
Jerah Silverleaf – physical description
Despite the modest and nondescript leather armor, the figure before you is impressive in stature. Standing at 6’5" and a fit 210 pounds, the broad shoulders are swept back into a military posture as the armored figure takes long powerful steps. The only departure from the leather protective gear is a mail coif which covers the skull and neck; a thin metal facemask fitted to the coif. Through the eye slits of the facemask peer an oddity -silver eyes with golden pupils.
One of the gloved hands holds a longspear fitted with a point not of metal, but of dwarven stone; at several points along the shaft are fitted small stone pegs into precisely drilled holes. Upon the back of the figure is worn an adventuring pack fitting with quick-release straps, and a spear quiver which holds two javelins and a spear. The other gloved hand of the figure is encumbered with a rather large shield which has been painted a uniform thundercloud gray. A lamp is fitted to the top of the shield.
The final visual detail of the figure is summed up by a potion belt which currently holds two vials. However, there seems to be something more. Something about the way figure moves and carries itself carries a sense of charisma and confidence. This appears to be a man who not only wears armor and carries weapons, but also knows how to use such instruments of war.
A fit and well formed 6’5" and 210 pound young man with very exotic features appears before you. His skin is a deep bronze and slightly pointed ears as well as striking angular features betray a piece of elven heritage blended into his blood; most probably wood elf, but there is something more. The first thing you notice are his silver eyes with their gold pupils. As you stair at the spectacle and watch him speak, you also catch glimpses of a silver tongue. Close cropped mahogany hair tops the attractive head.
A sleeveless deerhide jerkin with oval wooden buttons fits snuggly around a well formed chest and shows off nicely cut arms. Heavy leather pants and leggings cover the lower half of the figure, and they appear equally adept at being clothing and armor. A pair of simple yet well made boots complete the attire.
Name: Jerah Silverleaf
Race: Half-Elf (wood) w/ Celestial Bloodline
Easily noticed Reaction Modifiers:
+1 from appearance; +1 from charisma
Unnatural features: Silver eyes with gold pupils; silver tongue
Jerah Silverleaf (background)
The legends of Faerun are multitude and encompass many eras of time. Nearly as long as there have been villains, dungeons, and monsters, there have been men and women willing to answer to call to heroics and face them. The rampaging dragon is slain by the shining knight; nefarious sorcerers are confronted by moral mages in white, and the pious and devout of heart venture into hells to remove paragons of injustice and sin from the world.
In a previous generation, there were born two heroes; each to very different worlds. One was birthed among a small group of elves who had made a temporary home in the Ardeep Forest; the other was found
abandoned as an infant by Knights of St. Vigius as they cross Stone Bridge. The former grew to be Amayn Banni’undlin, and she spent most of her early life among her kin as a semi-nomadic hunter and gatherer among the wilds of the world. The latter grew to be Charles Scott; not knowing his blood, the Knights of St. Vigius became his family; as he grew, he became first a squire, and finally a full fledged knight of his own renown.
Born of two different worlds the two would come to know each other during a time of trouble. As has been the case many times, the area around Waterdeep was rife with peril. So it was that a walker of the elven wilds of the world and a champion among the law of man would come to know each other first as allies against an evil, then friends, and eventually lovers. The details of their stories can be found spoken of around certain campfires or written upon the pages of certain libraries. I mention their names now because their story would lead to another’s beginning.
Twenty years ago, on the third day of Kythorn, the weaving of Amayn and Charles’ threads blossomed into a child. The slight point to his ears were expected; that was no surprise to the parents -one elven and one human. What did come as a surprise were the unique silver and gold eyes of the child as well as the white tongue he was born with. His father recognized the features as a manifestation of celestial blood, and the child was embraced as a blessing. The child was given the name Jerahmeel -a holy name.
For a while, the couple and their child settled in Waterdeep. By this time, Charles had started to feel the pains of age and adventuring injuries. The fortunes he had earned as a hero as well as those earned by Amayn made for a rich household and propelled them into the high society of the city. Their child would have no worry of going hungry or living as a pauper.
While such was fortunate for the child, the still young (by elven standards) Amayn never felt truly at home chained to the city life and the life of an aristocrat; when Jerahmeel had reached an age where he longer required the constant attention of a mother, she left the city; returning to visit from time to time, but never staying for more than a few days. The normal conflict that often develops between father and son was only made worse by Charles’ revolving door of mistresses who made rather poor surrogate mother figures; at age seventeen, Jerahmeel was sent away to a military school.
By this point, Jerahmeel’s tongue had darkened from white to silver; as might be expected, a half-elf with a silver tongue and silver eyes with gold pupils drew attention from his school mates; not always in a good way. Though, in spite of his unique appearance, in time, his classmates came to respect him. He had a sense of charisma as well as a confidence which appealed to young military minded individuals; he proved himself a capable of leader during training exercises. There was also the fact that he grew into a fit 6’5" and 210 pound young man who had the strength to match his appearance. He was being groomed into a champion; one which may have rivaled some of the most legendary of heroes; his natural abilities would some day have been hardened and sculpted into a diamond among diamonds. Such would not come to pass.
Several months ago, he had received word that his father had passed, and he was to be summoned back to Waterdeep for the execution of his father’s estate. An already heavy-hearted journey was made only worse by the unsatisfying conclusion. Not only were the details of his father’s death obscured and vague, the entire estate had been claimed by his father’s most recent mistress and her snobby daughters. Though the circumstances were suspect, the letter of the law and contracts enforced the outcome. Jerahmeel was left penniless, distraught, and disenfranchised with the establishment.
Even with his father’s estate having been usurped by apt legal maneuvering, the usurper (Breanda Rosznar, the middle daughter of the noble House Rosznar) couldn’t get Jerah stripped of nobility. Hence, he is still considered a noble, and is subject to the law of Noblesse Oblige. In essence, this means he can take any legal dispute to the Lords’ Court, where he’d have the advantage of your blood. Born of champions and birthed into nobility, he nevertheless found himself darkened from the light and penniless.
Unable to pay to continue his education and determined to some day discover the true details of his father’s death (as well as to some day reclaim his birthright,) his only choice seemed to be to stay in Waterdeep. Thankfully, employment for those skilled in arms and armor is not difficult to come by in a town such as Waterdeep. He shortened his name to Jerah and created the surname Silverleaf (even with his exotic looks, his elven heritage was impossible to hide) for himself.
Work was to be had escorting shipments of valuable goods for merchants who would rather not deal with squeamish details as well as with the city watch who was often short staffed and in need. Once or twice he had even found work as an escort for a well to do madam in need of arm candy for a social function; his exotic look was a novelty, and he was an attractive man in his own right. One way or another, he got by well enough to eat, sleep, and even on occasion be merry. He started to enjoy his work as a sellsword; take pride in it.
So it was that he did not hesitate to answer the call of another job posted on a local board. Sergeant Crale, a member of the watch, was in need of someone to help with a problem. The details were stated as being given on a need to know basis. The money from the last job was beginning to run low; if he wanted to eat, he needed to work; as such, he needed to know. So it was that he woke up this morning, pulled on his boots, grabbed his spear, and walked proudly to where this story; his story, now begins.
Update: Working for the watch did not pan out. It was profitable enough to cover expenses, but nothing more. As such, Jerah now seeks his fortunes in Undermountain.