My Home

Cyre was my home.  My life.  I protected it’s borders throughout the whole of, what the paper call, The Last War.  The war is far from over.  Firstly the treacherous Elves of Valenar took land from us with blood.  Followed closely by the betrayal of the Goblioids of Darguun, who slaughtered our troops while they slept.  Finally the Day of Mourning wiped out what was left of our beautiful country.  My family are still missing, even after four years.  Many on my countrymen have given up hope.  Made homes where they can.  Some on the borders of the Dead Grey Mist, others as far as Stormreach on the wild continent of Xen’Drick.  Me?  My home is Cyre.  The haunted, feared Mournlands.  I pass through the grey mist rarely, it’s powers drain your emotions, make your depressed.  That is if you don’t become lost forever or wander into the hands of some beast.  Beyond the mist, where I belong, is no better.  The mist overhead block out the sun, casting the land in blurry light.  Spells cast of the Day of Mourning wander the barren land with no master.  The howling of the Mourners, ghosts of those betrayed by their commander, search for people to add to their ranks.  Carcass crabs lay in wait in the piles of dead bodies that do not rot nor decay.  Lakes of blood, mountains of ice and shifting cities are the new unnatural landscapes of my home.  Intruders in the form of lost Warforged, gather under the banner of a god like being calling itself the Lord of Blades.  The insane black dragon soars the skies searching for his friends.  On top of all this, healing spells do not work your only hope in Goodberry Juice, or if the land has mercy on you and a well of healing pops up in your path.  Why am I still here?  My family is probably long dead.  The countryside is not where I spent my childhood playing.  I’m still here because I have no where else to be.  After all this is my home and it needs protecting from the Elves and Hobgoblins and the Undead.  I am Weyand the Dwarf from Cyre.

Ruashk, The clanless dwarf

The giant was close to death. Ruashk knew it as he breathed in the smell of fresh blood. The dwarf stood by the bodies of the fearless strangers. The gnome and shifter were already in battle by the time Ruashk had found them, now they lay cold on the mountain floor, their caraven now nothing but fire wood. This giant was powerful but the gnomes witchcraft and the shifters sharpe eye and crossbow had weakened it. Now nothing stood between the monster and these brave people, except Ruashk the clanless dwarf. His beard mattered in blood and dirt. With an almost bestial howl the dwarf dug deep and felt all his muscles tence with power. "Only death will stop me know." he shouted in the face of the giant as he leapt passed a flying boulder. Ruashk ducked passed a falling fist and drove his mighty hammer down on the hand. The deafening crack told him he has broken the mighty hand. In reaction the giant wildly swung his arm trying to take the dwarf off his feet. Ruashk however threw his hammer down and held out his own hands, with all his strength he took the brunt of the attack without loosing his footing. The giant yelled with anger and pain and bought his head down to see his enemy up close. This was the oppurtunity Ruashk was waiting for. He grabbed his waraxe from his back and with the last of his strength he drove the weapon into the chin of the giant. The power almost spilt the giants skull in half. Ruashk's rage dropped, his energy gone. A metal man came from behind. The dwarf swung a closed fist at it but the mental man just grabbed his hand and then put his hand on Ruashk's back and lowered the dwarf to the floor. " Rest. You are safe."
The dwarf could do nothing more then let sleep take him.

Kali, Cliffwalker thief

Kali paced back and forth behind the bars of the prison cell. 'stupid stupid stupid' she muttered to herself. All the while, from the corner of her eyes, the young Shifter was working out a third escape route. If only the gaurds would venture out of eye shot for a second. Kali knew they wouldn't, she had been caught stealing five times now and each one she had spent less than an hour in jail. Today the Sharn city watch were taking no chances. Hours past and when Kali thought nothing interesting could happen a gaurd walked in with a gnome at his heel. Yet the small person held all the power. "leave" his voice was quite but seemed to echo on the stone walls of the prison tower. The gaurds did. "Now Kali"
"How do you know my name?" she hissed her velvet fur twitched slighly.
"Shush child. I know many things. I especially know how skilled you are and that you are wasting your time in this city. I offer you a way out. Work for me, use your talents as I command and you will have a bright future. My caravan leaves at dawn at the gates of the city.". With a wave of his hand the gnome made the bars at the window vanish.
"I could have..." Kali started
"I know but time is ebbing away." the gnome walked out and Kali moved to the window. Like the rest of her bloodline Kali shifted, to some this meant gaining more raw power or growing nasty teeth or claws, Kali's power was a little more athletic. She felt her body become more flexable and tiny claws grew from the tips of her fingers. Not large enough to do damage but to help grip onto vertical surfaces like the towers of Sharn. With animal like reflexes she leapt out the window and grabbed to the side of the building. Looking down she saw bridges that connected each tower to one another. Luckily she found hights relaxing. She scurried up the side of the tower and only stopped when she reached a safe place to hide. At dawn she made her way to meet the gnome, as big as Sharn was, Kali thought a change of enviroment might be in order.

Vagabond Cleric of the Traveler

Vagabond sat in silence. His eyes glowed purple in the light of the everbright lantern. While his recent companions slept the Warforged sat, his body of mithral and wood creaked slightly as he crafted a statue out of the scrap mental he carried. As he created the piece of art Vagabond let his memory come to the front of his always active mind. Years ago as Vagabond was wandering the wilderness of his former home of Cyre, an old man came to him and showed him the entire world had not been reduced to what is now known as the Mournlands. The man escorted the warforged through the cold mist and into a land of green. Two years past as the two of them traveled to distant lands and forgotten places. All the time the old man taught the Warforged about freedom of the road, how everything changes and how to adapt to these changes. The old man re-named the warforged to Vagabond and expressed how he had never had a follower that never rests. The old man reveled himself as the last remaining god to walk on Eberron. Vagabond, with no other direction after the war, embraced the idea of a god and dedicated his life to the folks that travel. 
A twig snapped and Vagabond's mind raced to the current situation. The sun was rising and the book reading gnome he healed days before walked up to him. "oh my, did you create that?"
Vagabond looked down to see his finished work, a perfect replica of one of those airships that can travel faster than anything he knows about. "yes, I did"
With that Vagabond snapped the metal ship into half and then half again while whispering words of pray and then placed the bits into his bag for the next night. The gnomes eyes shot open. "My word son! That would have feteched a fortune in the markets of Wroat. Why destory such beauty?"
"Change. It is the way of my god. The way of the Traveler."

Huason the Gnoll Hunter

Huason crouched just behind the rock.  He slowed his breathing and readied a bolt in his hand crossbow.  Covered in manure Huason was confident the hyena like Gnolls could not detect him by scent.  He had been hunting these monstrous creature years before the end of the Last War.  Slowly the shifter counted to five, each deep breath representing a number.  And then he spotted her.  A scout for the war party.  Swearing under his breath Huason let his crossbow bolt fire true.  It struck the Gnoll between the eyes but not before it let out a howl to warn the others.  Swearing again the shifter quickly put his ranged weapon away and drew out two small axes.  These Gnolls where quicker than he gave them credit for.  The surrounded him in no time.  One on top of the rock Huason hid behind, five more move into position.  With a low growl the shifter reached down into himself.  His lycanthrope heratige granted his race to bring forth some beatial features and abilities, some could manifest claws, others wings.  Huason’s ability was speed.  He felt the muscles in his legs become stronger, his nostrals widened to help air reach into his expanding lungs, from his bare feet claws grew and dug slightly into the ground to give him traction.  Suddenly the first Gnoll attacked.  Huason ducked and swung an axe into it’s stomach, emptying the beasts inside onto the floor.  Another one tried to attack but Huason, however, saw a different threat, the other two on the ground began to form up for a double team.  Huason ran.  The first Gnoll looked surpised and swung a vicious looking sword.  The shifter flipped over the weapon ran even further and faster than the Gnolls could register.  He stopped, turned and used his momentum to slide backwards at the Gnolls as he thrust out his to axes to cut open the double teaming Gnolls.  In the same second Huason threw on of the axes at the still confused Gnoll who had attacked him first.  The throwing axes embedded itself into the back of it’s head.  The final Gnoll leaped from the rock with a howl.  Huason managed to leap up and out of the way and darted with great speed to a safe distance.  He turned and threw the last axe which took the monster out easily.  Huason let his body relax and back to it natural state.  Smiling the shifter retrived his axes and made his way deeper into Droaam, the nation of monster and the home to a lot more Gnolls.