Blog / The Archmage's Ruminations

Nimloth’s Saga Episode 1: An introduction


Blogmaster Helen Cothrel, hc261409@ohio.edu

Today, I begin a series of posts detailing the adventures of a Dungeons and Dragons character of mine. You may hear “Dungeons and Dragons” and shudder. I understand; even being a nerd myself, there was a time when I shied away from such blatant displays of nerdery. Even if you feel similarly, I suggest you give D&D a chance.

With the onset of blogging from Ian Shaw, who with his vast knowledge and expertise will soon be writing about board games for us here at Beta Fish Magazine, I was left with a decision: on what did I want to focus the majority of my blog posts? A number of my friends, knowing I play with a weekly Dungeons and Dragons (Pathfinder) group, suggested I write about our campaign. I was then faced with another decision. Do I write about game mechanics? Or, should I frame it as a story? I sought counsel from my friends and they encouraged me to write it out as a story. So without further ado, here is the beginning of my tale.

(If you have questions, comments, or requests about D&D or the story itself, leave a comment!)

———————–

I will begin with a rough profile, so as to give you an idea of who your narrator might be. My name is Nimloth. Though I rarely rise to my full height I stand over six feet tall. This, coupled with my unnaturally thin frame and distinctively pointed ears, set me apart from the humans with whom I spent much of my time growing up. I was born to a human father and an elven mother a number of years ago. I haven’t kept track of time well, but I could hazard a guess that I am in my early twenties. My blonde hair tumbles lazily around my shoulders down to my lower back; it is unruly and I seldom find the motivation to attempt to tame it.

As a child I spent much of my time alone. I was unable to reconcile my origin with those of my human peers, who had little interest in the towering, outlandish girl who lived among them. I quickly learned to speak little and keep to myself. My education was varied, but infrequent, and I was eventually driven to look for work in the city at a relatively young age. I took up as an apprentice to a mortician, who didn’t mind my silence and appreciated my attention to detail.

I spent several years in the company of this mortician. I worked diligently and my knowledge of anatomy grew steadily. I thrived in the calm and predictable environment, but abundant thoughts of mortality were unavoidable. My employer was familiar with the way depression tended to settle slowly on her apprentices like dust on a forgotten shelf and tried to be supportive. I shrugged off most of her attempts to console me, instead burying myself ever further into my work.

By the time I was in my late teens, I slept rarely. Full meals were few and far between. To me, the world was lackluster and full of nothing but death and horrible ways to find it. I didn’t care for myself well and it eventually manifested itself when I fainted as I was walking the streets of the city one day. Luckily, a neighbor was nearby and came to my aid and found my condition to be frightening. Despite my many years undertaking, I was closer to death than I had ever been before.

My recuperation was sluggish. It was half-complete when, disillusioned with the city and the people in it, I finally fled. Although I barely had the strength I traveled on foot for several days before becoming lost in a massive forest beside the road. It was midsummer and I was astounded by the profusion of life around me.

The vibrancy of the fauna and flora in all directions awakened something long-dormant in me. I felt the breath of nature fill my tired lungs. From that first day onwards, I gradually learned the lay of the land. My eyes had opened, and the forest accepted me with open arms. I began to spend time meditating among the verdure and the taint of mortality slowly leaked out of my thoughts. I vaguely remembered lessons I had once been taught of an ancient deity, Gozreh, to whom I began to pay tribute.

A few years of consistent meditation and service to Gozreh culminated when I began to find and unlock power in myself. I found myself not only revering, but also communicating with the life in the forest around me. I discovered that magics and poisons revealed themselves to my volition, and with enough concentration I could make a simple branch shine like a torch. I was no longer a mere forest-dweller; the power of nature manifested itself in me and I embraced it.

I had become a druid.

Find episode 2 and meet Nimloth’s party here.

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5 thoughts on “Nimloth’s Saga Episode 1: An introduction

  1. Pingback: Nimloth’s Saga Episode 6: Lightning and Cowardice | Beta Fish Mag

  2. Pingback: Nimloth’s Saga Episode 5: Ghastly Discoveries and an Evening Roast | Beta Fish Mag

  3. Pingback: Nimloth’s Saga Episode 4: The Bandit Manor | Beta fish mag

  4. Pingback: Nimloth’s Saga Episode 3 | Beta fish mag

  5. Pingback: Nimloth’s Saga Episode 2: Meet the Fighters | Beta fish mag

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