(Sheets) DnD: Unchained Character Information


Jungle Girl
Oct 28, 2012
Cordelia Sutherland, Half-Elf Barbarian:

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Cordelia is a Half-Elf entertainer, raised by humans after her elven mother left her in Waymeet in her infancy. Her family soon came to face poverty, and Cordelia learned at a young age her natural charm and and talents were a great way to make coin. She picked up the pan flute and made whatever copper she could, eventually becoming a common sight on the streets, making do with whatever people would spare. Eventually, she learned the ins and outs of performing, becoming a gifted entertainer in her own right, making a decent living and helped support her parents into her teenage years. Then, things took an odd twist for the would-be bard. She found herself the victim of a vicious mugging, and were it not for the timely interference of a travelling warrior, she may have met an even worse fate. The warrior, a gruff half-orc mercenary, was friendly but distant, never telling another his name, always keeping to himself. This drew Cordelia's wonder... who was this cool, silent warrior? She had to learn more. And so Cordelia would play her flute, make her money, and use whatever spare coin she could muster to aid her search to find this mysterious man.

She'd always get very close, she narrowed his place of work to only a few possible places, and eventually found him... but what she found wasn't what she had expected at all. By now, the man had been gravely wounded, no longer of any use to his mercenary band. He had fallen into heavy drinking and was without house or home. Cordelia's parents would have none of their teenage daughter bringing home "some booze-soaked nobody", leaving the girl at a loss for what to do to help her hero. She opted to visit him every day, sharing what meager earnings she could spare. Reaching the cusp adulthood, Cordelia had grown ever so fond of "Clay", the nickname she had come to give her hero, who never did tell her anything about himself.

Eventually, things took a dark turn. Clay found himself on the wrong end of the law, and wound up imprisoned. Days later, she found out her hero had hung himself in his cell, unable to live with just how far he had fallen. Heartbroken, Cordelia could no longer bring herself to play her flute, opting to take up the life of an unskilled laborer. Not long after she turned nineteen, she found herself assaulted by one of her fellow workers. She had never been quite the same after Clay's death, something in her had died alongside the hero she had obsessed over. But this assault, this unforgivable act of lust against her, seemed to awaken something new. She found her killer instinct. Half disrobed, Cordelia bit and clawed, pushing her assailant away long enough to grab the biggest, heaviest object she could. She would hit him. Once. Twice. Thrice... over and over again, losing herself in rage, fighting like an animal to defend herself. The man lay on the ground, beaten and bloodied nearly to death, and Cordelia stood over her attacker... and found herself profoundly satisfied. She had fought with the unrefined but brutal tenacity of her hero... her Clay.

She realized then what her true calling was. She would become a warrior capable of matching the unreachable levels of her idol. Naturally, her parents forbade her from enrolling in any kind of military academy, but Cordelia was no child, not any more. Without a second thought, she returned to the streets, playing her flute... and doing other undesirable acts. Anything for the money, until she had enough to pack herself what she believed she would need to travel the lands, to find whatever work she could to sharpen her teeth and become a budding mercenary. One day she met a band of travelling merchants, and offered her services as a caravan guard. Though inexperienced and not exactly the brawniest, the band seemed to like her and took her on board. Her natural charm saw her useful to the caravan in more than a few ways, and over the next several years, she grew accustomed to her work, slowly but surely becoming a proper warrior. No fighter, her style lacked grace, imitating the wild abandon with which her idol had shown her on that day. Eventually, she grew apart from her caravan, seeking something more appropriate for the skills she had developed. Thus, she again ventured out into the wild frontier to find work befitting her new skills...
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