Serafina Moonwave

Elf / Cleric

Submitted character story

My family descends from a long lineage dating back to the era of the Old Empire of Aryselmalyr. According to the archives, ours was one of the most influential families devoted to the cult of Deep Sashelas. One of my ancestors served as the leader of the acolytes in the greatest temple of the imperial capital. He passed this duty to his son, and so on through the generations. Above them stood only the imperial family, the high cleric of the temple, and the gods themselves.

On the day the empire fell, when Iakhovas devoured and devastated the capital, the few survivors became convinced that the acolytes were to blame for the attack. The gods had turned against them, and the Prince of Dolphins had been dishonoured through weak service. Nothing and no one remained of the temple except the grandson of that elf from whom I descend, though even his name has now been lost to my family.

From that moment onward, our society changed drastically. Social divisions became increasingly severe, and the tyranny of the gods, the clergy, and the powerful grew stronger with every passing generation.

Generations later, my father carried the duty of acolyte, a role that had become harsher and more demanding with time. My mother always stood beside him in support. Many years ago, before I was born, an accident occurred during one of my father’s rituals, and the gods who ruled over us wasted no time blaming him for it. My mother, who was with him at the time, lost both her eyes and her left arm. She was the elf who taught me about our culture, our history, and our duty.

As a result, my family lost its possessions, its honour, and its allies, falling to the very bottom of society beneath the sea. We survived however we could for as long as I can remember. My father did everything in his power to restore our family’s name, but after being accused of crimes tied to the incident, he was sentenced to death by the high clergy while I was still a child.

I am the second of six siblings. Our clan was reduced to an incapacitated mother and six starving mouths to feed.

Among sea elves, honour and promises belong only to those whose lips forge them and to their bloodline. Inheritance is nothing but a burden. So I watched my older sister, Rubyra, take responsibility upon herself — an elf of barely five decades, while I was only slightly younger. Frightened as we both were, we promised one another that together we would carry the burden of our family with honour and responsibility.

Every night we went to the old temple where our father had once served as an acolyte, and we prayed for him, for our mother, for our ancestors, for our siblings, for an end to the curse haunting our bloodline. Neither the gods of the sea nor the Prince of Dolphins ever answered. Because of our family’s reputation, we were often persecuted and mistreated by the higher classes of our society.

One night, while returning from the temple, we were kidnapped by pirates. The next morning I felt the warmth of sunlight and the comforting scent of salty sea air filling my lungs. When my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw a wooden plank extending from the ship’s deck. Bound from head to toe, Rubyra and I were to be cast into the ocean as tribute to a Kraken to whom the pirates owed a debt.

My sister was first.

I watched two pirates lift her onto their shoulders. I fought desperately to free myself and save her, but I could not even remove the gag from my mouth to say goodbye. When her body struck the water, there was no splash — only a terrible sound that pierced my ears.

I prayed.

But not to any god I had ever known.

In that moment, every memory of honour and family vanished from my mind. I prayed for death. For the death of the pirates who had stolen my sister from me. I prayed for justice for my family. I closed my eyes, felt the saltwater of my tears running down my face, and I prayed for death.

Something answered.

Kelemvor, the god of the dead who seeks righteous judgement, answered me.

As soon as the sea gods learned of it, I was summoned immediately to the royal palace in the capital — a place I had not seen since my father’s death when I was little, nor since being separated from the rest of my siblings. They intended to punish me for the outrage of offering my prayers to another god. But then they realised I could be valuable because of the powers I had gained.

So they made me an offer.

My family’s honour would be restored, and our survival guaranteed by the gods, if I devoted my life to carrying out missions for the kingdom. Otherwise, I would die — and my family would die with me.

For decades now I have upheld that promise with honour, growing stronger and closer to my god, always using my powers to help others. At this moment I am on a mission that crosses paths with my own past: the hunt for the Kraken that now threatens all of our society.

I do not seek revenge, and I cannot allow my grief for my sister to consume me. I only wish to complete this mission professionally and honourably. It was through this mission that I crossed paths with my current companions.

But questions still haunt me.

Is my family truly safe?
Do they know the truth about my mission, or do they hate me?
Will our society ever become just?
Could these companions become my first and only true friends?
Will I ever be free of this burden?

Until then, I will continue to do my best with humility and fairness, helping others whenever I can. I do not know how to live any other way.