Trekkan's Backstory

Trekkan

JFF Administrator
Staff member
This is the backstory for my character for a Pathfinder game I am playing with some people from work. You probably don't care about it... but if you do, I hope you enjoy the read. =)

This started out as a couple bullet points and then... didn't end up there... heh It's designed to cover the following skills and whatnot that my character has.

Ranger
Half Elven
Chaotic Good

He's a Bowyer and Herbalist, has a masterwork longbow and a magical quiver (although he doesn't know how to use it yet). He doesn't know his real parents and is now an orphan.

His favored enemy are trolls, and how he also got his name.

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A bowyer by trade, Tek-ar was out searching for the materials of his craft when he heard a small cry from nearby. Moving closer to the sound, it appeared as though the sound was coming from the hollow of a tree that had been split by lightening decades ago. Peering inside, Tek-ar saw to his surprise, a baby boy covered in soft loam to keep him warm and comfortable. If not for the baby's soft cries Tek-ar may not have found him at all.


Oddly, the child seemed perfectly comfortable and happy, as if it were normal to be a baby left alone in the forest. Such an odd thing to run across in this forest for sure. Not knowing what else to do, Tek-ar took the child home to his wife, Adara.


Once home, the couple were surprised to find that the child had small points to his ears, as if part elven. While this was strange, it was not unheard of in these lands to see those who were part Elven, part Human. Not knowing what else to do and not willing to leave the child where Tek-ar had found him, they decided to leave a note carved into the tree with directions to their small village in case the child's parents came looking for their son. For in the lives of elves, time is nothing and their message should withstand a good measure of time.


Being a young couple in their early twenties, Tek-ar and Adara were just starting out their married lives and looking forward to having children of their own. Maybe the baby's parents would appear, but if not Tek-ar and Adara were willing to start their family now. Not knowing the child's birth name, Adara and Tek-ar decided to name him "Trekkan," for 'he who treks across the land' in honor of his Elven heritage and the manner in which they found him.


As Trekkan grew and the years passed he was as welcome in the small village as one born there, he was after all a lifelong citizen. As most children do, Trekkan followed in the footsteps of his adoptive parents. Following his father, he took up the trade of a bowyer. Perhaps his elven blood may have helped in his skill with the bow and craft, as there were no others in the village who could shoot as accurately or as fast as he was able. He was almost as good of a bowyer as his father, and an even better archer.


He was also an adept herbalist, trained by his mother, and she by her mother, in a line unbroken for six generations. Every morning from the time he could walk, he would walk through the forest with his mother, in search of mushrooms, moss, bark, roots and many other types of plants that only the forest could provide. After years of practice he could create poultices for healing wounds and to treat many different ailments. He was also able to create salves of various types, some that would mask the scent of man, others that would attract beasts of the forest and many others. He was always amazed at the amount of knowledge his mother had of the forest and its plant life.


On his 16'th birthday, or what they called his birthday, which was actually the anniversary of the day he was found in the forest, he was presented with a gift from his father. Tek-ar was the only father he knew and the only father he needed. Trekkan knew what he was going to find. He'd seen his father working on a "special" project for months now and knew his father had crafted him his own bow. As Trekkan unfolded the oilcloth he gasped in surprise. Inside was a bow, so finely crafted he'd never seen the likes of it before. It far surpassed the quality and craftsmanship of any other bow he had ever seen his father make. It gleamed in the sunlight, traces of silver embedded down its length, almost magical in its appearance.


Trekkan asked his father as to how he had created such a magical bow. His father laughed, but had a tear in his eye as he told Trekkan that the only magic within the bow, was his love for Trekkan. It was indeed the finest bow his father had ever produced, or would ever produce again. It was his gift, to carry on their craft and to show how much the baby found in the woods that day meant to him.


Overwhelmed, Trekkan stood there with the bow in his hands, unable to do much more than continue to wonder at it. A small cough was heard from his mother’s direction. She smiled and said "That is the gift from your father, but there is one more gift that is to be yours this day." From behind her back, she presented Trekkan a quiver (Quiver of Ehlonna). It was made from a leather unlike any he had seen before, symbols and runes were etched on one side of the quiver. Neither of his parents were able to tell him what they meant, but they seemed important. Along the other side was a scene of a land of wondrous beauty and unlike anything he had ever seen. "I think it's the land where you were born, Trekkan" his mother said. "I don't have any proof mind you, but it looks like a magical place and you have been the magic in our lives."


His father told him that they found it in the hollowed tree when they returned to leave the sign pointing to their village. His parents swore it was not there before, but they felt it was meant for Trekkan when he was old enough. The quiver was empty and looked as though it had just been crafted by a master leatherworker, not something found in the woods 16 years ago. While the quiver seemed to be magical, never having seen anything magical or Elven before, everyone assumed it was simply a very finely crafted Elven quiver.


From that point on, Trekkan always carried both the bow and the quiver with him anytime he left the village. Practice might not make perfect, but he found that it did make him a really good archer. At times, he felt he could spent all his days out in the forest, its creatures and quiet. To be able to survive on his own in what others would call 'inhospitable' at best conditions was his goal. The forest was alive and he wanted to be part of it. Whether that was from his Elven heritage or not, he couldn't say. But it was there and he had no reason or will to fight it.


Just before Trekkan's 20'th birthday, he was returning home from a two week trek into the forest, exploring and learning the ways of his homeland. He was still about a mile from his village when he heard a loud roar come from the direction of his village. Screams followed, a lot of screams, screams of terror and pain. What could have bellowed so loud as to be heard so clearly from this distance? What was so menacing here in his tranquil forest that he was unaware of?


Running as fast as he could, it still took him several minutes to return to the village. His home, once so full of beauty and life, was now mostly destroyed with only a few walls left standing, fires were already starting to burn what was left. A hideous troll stood in the middle of the wreckage of the only home he'd known, covered in arrows and wounds, wounds that were already healing as he watched. In the troll's right hand was his father, broken, bloody and barely clinging to life. His mother lay at the troll's feet, lifeless.


Rage burned inside Trekkan, this parents were dead, or soon to be if not already. His home was destroyed. A cry from his own lips, in a language he did not know escaped. The troll sensed this and turned in his direction. Tossing Tek-ar aside like a toy into one of the remaining walls of his home, the troll charged at Trekkan. Not knowing what to do, Trekkan ran around the back side of the house, now fully in flames. The troll would not follow. Not understanding his luck, Trekkan darted into the remains of the house and saw that his mother was truly dead. His father had managed to drag himself to her body and lay there looking up at him from the ground, tears in his eyes.


"Fire! Use the fire Trekkan!" his father said. Looking around the now destroyed house, Trekkan saw the cask use to keep the oil for their craft was broken open and spilled to the ground. Next to that, however, were two flasks of oil that were unharmed. Grabbing the flasks, Trekkan unstopped them and jumped through what was once a wall to his beloved home, out into the path of the troll. He threw the flasks at the troll, splitting them and covering the troll in oil.


The troll almost laughed at this, looking at itself, wet from the oil and suffering no ill effects, for trolls are not normally known for their intelligence. Taking his bow, Trekkan wrapped a piece of what was once his mother's favorite blanket around the shaft of the arrow. Lighting the arrow from the flames of their burning home, he let loose the arrow. Aiming for the troll’s large pulpy eye, he hit it dead center, as he knew he would. The troll burst into flame, screaming in pain and confusion, the troll fell to the ground covered in his most hated of things, fire.


The remaining villagers jumped to their chance to help defeat this enemy. Pitchforks, a few rusty swords and anything they could find, found their way into the troll flesh. The flames still burning, the troll was unable to heal itself fast enough and he was soon dead.


Trekkan turned to his parents, his father attempting to sit up, spitting blood. Trekkan ran to his father and held him. "Today is my final day son," he said to Trekkan. "I never wanted to live without your mother, and now… I won't have to. I'm sorry I couldn't be with you longer, just know that we loved you and always will." And with that, his father closed his eyes and died in Trekkan's arms.


The villagers completely burned what was left of the troll that day, never did they want his remains to reanimate and wreak the havoc they did again. All in the village cheered Trekkan, for without his deeds, the troll would have finished them all. They named him Trollkiller, and on that day, Trekkan Trollkiller was born. His pain driving him to hunt and slay any troll he could find, trekking across the land, killing trolls, as fate had already planned for him.
 

Trekkan

JFF Administrator
Staff member
Hahah nice, however I'm 100% against LARPing. Because, THEN I would feel like an idiot, now I don't. ;)
 

pants

New Member
JFF Member
What's the guy on the far right doing? I get the rangers in the back, and maybe a magic user girl second from the right in the back, but the far right guy looks like he's half eaten up by a cloak (looks photo shopped), I can't tell what he's doing with his arm though, is it a side arm pitch?
 

Trekkan

JFF Administrator
Staff member
What's the guy on the far right doing? I get the rangers in the back, and maybe a magic user girl second from the right in the back, but the far right guy looks like he's half eaten up by a cloak (looks photo shopped), I can't tell what he's doing with his arm though, is it a side arm pitch?
You paid entirely too much attention to that image...
 

pants

New Member
JFF Member
What can I say.. slow work week during Thanksgiving. Trekkan please leave your elf ears at home, no Larping on Sunday. I know you've been excited about it.
 

Zynn

Member
JFF Member
Fun read on your character!
You and I have very similar ideas of our "main character". I always go for the elven ranger or rogue-like character, in games. As a secondary character, I choose a main healer.
 
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Trekkan

JFF Administrator
Staff member
Fun read on your character!
You and I have very similar ideas of our "main character". I always go for the elven ranger or rogue-like character, in games. As a secondary character, I choose a main healer.
Thanks! My secondary class is always a Cleric as well. hehe
 
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