A Dragonborn Druid from the forest of Giant Vords in northern Elaria, its orignal name lost as the cultist and nature god, Vorda fanatics that moved in after the elven ruling class fell. Living on the outer edges of the forsest with his wife and child, Osryn lived a peaceful life. While he did live in the forstest, surrounded by cultist and monsters, none dared challenge him after witnessing his first day in the forest when a pack of wild goblins attemped to attack the convoy he and hisfamily rode through the forst in. The fight was savage and fast, Osryn revealing his combat prowess as he took the form of many beast to tear the lowly goblins to shreds in so complete a manner even much more powerful foe who witnessed or heard of the events knew they would be no match.
After his victory over the pack he declared the immediate area to be his domain and all wildlife in was considered under his protection. Some monsters tested these boundarys in the early days but none lived long after the offence. Soon the area became known as the druids grove, a safe zone for all who could maintain the peace. AFter 5 years this grove had spread and grown into a large sector of the forest and many druids came to call it home. As his influence grew, cultist began to take notice of the grove and believed death to be part of nature and viewed the grove as a an afront to Vorda and the forest.
It was deep into the night in the middle of the fall harvest of a fruit that allowed druids to shapeshift, even when all their magic has been drained, the Bujo Berry, when suddenly the peace and quite was cut through with a shreik of pure agony rang out, quickly followed by the sounds of weapons clashing mixed with the grunts and screams from men and beast alike.
Osryn shot awake and rushed out of his hut at the center of the grove, greeted with fire and death all around him. An army of the undead and cultist had marched into the grove, putting all in their path to the sword. Osryn rushed to the front lines, mowing dozens down in a matter of minures as he cycled through half a dozen forms to dispatch his foes.
He fought on in a blind rage until only he remained, surrounded by the undead and cultist. Slowly the undead halted their advance and formed a circle around the druid who was swinging wildly with his quarterstaff, at this point having depleted all his transformations. As he looked around with wide and shocked eyes, the circle begins to part as a regal looking dark elf fills the gap.
She continued her march towards the man who swung at the empty air between them to ward her off. The dark elf lazily knocked the staff aside as it entered her range and knocked Osryn to the group, planting her own staff on his chest. The man stared blankly at her with pure hate as she revealed her purpose in the grove.
Calling herself Vordaiya, she stood over the druid with a look of disgust on her face as she surveyed the grove and the man below her. With a wordless shriek, she brought the staff high above her head before bringing it down in a savage blow to the mans center mass. A powerful blast of magic emanated from the impact, raising dust and ash in a large cloud of death before leaving just as abruptly as she had come.
As the smoke and ash began to settle and the sun began to rose, no life remained in the grove. Where Osryn Marowar had been, the man who had brought saftey back to a lawless land for countless adventures, was nothing butt a skeleton with the flesh completely rend from the bones. Had an adventurer or monster wandered past the battlefield that day, they would have seen that very skeleton begin to move. At first nothing more than a twitch, but as night drew closer it sat up in a start, yelling with vocal chords no longer present and looking around wildly with no eyes.
This was indeed still Osryn Marowar, seemingly cursed to live in this undead state by the witch who had sacked his home. He looked for survivors and found only death and dispair, including the burnt husk of his wife and child, holding each other in deaths embrace. Osryn wept and swore he would find avenge them. Though he had lost many of his powerful abilities that had allowed him to be the protector of the grove, he soon found he retained the ability to wild shape, now into terrifying bone beast forms, though many transformations he once considered second nature remained lost to him, for now.
He searched for 6 months in the forest, rumors of the ghost of Osryn haunting the forest spreading through every corner of the forest. He was only ever able to capture one cultist for questioning, many would take their own lives at the very sight of him. After hours of torture, each one killing the kind heart that no longer beat within his chest, he was given one answer: The witch is in Elarian Spire.
He made his way to the shining city with haste and began his hunt. After a year of fruitless searching he came to accept he could not do this search on his own. Soon he wound up on the door step of Dagger & Gavel, two hard boiled former investigators for the city turned private eyes, at several times in the intervening years with their investigations aimed at the city and its officials.
The tow were unable to dig up any information on Vordaiya but promissed the skeleton they would continue their search in exchange for his service in their other cases. Having hit a wall the man agreed and has been working for the pair for the better part of a year, with little in the way of progress in finding his families killer.