Character Introduction – Brazen Wolfe Tabletop

This week I have had a total of Two D&D sessions in which Nyxara Cinderthorn is my PC for the campaign and Tonight I wanted to touch on how this adventure started with The Party of Six – Core Threat campaign.

The Party of Six – Core Threat

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Nyxara, an elven sorceress guided by the cryptic whispers of the gods, ventured deep into an ancient dungeon, certain that her magic would protect her. Yet, fate had a different lesson to teach. The Weave abandoned her when she needed it most, exhaustion gripped her limbs, and a goblin’s wild strike shattered her staff, leaving her defenceless.

But the dungeon wasn’t the only force at work that day. Just as the goblins closed in for the kill, Sykel, a Goliath fighter of unparalleled strength, stormed into the chamber. His blade cut through the chaos, his sheer presence sending goblins scrambling in terror. With his intervention, Nyxara seized the moment to retreat, humbled but alive, determined to reclaim her lost power.

As they left the dungeon, they discovered an intriguing parallel – Sykel sought to uncover the origins of dungeon creation, believing they held ancient secrets, while Nyxara was convinced that the gods themselves had ties to their depths.

However, destiny wasn’t done meddling. A wrong turn led them into a dense forest where the trees shifted as if alive, twisting the pathways into a deceptive maze. Even Nyxara’s elven instincts were no match for the unnatural terrain.

Enter Marelynn, a Tiefling Ranger, who had spent days tracking the forest’s bizarre transformations, suspecting a link to the forgotten cataclysm that had shattered the world long ago. When she stumbled upon the lost duo, she not only guided them out but also found herself drawn to their quest – if the dungeons held echoes of a lost era, perhaps they held answers to nature’s unrest as well.

Their journey soon brought them to battle. A blue Dragonborn monk, Auren, was engaged in a fierce fight against a gang of bandits, desperately defending a collection of ancient tomes. Though skilled, she was outnumbered. Sykel crashed into the fight like a force of nature, scattering bandits, while Marelynn picked off retreating foes with her bow. Nyxara’s sorcery struck down a fleeing thief, and Auren, now backed by capable allies, unleashed a flurry of blows that left the remaining bandits sprawled unconscious.

Then, from seemingly nowhere, a voice floated into the aftermath – chill, melodic, and strangely profound. A man in flowing white robes approached, surveying the fallen bandits with a serene expression.
“Whoa, dudes… rough vibes here.”

Chad, the human cleric, knelt beside the groaning bandits, murmuring about the cosmic balance and the universe’s need for kindness. He believed life was sacred – be it a warrior, a thief, or some dude who just made bad choices. With a lazy flick of his fingers, divine energy mended Nyxara’s broken staff.

When asked why he had wandered into the woods, he grinned, brushing dust from his robes. “Oh man, I was on, like, this totally righteous quest, y’know? Looking for the herbs that’ll bring me closer to my deity – like, divine enlightenment through nature and stuff.”

Marelynn and Nyxara exchanged amused glances but helped him gather his mystical herbs anyway. Despite his dreamy ramblings, Chad had a wisdom about him, an intuition that made people trust him – even if he smelled vaguely of incense and mystery.

With their newfound camaraderie, the five made their way back to town, sharing stories over a meal, the bonds between them solidifying.

Yet, their tale wasn’t quite finished. As they neared the city, an unseen presence lingered at their backs—a hooded wood elf, clad in a bird mask, trailing them with quiet intent. When they stopped, preparing for a confrontation, she merely tilted her head and spoke.

Missulena, Lena for short – had been watching them, searching for something unspoken. Though she realized they weren’t exactly what she had been looking for, she saw something in them—potential, purpose, power.
“You people might just be onto something,” she mused, adjusting her mask. “And I’d rather be on the side of those shaping the world than watching from the shadows.”

And so, the Companionship of Six was formed – an unlikely collection of warriors, seekers, mystics, and wanderers, bound together by fate, curiosity, and just a little bit of cosmic luck.

Thanks for joining me today for a different change in pace. With the DMs and Parties Blessing I will add more to this in the future but a bit more of a creative spin on the content tonight with this one. Tomorrow it’s back to the normal schedule with the end of week Zine coming here. So don’t forget to come back for that and, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe

Today I have something a bit different as I introduce Nyxara Cinderthorn – an elven sorceress for a DND campaign that I am lucky enough to be a player at (for the first time in nearly 10 years…). Today is a bit special to me as it marks the One thousandth, two hundred and Thirty Fourth night writing in a row! (1234) and being a sucker for numbers I wanted to change it up a bit.

Nyxara Cinderthorn

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Nyxara is a PC that I have that is part of a post apocalyptic world set hundreds if not thousands of years after a modern world, like ours, came to ruin. Many old monuments to the old world still reside but nature has taken back most of it. She is part of a group of adventurers who investigate these Monuments called ‘Dungeons’ and looks for answers, treasure and fame.

Nyxara is an wild-elven sorcerer who believes that the strange whispers she hears is the gods of nature calling for help. She has left her tribe and her village looking for the source of these voices to try and work out what her connection to them is but also how she can help save the gods – if they exist or not.

Nyxara Cindethorn – Created in Copilot and GIMP

Back Story

Nyxara was born beneath a night sky streaked with emerald auroras – an omen witnessed by the tribe’s elders on the night of her arrival. The celestial display was rare, seen only once in several generations, and the elders believed it to be a portent of something beyond their current understanding. They named her Nyxara, meaning “Starborn” in their wild tongue, believing her path was touched by forces greater than their understanding. As she grew, Nyxara proved to be unlike the others in her tribe. While her kin revered nature with discipline and devotion, she communed with it instinctively, as though she could feel the heartbeat of the wild in ways others could not. She spoke to the winds, played with creations that she formed from mud and twisted flame to entertain the children and adults alike. However they also feared her budding magical prowess as she was caught playing among the creatures born of twisted mutation, and often stared into the distance not seeing the living as she listened to the silent whispers carried by the leaves, dust, mist and embers.

Her magic was raw and chaotic, unpredictable – yet it never turned against her. When she reached adulthood – quite some time for an elf – her naming rite was held within the forest of her home village. She was sent out into the woods where her feet and the whispers of what she believed to be the gods led her deep within the ruins that lay at the heart of the forest. Large square – nearly perfectly formed stone structures housed large rusted relics from a forgotten age and where she once would have stood at the heart of a city she now saw nature taking back what once was its.

A place once controlled by man to store their vehicles and complete their shopping was a city brought down by time and swallowed by nature. Wandering alone into the ruins – sent by incoherent whispers, she found herself standing at the base of corrupted vegetation as its twisted poisoned roots sought to consume her. She should have died, but something awakened within her. The world pulsed around her, and in desperation, she channelled her magic into the earth through the vines. The vines twisted and burned, transforming into Cinderthorns, fiery tendrils alive with elemental power. They did not wither. Instead, they pulsed like veins of molten fire, revealing markings that no one could read – symbols of a lost time. When the elders found her – brought from the pulse of magic and the column of smoke, they declared this the work of the gods, marking her as Cinderthorn, as its new form and life was fuelled by her magic. The Elders, with Nyxara’s help, took a cutting of the vines and brought it back to the village in an ancient vessel that seemed to contain the heat and voracious appetite of the roots.

Yet, as the years passed, Nyxara began to hear and understand the intent of the voices – whispers carried by the Cinderthorns on floating motes of fire called her to something greater. One night, as she meditated with the elders, the Cinderthorn plant within the village ignited with ethereal energy, forming ancient patterns that no one could decipher. The embers spoke to her and as she reached out and touched them, the world shifted, and she saw a vision. A great ruin, the sundering of the world in a violent outburst. The rebirth of plants and animals as life exploded as it fought to take back what was once lost and a presence, calling to be found within the ruins of old. When she came through she knew then that her place was no longer within the tribe. She had been called to something beyond their teachings of history, nature and the gods, beyond their traditions and rituals.

The gods of nature called her to seek them, and she would answer the call. Against the warnings of her elders, she left the safety of her homeland and entered the world beyond, venturing into the ruins of the old world in search of what remains of the forgotten gods. She believes the answers to restoring nature lie within the ancient depths of lost dungeons – buried structures and temples, crumbling towers, and vaults locked by time and consumed by the earth itself. With her staff, her wild, untamed magic, and the will of the unknown gods, she walked the lush vibrant lands, the crumbling ruins and the cursed sands, speaking to the earth, unravelling its secrets, and battling those who would seek to twist its course for their own gain.

Some call her mad.
Some call her chosen.
But she calls herself the voice of nature’s will.

The Quest

Nyxara’s call from what she believes the gods echoes into her dreams. A reoccurring dream that she has stayed with her for years. Of the forests, of fire and of dragons. These dreams started to take on a different meaning when the elders told her of the story of Scorching Wrath.

Long ago, the land was poisoned beyond recognition by reckless civilisations, and nature called upon its greatest re-balancer, dragons. Entire cities were destroyed and its people fled into the forests and the wilds. The wrath of the dragons did not stop there and soon many of the great forests were razed, rivers dried to dust, and the world was cleansed in flame. Though nature eventually restored itself, the scars of dragonfire remained, serving as a constant reminder that should the balance ever falter again, the dragons will return.

The elders then stressed that If one were ever spotted in the ruins, it would mean the world stands at the edge of annihilation. It was her tribes sacred duty to do what they can to ensure that the world does not tempt the dragons re-awakening and so that nature and life itself can remain in balance.

Not wanting to tempt the return of the dragons she set forth to find the gods, learn from them and do what she believes she was fated to do – save the natural world from another cataclysm.

Thanks for joining me today for a different change in pace. I hope to expand the story of Nyx as the adventure continues. Tomorrow it’s back to the normal schedule with the end of week Zine coming here. So don’t forget to come back for that and, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe