The land of Tirn
Curious and friendly, unless she gets angry.
From a distance, Auraya looks much like any other elf. Tall and slender, beautiful and moves with a gentle grace. And she tries to enhance this as much as possible with her clothing. However she has multiple traits that sperates her from other elves. Her finger sharpens into claws, she has enlongated and sharp canines, horns that sprout from the sides of her head and arms and neck mostly covered in iridecent red scales. The horns are most often hidden by her cloak, and her scales mostly by her robe, but the teeth and claws are harder to hide. Though not even an adult by elven standards, she looks older than her years.
To the west, in the great forests, the Elven Kingdom of Emeria lies. Deep within its forests lie grand cities, unlike any found in the human kingdom to the east. Not imperious monuments that stand out against the horizon, but gracefully winding around trees and rivers, enhancing nature’s own beauty, full of life and magic. One of these cities was Andrellia, the center of artists and crafters in Emeria. Few could rival the beauty and quality of the items crafted in its forges and from the hands of its crafters. Then, one day nearly eighty years ago, the trade caravans stopped coming. Nothing was heard, neither by mundane means, nor magical. Scouts were sent, scrying spells were cast, and found that the only remains of the city was ash. Trees burnt down, houses turned to ash, even the mighty forges reduced to rubble. The cause was to remain a mystery until a fortnight later, Lady Marinelle Vord – the Grand Magistrix of Andrellia – appeared at the Kings court in Lorin. Her skin marred by burns and wounds, she recounted what had befallen the city. Three ancient dragons, one larger than the last had come, and in a night filled with fire, blizzards and acid clouds, the mighty city had been brought low.
Marinelle never fully recovered from her wounds, despite all the magic at the courts disposal, and not long after, she succumbed to her wounds. She died however, not before she gave birth to a child. An abomination in the eyes of many, because the child had sharp and elongated canines, fingers that narrowed into claws, small nubs at the top of her head and a single red dragon scale on her forearm. Despite being in the minority, a few important voices decreed that the child would be allowed to stay at the court, in respect to its late mother.
Named after her mother’s mother, Auraya Vord grew up with the courts protection, something that definitively spared her from an early death, and save the expected mockery and bullying from children her own age, she found herself tolerated, albeit mostly ignored and looked down upon. As her body matured, so did the scaly patch on her forearm grow larger. At first, she found it difficult to accept her fate, and she took a pair of pliers to the scales, wishing nothing more than removing the curse that she had inherited. The pain was nearly unbearable, and only with the help of a cleric that took pity on her did she live through the experience, and the scales grew back, more numerous than ever. Her heritage manifested in other ways as well. Animals avoided her at all costs. Anger, pride, envy and a lust for gold dominated her thoughts in her youth, and it came to a point when she almost killed another elf her age in rage. Insisting that she was only defending herself from a bully helped little as she was thrown in a cell and told she was lucky she wasn’t put down. The first few days was spent consumed by anger, but she soon learned that it was to no use. Eventually the boredom set in, and she asked for something to do in her cell. The warden gave her a needle, thread and some ragged uniforms and told her to fix them. First she found herself frustrated by the small needle that always slipped between her clawed fingers, but as she learned how to do it, she found a peaceful calm set over her. She discovered that crafting kept her anger in check. And so, when she was released from her cell, she dedicated herself to honouring her mother’s memory by mastering the art of crafting things both magical and mundane. In the process she found her aptitude in magic, which she developed and researched on her own, lacking a mentor to teach her.
In her Seventy fifth year, while researching powerful magical items, she came across an heirloom of her family. “The Robes of Bahamut” It had been in her mothers possession, but she had not worn them when she returned to the court. The Stories of the robes were many: That it had been worn by Bahamut himself as he walked the earth in a humanoid shape. That it had been the robes of the head cleric of Bahamut, worn as she struck down the Avatar of Tiamat at the battle of Endramar. But the thing that caught Aurayas attention was that in one of the stories, it held the property to let a chromatic dragon control its emotions and leave the shackles of its anger and greed behind. Bringing only a few of the items she had crafted over the years, she set out on the journey to where the robes had been seen last. Tirn.