The Heroes of Westfall
Half-Elf Bard/ Summer Rhymer/ Sovreign Leader
Cherith is a clean cut, handsome Half-elf with shoulder length hair pulled back into a neat pony-tail. While adventuring he wears a shiny suit of Chainmail and carries a wand and a longsword. He exudes confidence and people tend to be drawn to his engaging smile.
Cherith is the son of one of the newest families on the Westfall City Council. His broad education was of extreme importance to his family. He has studied history, art, music and diplomacy. He has completed his education at the Westfall University. He has spent time learning from solders, mages and entertainers.
Cherith loves being well known and the center of attention and his time in the Guardian Brotherhood has certainly help with that. He loves retelling the tails of their adventures. Due to his efforts all of the City of Westfall knows their faces and has heard of their achievements.
He is one of the two leaders of the Guardian Brotherhood. The safety and survival of the party is his primary concern. He is tough and versatile but rarely are his actions in combat flashy.
In the times when the Guardian Brotherhood are not traveling and adventuring, Cherith works as an advisor to members of the City Council. He hopes to someday be a ruler over this great city.
It had been a few years since Cherith Wytherthorn had made his way down to the Lower Block of Westfall. It seemed like he spent every other weekend at the Triple S back in his adventuring days, but since his father’s death, and his promotion to the Council, he had little time for leisure, and if he had the time, the docks would hardly be the place he’d choose to spend it.
This day, however, he found himself back in his old stomping grounds on business.
It was nostalgic, to say the least. The briney sea air wafting through the hole in the wooden floor. The tale-tell signs of one of Sid’s epic benders – broken chairs, smashed beer mugs, the pole of his banner snapped in half on the floor. He had hoped he’d run into the Goliath while he was down here, but he’d heard rumors that he had teamed up with some sort of devil or demon or something. Cherith sighed, imagining Sid in over his head again, and wondering how he’d get out of it this time. He had no doubt his ex-compatriot would.
The half-elf walked over to the bar and extended a hand to the bartender.
“Hairy Shirley, good to see you again.”
“Ah, Cherith, if I can still call you that?” the man grinned slyly.
“Of course. What seems to be the problem?”
“Pirates. They came in yesterday, and they’ve been causing quite the disturbance since. There’s one of them now.” Hairy Shirley pointed to the entrance where an enormous half-orc was traipsing in, a jagged cutlass at his side, with a sinister look.
“They call him Benjamin, Cherith. I’d tell you to watch yourself, but-” he smiled again “I think you can handle this.”
Cherith chuckled and made his way across the bar to the pirate.
“You must be Benjamin?”
“Aye. And ‘oo migh’ you be?” His voice was all dogteeth and gums.
“My name is Cherith Wytherthorn. I’m from the city council, and it’s time for you and your friends to head on out of here.”
The pirate laughed loudly. A single, booming eruption of laughter.
“Hah! I’ll show you what we think of your Council!” He reached down to pull out his cutlass.
Before his hand even got there, however, Cherith spoke a single word.
The half-orc’s eyes got wide with surprise as his feet began shuffling and spinning around the bar. The pirate had completely lost control of his body as Cherith manipulated him around like a marionette. The patrons of the bar were overjoyed as the hulking pirate was sent through the hole in the floor and into the wash ten feet below. Cherith peeked over the edge at Benjamin.
“You’re lucky I’m not Sid.”