Background: Ballik Stonefist

Squirrels are arseholes.

If ye take anything away from my tale, it's that Balinor put certain animals on this earth for the sole purpose of killin'. You asked me what led me to my path and I'll tell ya. War. The Last War. Heh, like there could actually be such a thing. Wars don't end, they just stop long enough for everyone involved to lick their wounds before they go killin' again. It was war that brought me to the Eldeen Reaches and to the druids of the Ashbound.

Aye, I told ye I don't belong to any sect. That's true enough. Now stop interruptin' ! How many dwarves you know like to go traipsing about the woods? I moved to the Reaches after the war. Didn't have anywhere else to go, ya see. I grew up as Ballik Stonefist of the Cyran Stonefists. We were second only to House Vadalis in cattle production. For three generations my family has been raising cattle. When King Galifar ruled over all the lands of Khorvaire, me grandpappy was one of the dwarves who fed em'.

When the damn war broke out, no one knew what to think. It was a human ruler, so my family figured it'd be over in a flash. Didn't think it would last as long as it did. We hired out mercenaries of House Deneith to protect our cattle and our ranch. Took our cue from the Houses, we did. Avoided choosing sides and served customers no matter who they fought for.

About 50 years ago, our ranch was attacked by some hungry Brelish soldiers. Weren't but 3 of them trying to steal one of our heifers. Our guards caught em' sure enough and captured the hungry lads. My father could have had them killed. He could have turned them over to the Cyran army as prisoners. Instead, he gave them one of our fattest cows and sent them on their way. My father could never stand to let another person suffer, war or no.

It was that act of kindness that killed my father. Some Brelish commander got it in his head that we were an easy target and that our cattle could feed a lot of his troops. I still remember the rumbling of the ground as the troops marched to the ranch. For all I knew, we were gettin' struck by an earthquake! My father hid my mother and me in the attic while he tried reasoning with the Brelish.

Young and stupid as I was, I peeked downstairs to see what was going on. Deneith guards were quickly dispatched by the Breland forces. Twas the first time I'd ever seen a wizard, let alone a powerful one. Then I saw em'. He wore the ranking of a Major with the blue and gold Brelish uniform. His skin was grey from head to toe, hair as white as a ghost. He had a small slit for a mouth and used it to bark orders to his men. It wouldn't be years later til I knew what a changeling was.

Said his name was Jin. Major Jin. Aye, I'll remember that name until the day Balinor calls me home. My father offered him all our cattle. He offered him lodging for his troops. Major Jin listened to my father. The bastard listened to my father beg for the life of his wife and child. He waited until my father was in tears and on his knees before he spoke.

"My good sir. If I were to let you and your family live, you would undoubtedly let the Cyran military know. They would intercept us and more than likely wipe us out to the last man while we attempt to transport the cattle. I'm afraid your death is a - regrettable necessity."

He drew his sword and that was that. Ran my father through with that uncaring alien look about his face. My mother had enough sense to close the attic door and use a scroll of Mage Lock my father had hidden up there. When the guards couldn't open it, Major Jin ordered them to burn the ranch. I looked outside the window to see our cattle being rustled up and marched south to the Breland border.

Mother and I escaped through the window before the flames could reach us. We headed north to my cousins through the night. Every time I looked back, I could only see the burning hulk that used to be our home. The place where my father died trying to appease the major.

When I was of fightin' age, I had decided to join the Cyran army. I couldn't sling a spell, but I could bury my axe into the other guy's spellslingers. Besides, I was hungry for Brelish blood. Ironic how that is. I didn't get sent to the Brelish border. By that time, we were in a temporary "truce" with Breland. Instead, I got sent to fight the Karrnathis. Ugh. Wanna have nightmares for the rest of yer life? Spend five years fightin' the living dead.

Ever say final rites for a fallen comrade just to have to fight them the next day? That was the least of my worries. We were pushing the damn undead back to their borders and pushing hard. Hells, some of us thought we were gonna push em' all the way back to the capitol! But that last day of fightin' had us all scared.

The Day of Mourning. Some of the men say they saw a gigantic light come down from the sky. Others said the light swelled up from the ground. Me? All I remember was the sound. I heard the cracklin' of fire, just like the night our home burned to the ground. The overpowering smell of ash filled my nostrils. It was all gone. Everything. The buildings. The animals. The people. Generations were wiped out in one day. My family.

I don't wanna talk about that no more. I left my homeland because I didn't have one anymore. Our captain gave us our last wages and set us on our way. Can't really fight for Cyre when Cyre doesn't exist anymore. I didn't want to stay in Karnath, not with all the undead abominations still walking about. Breland could kiss my hairy dwarven arse! Thrane was nice but a little too stiff for my tastes. Besides, I couldn't give two squats about a talking fire.

I eventually settled in the Eldeen Reaches. I didn't want to deal with governments, armies, or even people. I found a good plot of land, built me a nice shack, and decided to live out in the open wild. I made a few silver trading furs with local settlements. Nothing like I was used to back in Cyre but it was enough for me. Made friends with a local by the name of Greenpaw.

He was one of them shifters and a funny one too. He'd tell me of his huntin' stories and I'd tell him of the battles I fought in the war. It wasn't until a year after I met him that I found out he was a druid. Oh, I had heard of them before. You can't live in the Reaches without knowing about em'. He'd tell me about their beliefs and some of what he was saying made sense to me.

He believed unchecked growth of magic could lead to Khorvaire's destruction. He thought the rise of nations would only lead to further war. And damned if I didn't believe him. He told me of his sect, the Ashbound, and how they wanted to prevent another Day of Mourning. I believed every damn lie that fool of a shifter told me. So that's how it was that yours truly joined the Ashbound and became a druid.

Oh, things were good at first. I learned to appreciate the natural world. It's not that magecrafted goods were bad, it's just that you don't need them to be happy. Everyone in the city loves what a magewright can make for them. Everburning torches, rings of feather fall, alchemy potions. They got their uses, sure, but do you really need them? Give me a blue sky and an open world. That's really all anyone needs.

I learned to listen to the world around me. It speaks to ye. You may not hear it, but it talks all the time. The trees, the birds, the wind, the damned annoying squirrels. They all have voices if ye just take the time to listen. The druids don't get their powers from the gods. Honor them they do, but our abilities are given to us by Eberron and everything upon her. They taught me how to open my eyes to the world around me.

But tis' true. I'm no Ashbound anymore. Not since the day I told the elder where he could stick his shillelagh. I'll not speak of it here. Suffice to say, my eyes were opened to a larger and more open world than the one the Ashbound spoke of. Course now I'm considered an Apostate of the faith. Kill on sight. *sigh* That's me. I suppose that's why I'm not in Eldeen right now. Maybe this dwarf was meant to keep on moving.

Shrub? He eats more than I do and bites almost as hard! I found the pup staring down a bear. Found out later that he was kicked out of his pack for fightin' with the Alpha too much. I took down the bear and me and him have been friends ever since. I can't tell ya how many times he's saved my hide...

"Hic!"

That rockgut is goin' straight to me bowels. Tell ya what lad. Take this acorn and find a good place in town to plant it. Come back to this tree the same time tomorrow and I'll tell ya a little bit more about what it's like being a druid. I might even tell ya about the time I met a real life dragon!