Mootroy – Level 10 Loxodon Noble Peace Cleric
Mootroy was born in the home of a healer and raised in a wealthy family by her parents, Tradoom and Dusnu. Her older brother, Vradremos, dominated proceedings in the house and was doted on by the family. Mootroy was left to her own devices.
As a result, Mootroy tended to play with plants and animals more than other loxodons, incurring the wrath of her classmates. Her teachers worked out quickly that she was destined to find her future in the healing arts.
Word was sent to various shaman orders across the land, and the Order of Tngri came to her school first. It was the legendary druid, Aljai Timor, who could see that there was potential of some sort in this enormous elephant.
Aljai wanted to bring Mootroy back to the base of Khentiu Mountains, where the Order of Tngri is based. Tradoom and Dusnu were happy to allow their daughter to go, as they had no idea what they could do with her otherwise. Vradremos was due to represent the family as a mighty warrior, and Mootroy’s personality was most likely to put off any potential suitors.
Aljai’s influence on Mootroy was undoubted. Her commitment to the use of herbs and other natural ingredients made her a natural shaman. She was welcomed into the Order, and began to study intensely.
Her work within the Order was acknowledged across all sections – many would seek her out for help, while also providing her with assistance at any time. Mootroy was extremely well-regarded by the entire community, and in some regards, was thought of as a good-luck charm for the organization.
Mootroy spent considerable time praying to Ülgen, the god of goodness and the brother of Erlik (the god of death). During one of her nightly trances at their temple, she felt like she was communing with both Ülgen and Erlik. They came to her as a hydra with two heads.
Ülgen said, “You must triumph over evil. Hack off my brother’s head.” Erlik retorted, “The world is evil and it must remain that way. Cut my brother’s head off!”
Watching both of them fight, Mootroy waited for a pause. She said quietly, “Kök Tengri teaches us that the 99 tngri are balanced between good and evil. That balance is fundamental to the existence of life. For me to choose one side over the other would be to deny the existence of life itself.”
Both heads smiled, and the hydra changed forms, turning into an enormous centaur. Kök Tngri smiled down her. “You have learned well, my child. Continue to represent the Order as you have shown here. Fight for the balance, whilst representing the good in the world.”
After many years of study, word came back to the post station at the Order of Tngri, from her homelands. The letter was stamped with a brillant red wax seal, one that was rarely used in her household or in her community, and it was one that brought shivers down her spine.
Mootroy sat down in the temple to pray for hope. She removed the wax seal, and opened the letter. Tears rolled down her face, where she discovered that her whole family had been consumed by a tribe of bloodthirsty goblins leading a wurm through their house. Nothing was left – just some bones.
Others in the town went to hunt the goblins and wurm down, but never succeeded. The goblins and wurm escaped, leaving the tunnel behind that linked with many others under the ground.
Not long after that, her boyfriend, the 132 year old male wood elf cleric, Enereg Orren was killed while experimenting with new healing potions. The explosion killed him instantly, while polymorphing Mootroy into a toad. It took top clerics, druids and spell casters from across the Order a week to work out what Enereg had done in his potion, and cast the right combination of spells to bring Mootroy back to her usual spell. To this day, her hiccups sound like a croak.
As she progressed with her studies, Mootroy was pushed into the more physical elements of her studies. While she was not particularly comfortable wielding a weapon, she showed considerable aptitude for the arcane.
In her first battle, she faced down Alyn Vuhrellath, a 40 year old female triton bandit. Alyn threw her trident straight through Mootroy’s left ear and pulled it straight back, ripping it in half. Mootroy roared in pain before firing three consecutive spells that blew Alyn apart.
Mootroy was offered the opportunity to heal the scar, but refused. She wants the reminder that all her work leaves a mark, both good and bad.
Under Aljai’s instructions, Mootroy was put to work as an apprentice cleric. The Order of Tngri would spend time across the lands, providing healing services while trying to convert people to the broader tenets of Tngrism.
One such adventurer that Mootroy healed was Fundor, a 38 year old dragonborn paladin. He had clearly escaped a vicious battle, with deep wounds seeping blood from between his brass scales, and the exquisite tattoo of a fly on her right shoulder had been cleft in two.
Mootroy quickly went to work, applying salves and other herbal cures. After mere hours, Fundor was sitting upright – not healed but feeling significantly better than he was before. He spoke about the battle he had faced against a fearsome group of humans who were heavily armored.
Fundor admitted that he was a follower of Asgorath, the Ninefold Dragon, head deity of all dragonkind. While he was not interested in joining the Order of Tngri, he would never forget the kindness that Mootroy had shown him. He sketched his fly tattoo in the sand, before gently picking it up in his clawed hand and burning it with his flame breath. Enclosed in glass was a sand replica of his tattoo.
“If you ever need the help of the brass dragons, show this. They will know.”
He stood up, bowed in thanks, winced as his greatsword pressed against his shoulder, and walked into the distance.
During her work as an apprentice cleric, Mootroy was tasked with healing Luri Hardhelm, a 122 year old female hill dwarf who was adventuring in the area.
As a dutiful cleric, Mootroy was conducting her healing work, and could sense that there was something deeper concerning the red-headed, green-eyed woman. Despite the smell of alcohol filling her sensitive nostrils, Mootroy inquired about other concerns.
Luri appeared willing to open up, but suddenly snapped. Picking up her axe and warhammer, she swore, “You don’t understand what I have gone through! You don’t know the pain! You will suffer and I will make you pay!” Luri stormed out of the room, leaving Mootroy stunned at this outburst and her heart broken. She did not seek to create this enemy, yet her desire to help had created an enemy.