Fenrath Jurath

Wizard / Shepard


STR: 10 CON: 14 DEX: 14 INT: 18 WIS: 8 CHA: 13

Height: 5’8"   Weight: 125  Build: Girlish

Fenrath is medium height, on the sleight side, only 5’8" and 125 Lbs. The fact of his slim appearance is hardly noticed, as usually he wears a long flowy white beard and wig, while it hides part of his face, makes him very noticeable. Fenrath has wanted to be a wise old wizard for many years now. He is only 19, but the wig and beard make him look much older (from a distance).

He has a slightly annoying habit of loudly exhaling through the mustache when he wants people to think he is deep in thought. And of course he is constantly stroking the damn thing. Often he will walk slowly, as if his years weigh heavily upon him, though he can break into a run at any moment.


When Fenrath was young, his town was home to an old mage. He looked up to the mage, and insisted the mage take him on as a pupil. Eventually the mage acquiesced, some say from annoyance at Fenrath’s persistence, but Fenrath believes the mage saw great magical potential in him – no one knows the truth for sure. In any event, the mage had a long beard and a head of white hair, and wanting to emulate his master, Fenrath crafted a beard and wig of white out of some wool from friend’s flock of sheep.

Nice folks say that Fenrath “approaches life from a different angle”; others exclaim that he is crazy, or "a little off”. But unlike a gamey arm, his costume serves a purpose. It allows Fenrath to approach the adventuring life without fear. He is as brave as a heavy warhorse in his wizard uniform, and most people forgive him his quirk. He has not yet found much adventure, but so adorned, he is ready for it.

One day recently, a friend asked him to tend his sheep over the fortnight for him. A favor given, a favor returned. It seemed a simple enough task, guarding the flock against wolves with the help of a couple sheepdogs and his magic. What a good opportunity to map some of the surrounding lands as well, as cartography is a hobby he wants to pursue. He followed the sheep over a wide range of lands. At night he would keep watch as the sheep slept, in the early morning they’d move, and in the afternoon he could nap while they grazed and spent time lying in the sun. On the 13th day, he woke to find one of the sheep eating the map he had been creating. Fenrath wanted to punish the sheep, but instead showed mercy to the creature.

The next day while napping, the entire ungrateful flock wandered off on Fenrath during the afternoon. He awoke to find himself completely alone, as the sheepdogs had of course followed the flock. Having no idea how to follow tracks, (perhaps not even knowing of such a things existence) he wandered off in a random direction hoping to find them. Three days of wandering in the crags, and he is starting to run low on food, and has found himself in a strange land that feels totally unlike the one he grew up in.


I must confess, I am not a Sheppard, nor have I ever looked after a single sheep. My father was a landholder and knight of some fame. I have two older brothers and sisters, and am the last child. My older brothers were quite adept with the sword, and as was customary took after him in his knightly pursuits. My mother’s attention was mostly occupied with teaching my sisters to become proper and fine ladies to someday wed and bring honor to my family. I as the last child, had much leeway in deciding what my course in life would be. As a boy I stole off to the surrounding village often and became fast friends with the commoners, specifically one lass who was the daughter of the Sheppard. Evelyn, sweet Evelyn, hair of gold and eyes of the deepest blue. Oh the days we spent carefree among the mangrove swamp and the lake to the north of the manor. She was my only friend, and life was blessedly good.

By the summer of my 13th year, I felt the growing of manhood, and our friendship became more, serious. My mother eventually took notice of my absence and where I had been spending all my time not spent on my studies. So she sent me to live with her cousin, the Crown Prince to learn the ways of court and politics. I was able to escape one last time to tell Evelyn of my misfortune, and we swore to wait for one another as children often do.

From then on I was raised in the castle of the queen and never returned home for 6 long years. Separated from the girl whom I had come to love I scorned the ways of court and constantly clowned among the royalty, making myself a nuisance in the hopes of being sent home to my sweet Evelyn. It was not to be though, as my mother was a vicious negotiator, and her cousin kept his word to keep me at the castle. After the first couple years it was obvious that I would not be getting thrown out, with the thought of getting back to sweet Evelyn always in my mind, I busied myself in the library of the castle, learning whatever secrets the books chose to share. After a few months, the attendant of the librarian, a man named Russman began picking out books for me. Eventually he introduced me to magic, and from then on it dominated my time. By the time I had reached my 19th year I was quite skilled in the arcane arts. My education and childhood were over, so it was time to return home.

My homecoming was as can be expected for the most part. My brothers were warriors of incredible skill and grace, my sisters had grown into true beauties to behold, delicate, but confident. My parents were happy that I had found a calling, and our reunion was a good one. The next day I left the manor for a morning gallop in search of my fair Evelyn. Arriving at the home of her family, they remembered me, and bid me welcome, as would any good servant of the crown, but I sensed an unease about them when enquired about their daughter. Not wishing to displease the son of their lord protector, they told me I would find her in the shop of the blacksmith, without another word, they closed their doors to me, and I was left alone.
With a slight sense that things were amiss I walked slowly through town, afraid to find what I feared in my heart were true. As I approached the building I heard the familiar voice which I had been dreaming about all those years, and the tone was the one of secrets exchanged with an intimate smile that I knew very well, it was not speaking to me however. . . . . . (single tear)

. . . . Of course she had taken up with one of her station while I was away, and the look on her face when I entered the building told me I had been a fool. She made no apologies, and even more she made reference to our youth together in a series of jokes to her well muscled companion. They laughed together, at my foolishness, and my anger rose. All I had thought about for years was this moment, and the weight of it now crushed my soul. I held my temper in her presence and rode off in a huff. As a left the village I rode into the wilds. My heart broken, I happened to come upon the sheep as they wandered through the grasslands tended by Evelyn’s brother, Malcolm. He was a good boy when I had known him, but things of course change.

I used my talent in magic to create the image of a pixie, and lured Malcolm away from his flock with the promise of a pixies touch and magic. When the boy was far enough away, I grabbed a sheep and made off with it. The plan was to create a disguise, my faithful beard and wig, and return to the village to spy upon my love and her blacksmith. With the little sewing skill I picked up as a young boy watching my mother teach my sisters, I fashioned this ridiculous headgear. That evening I returned to town again, in some clothes I stole from a line and my new disguise. I spied on Evelyn, and was caught by the fruit seller. He took one look at me, knew exactly who I was and couldn’t help but laugh, truly I realized, I was a fool.

I decided then that I would not stay in this place which held such heartache to the young man that I was. Now I realize how silly of a thing it was to leave, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. I went home to the manor, and ate a full and beautiful meal of roasted duck in a blueberry glaze with white wine and coriander stuffing. After I retired from dinner that evening I left the manor. I rode until my horse was near death, and left him with a stranger. After that I walked, and thought, and decided that if a fool I was to be, I would be the best fool the world had ever known. I believe you all know the rest. I apologize for my behavior these past weeks, and promise that things will be different now, as this land needs our heroism greatly.

Fenrath Jurath

Thunder Rift FenrathJurath