• Name: Bagheera (Buh-GEAR-ah). He is commonly known as "the druid" and few earn the right to use his given name to his face.
  • Player: Brent
  • Race: Shifter, razorclaw (male)
  • Class: Druid
  • Level: 5th
  • Homeland: Tyr'Wyking

Valuable Equipment

Weapon: Staff of Storms +1
Armor: Standard
Neck: Gloaming Shroud +1

The druid is an unkempt creature. Ragged but serviceable robes of hide cover his frame. The hides themselves are much stained by travel and weather, a mix of browns and faded grays rudely stitched together. On the rare occasions he stands fully upright he is tall at 5'9" and his casual strength evident. On most occasions his slightly stooped carriage makes it likely people will underestimate his vigor. He carries a worn staff of gnarled wood, polished only by years of wear, and his common use of it as a walking staff furthers the illusion of frailty.

His black hair is tangled and matted, twigs and leaves commonly mixing with the uncombed and uncut strands. He also has a full mustache and beard. This beard reaches to his knees, streaked here and there with gray. Above the mass of hair is a lined and rough-skinned face, with brilliant blue eyes, piercing and unnerving if you are the object of his interest.

His favorite alternative form is that of a large black panther. As a panther he is much neater, with sleek fur and gleaming white fangs. His eyes remain a disturbingly intense blue however.

Gruff, acidic, and cynical are the politer terms used to describe the druid's demeanor, though not to his face. Overbearing, arrogant and presumptive might be other terms that could still be uttered before children. His language is abrupt, often coarse, disdainfully absent of courtesies and sometimes overly concise. Asking him to elaborate is an invitation for a brief tirade on one's flaws and deficiencies.

He is not known to be deceitful, though he is quick to point out that it is not a lie to keep the truth to oneself. Some assume his coarse manner is because he is uncomfortable in civilized surroundings. The truth is that civilized people are uncomfortable around him. He is indifferent to his environment, whether it be palace or pig sty. Because of this, the trappings of royalty, wealth and power do not impress him.

Others have occasionally called him a protector or guardian of nature and the wilds. He scoffs at such labels, and if he deems those that use them worthy of instruction he will scornfully reply: "I am the wild."

Tales have recently begun to surface of a mysterious druid who wanders the Isles, seeking some unknown treasure. The druid has indeed visited much of the known provinces, for no visible purpose. At times he returns to Tyr'Wyking and disappears into the deep jungles; unseen, unknown, and all but forgotten.

Like most of the people of Tyr'Wyking, he is hardy and self-reliant. Among many other intolerances, the druid is contemptuous of those that cannot look out for themselves. This is only true of adults or young-adults however. With children he is uncharacteristically patient, kind and a tendency to instruct or guide shows itself. Much like nature itself though, he is direct or even harsh in his teachings. The druid would consider a decade of nightmares small price to pay for an important lesson successfully imparted. Parents, of course, rarely agree.

Some say he is an exile, others a crusader and a few call him monster. The druid keeps his own counsel, bright blue eyes seeing deeply whether they're in a dim tavern corner or glowing from a sleek black panther's face in the shadowed jungle night.

Friends, Patrons, and Allies
The druid has few that would name him friend. There are those who are indebted to him in one way or another for past deeds both large and small. A handful of others respect his calling and freely give him aid when they can. Mostly his allies consist of people who's goals or desires coincide with his for a short time.

The druid often visits an elven priestess of Melora in Mentiel. The girl (young by elven standards at only 87) genuinely enjoys the gruff druid's company and hopes to guide and temper his passions for the spirits of nature into the gentler path of elven symbioses. He goes to her seeking help with some of his many inner conflicts, most notably the vehement anti-civilization nature of the Shadow Glade druids that trained him.

One might assume that a person so lacking in friends would be abundantly endowed with enemies. It is true that there are many people he has offended in one way or another. There are numerous others who have had their plans interfered with or thwarted by the druid's actions. Yet even so, few are openly hostile. If there are some who nurse a hatred of the druid and plot against him, they do so secretly.

The druid rarely speaks of his family. He will occasionally attribute a bit of wisdom to his mother, but of his father he says nothing. In rare mellow moments he might speak of his grandfather and grandmother, generally in relation to some childhood memory. He will usually deflect any inquiries about his family, growing even more terse and rude than usual if the questioner persists.

Thorough investigation will reveal that his mother was a half-elf, elven on his grandmother's side. His grandfather is Xynthian and if plied with enough ale might tell a tale or two of adventuring when he was younger. Of the druid's father no one in the family will speak. It is clear from Bagheera's appearance and abilities that his father must have been a lycanthrope or shifter.

Notable Traits
The druid is militantly indifferent to his surroundings. He is more likely to spend the night curled up in panther form than in a bedroll or tent. Bathing is a hit-or-miss affair mostly driven by weather and terrain rather than any need for personal cleanliness. Contrasting his lack of personal care he takes great pains not to despoil the area around him, whether a room at an inn or a jungle clearing.

The druid dislikes swimming or indeed any amount of water larger than a small pond. He is not afraid of deep water or swimming, especially with his ability to transform into water-friendly creatures, but he has a deep dislike of it nonetheless. He does not understand sailors at all, believing them something just short of mad.

The druid is also intolerant of pompous discourse, empty speeches, and meaningless small talk. Most mistake this for impulsiveness but this is not so. The druid is perfectly willing to participate in philosophical discussion into the wee hours with a tankard of ale before him. He is even willing to sit quietly and listen to others discourse on mysteries, history, or philosophy. But polite nothings are purposeless to him and he has no patience for those that traffic in them.

Tales of Bagheera

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