| Derish Snowpaw | |
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| Move Silently Loudly | |
|---|---|
| Nicknames: | |
| Race: Gnoll (northern) | |
| Gender: Male | |
| Born: Yes | |
| Home Region: Girn Mountains | |
| Age: ?? | |
| Class: Fighter | |
| Eye color: ?? | |
| Hair color: White | |
| Party Status: Inactive | |
| Affiliation: none |
Derish Snowpaw, 9'2, 240 pounds, already has an impressive image, even before his artic toned fur, quite different from the local gnolls.
Derish hails from the far north of the Nieva Mountains, between the Skydragon Citadel, and the Snow Fields of the mountains. He comes from the clan of the same name, a very large and prosperous group of gnolls, just a hair more civilized than the usual gnolls. At least, they are literate, and exercise caution instead of blind aggression.
Derish was a prominent warrior amoung the clan, participating in the survival against the elements, the monsters, and of course, the catfolk. It seems a bit cliche for a dogs versus cats battle to exist, but it's very real up in the mountains. The two have vied for resources, territory, and the attention of the silver dragons for generations now. Derish lived an ordinary, snow wolf life, up until a very peculier encounter during one of the many dangerous avalanches that occur in the mountains.
There's an old, joking saying amoung the gnolls of the north. They say you're not an elderly old fart until you can look into an oncoming avalanche, and simply say "Bugger, not again!". It suffices to say that gnolls and catfolk alike are often caught in the avalanches, and instead of developing ways to avoid their seemingly random and chaotic occurances, they instead found ways of surviving them. One unusual technique is that, if one finds oneself under miles of snow, it is better to dig down instead of up. Why? Because the snow often only stops tumbling down the mountain when it hits one of the many cave complexes of the mountains. Digging down is often easier, and frequently one can find oneself inside the caves that stopped the onslaught of snow in the first place. Then it's simply a matter of finding an exit elsewhere.. and not getting eaten in the meantime.
Such is life in the frozen north, and such was the case of Derish on a lone scouting mission. There had been reports of catfolk activity in one of the many valleys, and Derish failed miserably in his attempt to dodge several thousand tons of snow headed his way. Knowing he was deeply buried, the persistent arctic dweller started digging, and soon found rock. He followed the slope down carefully, and was then surprised to find another new tunnel in the snow, turning about and heading into the cave. He followed it, cautiously, noting it was a bit small for a gnoll.
He emerged from the freezing snow into the cave, and saw a flicker of light up ahead. His suspicions were confirmed, for gnoll possess darkvision, catfolk do not. With his weapon at the ready, he rounded the corner, but was still not ready for what he found. A catfolk priestess, one of the emissaries of the silver dragons, and she wasn't in good shape. She had been unlucky in the fall, and although lucky to be near the cave entrance, had broken her leg. She was in no condition to survive now, and certainately in no shape to face a fighter like Derish.
Luckily for her, Derish was even less violent than his kin. She was surprised when he tended to her wounds instead of slaying her on the spot, and when asked, Derish merely answered that he had never understood the fight between their two peoples, and no one seemed to have an answer as to why it was happening. To his surprise, her situation was much the same. Even though they were training her to be the one of the head priestess of the Singing Sky tribe, no one could explain why they fought gnolls, or for how long for that matter. This likeness between two very different beings brought them a bit closer to one and other, and it was easily the first time anything close to peace existed between a catfolk and a gnoll.
He helped her bind the broken leg, and even carried her through the tunnel system, which was only inhabited by a few of the monsterous insects of the north and a not-so-hostile polar bear, luckily for them. Derish dispatched the bugs with ease, and with her guidance, they found their way out of the caves on the other side. He helped her as far as the bare edge of her teritory, well past what a gnoll would normally consider safety. They bid each other farewell, another oddity between a gnoll and a catfolk, and went their seperate ways, perhaps both believing this was just a chance meeting, and it would not happen again.
Yah. Right.
Over the next few months, the two seemed to keep running into each other, often alone, rarely with others in tow. It is no small wonder that when the two were on either side of the battlefield, the encounter rarely came to violence. Over time, they actually began to actively seek one and other, having secret meetings and discussing their two peoples. A surprise to both was that likeness was easy to find between the two, where as differences were not. The catfolk and the gnolls were little more than a pair of arctic tribes, not the drastically different worlds they had been previously taught to believe. Soon, they began to draw closer to each other, growing accustomed to one and other's company, and, against all the taboo of their people, in love.
But, only a fool could imagine that their seperate clans had not began to take notice. One particularly annoying thorn in their relationship was the keenly sensitive noses of their own people.. and gnoll and catfolk smelled quite distinctively to one and other. Another was their constant insistance on going out alone, which irked the curiousity of their people. Eventually, the truth came out. Perhaps it was the subdued state of arctic life, but the truth did not bring sudden and deadly violence, only dismay. Neither tribe could believe it true, a gnoll and a catfolk. It was unthinkable. Both sides were desperate, and went knocking on the doors of the silver dragons..
Silly kitties and puppies.
The silver dragons, being of a considerably more enlightened society (and having numerous inter-species relations of their own) reacted with little more then curious amusement. To sum it up nicely, they said "And this is a problem how?".
The catfolk and the gnolls, now without their problem solving guidance, hadn't a clue of what to do. The drama kept rising, and rising, making it near impossible for Derish and his lover, Shara, to see one and other, until finally it came to a pass. Derish announced to Shara late one night that he was sick of the childish quarreling between their people, and had heard that it was jeopardizing Shara's ascension to high priestess. He said that he shoud leave, for the better of them both.
But Shara had one up on the poor dog. She gave him her key, and insisted that he take it with him.
This was just not any key. It was one of the master keys to Skydragon Citadel, and could allow the bearer access to any of the halls within. It was a precious and treasured object amoung the catfolk, and Derish could hardly believe his huge ears when Shara announced in return that if she could not have him, then they, her tribe, could not have their high priestess. Derish dared not argue. It was a tearful farewell, but he fled his homeland with key in paw.
And so the story of Derish Snowpaw has come to now.