Need a character background written up?

[Tawmis]

OK, here's one...
Stereotypical elf loves nature (and needs a stereotypical pretty elf name). She sets out to explore more of the world beyond her home forests, though she remains in the wilderness for the most part. Somewhere along the way, she is killed, but comes back to life. She then becomes a paladin, and will take the Oath of the Ancients. At this point, she takes a more active role in protecting the light and nature, and sets out to find a place where she is needed. Twist: she comes back through reincarnation, and as a dwarf. This dwarfness should prompt some fun roleplaying down the road, mainly because she (still) doesn't like dwarves, but it seems incidental to this part of the story.
So first, how did she die, and what was it about that encounter that made her resolve to take this oath? Second, how was she revived? The obvious answer is a druid (level 9+), but were they also involved in that fateful encounter somehow?
Paladins who swear the Oath of the Ancients cast their lot with the side of the light in the cosmic struggle against darkness because they love the beautiful and life-giving things of the world. Tenets: Kindle the Light. Shelter the Light. Preserve Your Own Light. Be the Light.

I wrote this for the Forgotten Realms setting (but obviously can be adjusted for homebrew worlds, with just name changes. Here’s a reference to the map I used: https://media.wizards.com/2015/image...ap_HighRes.jpg )

As soon as I saw this one - I started writing, not wanting to plan anything out - just to see where my mind would take me.
Just to get it done as quick as possible as a bonus challenge.
I actually like how this turned out.
Would love to hear ANY feedback you have - good or bad!
Enjoy!
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The wind blew gently through the auburn curls of Ravensky Evermoon as she watched from the treetops of the western end of The Lurkwood, a band of humans exiting the woods. She’d been trailing them since their departure from Mithral Hall. They’d left Mithral Hall after trading wares – such as leathers – to the dwarves, in exchange for weapons.

She’d not been a fan of humans – they spread everywhere, like a disease – tearing down resources, murdering animals – rather than learning to respect nature. Nor was she a fan of the dwarves – while less destructive than humans, in how they lived – dwarves were the primary forgers of the very weapons that spilled so much blood in the many wars that have ravaged the land.

After ensuring that the traveling humans reached the road – she followed for a short while, seeing that they were traveling north to Mirabar, by the looks of things.

This had been her life now, for countless years. As one of the patrols for her people that lived in The Lurkwood – ironic, she realized long ago – about how she lurked about, following those who entered The Lurkwood. The humor of it was not lost on her.

It’d been such a night – similar to the night above – where things would, however, take a drastic turn. A male human wizard, with brown hair and green eyes; along with a dwarf cleric – one of Moradin’s clerics – a Sonnlinor – who was a female, with auburn hair, similar to Ravensky’s – but as she ran, her curls bounced like flames licking the air; and finally, a half-elf female, who appeared to be a druid – because she ran with a wolf by her side. They were being chased by a small band of orcs. The orcs still looked fresh, while the human, dwarf and half-elf looked worse for the wear – cut and bleeding, they were barely staying ahead of the orcs.

“Turn,” Ravensky muttered beneath her breath, watching from the tree line. The last thing she’d wanted was these three running into the Lurkwood – and with them, bringing the company of blood thirsty orcs to potentially damage the woods. Orcs, in her minds, were just like humans – a disease, that spread across the land, with little regard to anything other than spreading their numbers.

However, the trio fleeing from the orcs were not turning. She could hear the wizard shouting, though he was clearly out of breath, “We will find cover in the woods.” Ravensky knocked an arrow and aimed it before the fleeing trio – considering firing a warning shot to deter them from entering the woods – but something stayed her hand – she could almost feel a hand on her shoulder – but no one was there.

As the trio crashed into the woods, with shrubs and branches cutting at their exposed flesh – Ravensky turned and watched as the band of orcs did nothing to slow down. She snarled and gave chase through the treetops – and saw that the fleeing trio had run right into the small Avenesta Lake – a clearing, and were now in the open – and too winded to run further. They simply turned and faced their pursuers knowing that they would die here.

As the orcs burst into the clearing – they cheered and raised their weapons in victory. It had been a glorious hunt and their prey had given them a good chase – but the hunt had come to an end – they would severe the heads of the trio, rip out their teeth for necklaces, and put their heads on a spike that would be boldly displayed on the front lines of the orc camp.

As one of the orcs – howled and began charging – the sound of the wind making a quick snapping sound could be heard – and the orc’s body jolted and he fell forward; an arrow through his chest. The trio looked amongst one another – none had a bow and arrow – even the orcs were confused – unsure how their companion had been killed. None of the trio had pulled out any weapons.

Ravensky leaped down from the trees. “<Turn around now. My clan is in the trees. Leave now, and you live. Stay here a moment longer, we rain down arrows on you and your kind.>”

“What is she speaking?” Elias, the human wizard asked, in a hushed whisper.

“Near as I can tell,” Ellaranna Hammerstone, the dwarven cleric whispered back, “some form of Orcish. But it sounds older. Outdated, almost.”

“Where did she come from,”Fallean Oakstrider, the half-elf druid asked. “I’d heard of rumors of Elves in these woods… but never knew it to be true. They never showed themselves.”

The orc barked back an assortment of insults, then charged forward – axe in hand, urging the others to follow – and after a moment of not seeing their leader not get buried in arrows – they followed, shouting and cheering, and swinging their weapons wildly in the air.

Ravensky turned to the trio, “If you have anything left in you – now is the time.” Then she turned back and began rapidly firing arrows. Elias, the wizard unleashed a wave of magic missile; while Ellaranna blessed Ravensky, and Fallean summoned spikes from the very ground to lunge forward – through the orc’s feet – who howled in furious pain.

Ravensky saw the leader – in immense pain – throw his axe. Ravensky had fired a shot and struck him in the throat – but the axe was already flying – and she could see in slow motion – that it was headed for the dwarf cleric, who was tending to the half-elf druid, who’d been hit in the arm by a thrown axe – unaware her own life was about to come to a tragic end.

Without thinking – and not even sure why – something in Ravensky – something she felt – she leapt in front of the axe – and felt it bite deep into her chest. She collapsed to the ground – but didn’t really feel it. She was just noticing that it was getting increasingly more difficult to breathe. When Ellaranna turned and saw blood pouring from Ravensky’s gaping wound in her chest – her expression couldn’t mask the horror.

Ellaranna kneeled down and grabbed Ravensky’s hand. “Why did you do that?”

Ravensky smiled, blood trickled out of her mouth as she wheezed, “It felt like the right thing to do…”

She smiled – then died – darkness washing over her.

A moment later? Hours later? What happened to time?

She was awakened with a start.

KLANG! KLANG! KLANG!

The sound of something being struck repeatedly and with such force.

“What’s this now?” a gruff voice asked.

In the coals of his forge was a gleaming gem. He reached into the searing flames as the fires parted for him. He picked up the searing diamond with no ill effects to himself. “Well,” he said, somewhat confused. “You’re out of place aren’t you? You shouldn’t be here? How did you get here? This isn’t your home. What’s this now. I see. I see.”

Where was she? What was she seeing? Why couldn’t she talk? Who was this – dwarf? – talking to? Where was she?

“Sacrificed herself? For you? Are you sure? That doesn’t seem like their kind. But she did? Well. I guess, I can make an exception. Yes. Have your friend cast, I will see to it she’s returned.”

Ravensky tried to speak again – to ask who this dwarf next to the anvil, wielding a massive hammer, three times his size, that he seemed so capable of wielding. But she couldn’t talk. And suddenly she realized – and she wasn’t sure how this was possible – she was the diamond?

And the voice – she could barely make it out. It’d been the dwarf woman – the cleric – who was speaking to this dwarf.

Then she heard the faint sound of the half-elf. She was casting something…

Then she felt as if something had violently pulled her through an impossibly small hole and thrown her down.

White light burned her eyes.

“How do you think she’s going to take the news?” Elias asked as he stroked the campfire.

“Hopefully good,” Fallean whispered. “If she doesn’t – remember, Ellaranna – it was your prayer, your idea.”

“It will be fine,” Ellaranna smiled.

Ravensky sat up – her whole body ached. Everything from the tiniest strand of hair on her head to her finger nails. “The orcs?” she asked, surprised she could talk – but noted her voice sounded different – undoubtedly still recovering.

“Gone,” Elllaranna replied. “After, you… did what you did. It was as if the very woods helped us – they began attacking the orcs.”

“The treants,” Ravensky whispered. “They revealed themselves to you?”

“They did,” Fallean nodded. “I never knew elves and treants were in these woods.”

“It’s how we liked it,” Ravensky said, as she slowly sat up. She felt off. Undoubtedly because he near brush with death. “Thank you for saving me,” she said, looking to the dwarf cleric.

“It wasn’t me,” Ellaranna explained. “It was Fall,” she pointed to the half-elf druid. “And my name is Ella. That over there is Elias. I wanted to thank you for saving my life.”

Ravensky ran her hand through her hair as she walked over to the lake to wash her face.

However.

It was a female dwarven face that stared back at her.

She turned to face the trio.

Then fainted.

“I don’t think she’s going to take kindly to her reincarnation form,” Fallean sighed.

It’d taken weeks for Ravensky to accept what she’d become – and it took Ella, explaining every day – how she prayed to her god, Moradin for advice – and how she had used the last of her energy healing Fell, from the wound – but Fell still had magical energy in her – and reincarnated her.

Fell traveled with Ravensky for months after, and Ravensky accepted her role as a Paladin of Moradin – embracing her connection to nature – and the Oath of the Ancients.