Fauxe

She was born from an unlikely love — the daughter of a human soldier and an elven actress, brought together in the midst of a war hundreds of years ago.

Their relationship was never meant to last. Wars rarely allow room for love, and eventually, the two were separated by the very conflict that had brought them together.

Her father was killed by goblins during the last great invasion.

Her mother survived.

A travelling artist by nature, she raised her daughter from town to town, performing wherever there was an audience willing to listen. From her, she learned everything she knows about music: the lute, the lyre, the rhythm of a song, and the subtle power of a melody to bring people together.

Music became more than an art.

It became the language through which she understood the world.

Eventually, she enlisted in the army of the elven nation of Sherazade. There, surrounded by soldiers and the constant threat of war, she found something she had never expected to find in an army: faith.

She converted to the religion of Furor, the Aspect of Life and Death.

To her, the boundary between life and death was much like the strings of her lute and lyre. A single thread separated one note from another, yet both were part of the same song. Life and death were not opposites to be feared, but two sides of the same existence.

Her faith shaped the way she fought.

Despite being a remarkably capable and powerful warrior, she rarely sought violence. She preferred to calm tensions, negotiate when possible, and find peaceful solutions before reaching for a weapon. Among the soldiers, she became a source of encouragement and morale, the person who could lift spirits even when the battlefield seemed hopeless.

But as the years passed, she began to understand something.

The army was not where she belonged.

She had spent much of her life surrounded by soldiers, but she had never truly become one of them. Her mother's music had always remained with her, and the ideals of Furor had taught her that life was worth preserving, not simply defending through endless bloodshed.

So, late in her life, she finally walked away.

She joined a mercenary guild.

The name meant absolutely nothing to her.

It was strange, difficult to pronounce, and apparently important to everyone else. She never quite understood what it was supposed to mean.

But the people seemed friendly enough.

That was good enough for her.

Decades have now passed since she joined the group. She has fought alongside them, travelled with them, celebrated with them, and watched the world change around them.

Through all those years, she has remained much the same: a powerful warrior who would rather resolve a conflict without bloodshed, a musician who carries the lessons of her mother wherever she goes, and a devout follower of Furor who understands that life and death are simply two notes in the same eternal song.

And, somehow, she has found a family among a group of mercenaries whose name she still doesn't understand.

Weapon (scimitar), artifact (requires attunement by a Paladin/Bard)

Damage: 1d6 slashing (scimitar)

Properties: Finesse, martial

Bonus: +2 to attack and damage rolls

While attuned to this weapon:

• On each hit, you choose whether the weapon deals force or psychic damage.
• The blade functions as a spellcasting focus for Bard spells.
• When you expend Bardic Inspiration, the die may be added to damage rolls or saving throws, in addition to its normal uses.
• Once per turn when you cast a Bard spell, you may roll on the College of Spirits Tales from Beyond table without expending a use.

Once per long rest, you may cast legend lore without material components.