Kael Daejor
■■'s Advocate
Kael never had a family name to inherit only a temple to grow up in. Left on its steps as an infant, he was raised by priests who taught him the free stories of countless gods, but never asked him to worship any of them. His godfather, a scholar who valued freedom over devotion, told him that faith should be chosen, not inherited. Kael took that to heart. He read endlessly, not prayers but stories, tales of heroes, lost kingdoms, and divine bargains. He learned the shape of the world through words on old parchment rather than sermons.
Among the many stories he devoured, one held his fascination above all others: the tale of the Leilon Five. It followed five unlikely adventurers who rose from obscurity to stand against darkness itself. Each new chapter appeared as if written by an unseen hand, updating itself over the years. Kael grew up with that story its triumphs, its losses, its faith in ordinary people. To him, it was only a fairytale.
Years later, as an adult, Kael found himself travelling with a caravan bound for Phandalin. The journey was unremarkable until the familiar rhythm of events struck him with déjà vu-raided paths, whispered names, even small coincidences that mirrored scenes from his beloved book. It was then that he realized: the story he had read was unfolding before him.
That same night, the book stopped updating. On its final page were the words: “Thank you for your continued support. I have left you a gift.” Then it vanished.
From that day onward, Kael felt… different. The world seemed sharper, threads of possibility more visible. He could recall faint echoes of how things were meant to happen, just flashes of understanding, instincts born of memory rather than magic. It wasn’t control, only insight. But it was enough to set him apart. Enough to make him something between a reader and a participant.
At first, he stayed on the sidelines, a background figure, an observer in someone else’s story. He guided lost travelers, closed off small dangers, and tidied the loose ends that the heroes would have overlooked. He was content to be the invisible hand keeping the tale intact. But as the story advanced, his quiet involvement began to ripple outward.
When the Leilon Five reached the ruins of Merdelain, everything changed. In the story Kael had read, their tale was meant to end in triumph, five heroes standing together against the darkness. But the real story fractured long before its ending. Idris Doryu, the companion Kael admired most, vanished after being drawn into the Shadowfell to fight battles of his own. The others searched for him, but when they finally reached that place, it was too late, Idris was gone, slain far from the light of the world he’d once saved.
Kael remembers that the story he read had promised a different ending-an army of Talassan zealots and undead converging on Leilon, Idris wielding the Ruinstone in a final act of sacrifice to save the coast. But that ending never came. The pages were blank where his friend’s victory should have been. The story had changed, and Kael no longer knew how it was supposed to end.
Kael couldn’t tell whether he had caused it. Maybe by acting where he shouldn’t have, he’d broken something that was never meant to bend. Or maybe this was simply what the story had always intended, beyond the pages he’d been allowed to read.
Now, Kael wanders a world that no longer matches the one he remembers. The heroes he once read about are scattered or gone. The gods he learned of in the temple remain silent. He continues forward, guided by instinct, insight, and the faint echo of a vanished story—seeking not to relive it, but to find its true ending, whatever that may be.