Good morning all!<br/><br/>My sheet's finaly done.<br/><br/>I have her history written in beneath gear, but I'm reprinting it here.  :)<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">History<br/>   Kili was born 19 years ago on the 11th day of Elias.  She was the fourth child of Martin Freeholder and his wife Onica.  It was a hard pregnancy.  Onica only survived birthing due to the intercession of an elderly priestess of Chaunteah.  That learned magician used powerful potions to extinguish Onica’s fertility, saying that another babe would likely kill her, but there was  no reason she shouldn’t enjoy her husband’s love.  <br/><br/>   Kili grew up a bit rough and tumble.  She learned the skills her mother offered, but was just as happy working the field or in the barn alongside her brothers.  She also wrestled with them and played swords.  <br/><br/>   “Don’t loose those pigtails, squirt,” Darian--the eldest--often told her.  “We might forget you’re a girl.”  <br/><br/>   Most of Kili’s life, the cruel men who flew the banner of the black Z made demands upon the people of their town--a little place called simply Miller’s Hollow.  As a girl, Kili didn’t think that much of it.  They were bullies.  Giving them what they wanted would just make them think they could take more.  What the men in black armor needed was a good punch in the nose.  <br/><br/>   In early autumn of Kili’s eleventh year, someone finally got up the guts to deliver that punch in the nose.  Garet was a distant cousin of hers betrothed to a blue eyed blond named Moreta.  One of the black clad’s caught Moreta around the waist and fondled her in the streets.  Garet ran him through with his spear.  <br/><br/>   The black robed merchant responded by calling forth a bolt of acid with a few simple gestures which knocked Garet to the streets.  The other black clad--swords drawn and shields ready--forced the villagers back as Garet’s screaming form was reduced to bones by the spell.  <br/><br/>   The mage then informed them that--if a proper weregild was not paid for the loss of his soldier on his return, and if they did not bend knee to Bane and the tyrant lord’s representatives--the village would be put to the sword.  <br/><br/>   Riders were dispatched to Elturel and to Berdusk to ask for help, but the reinforcements the Zhentarim were looking for were closer than that.  Five days later, the wrath of the Zhentarim descended on Miller’s hollow.  Forthing orcs and furious ogres smashed their way through the town’s defenders.  men in black armor moved in behind them, cutting down men and collaring women.  Kili’s mother dragged her up into the loft of the barn, holding her tight and demanding her silence as seven black clad warriors cut down her father and three brothers.  They stalked around the barn then ‘til the located the two red haired women in the loft.  <br/><br/>   With a furious roar, little Kili throw herself down from the loft with a pitchfork in hand.  She managed to drive it into the throat of the man who’d killed Darian.  The remaining five soldiers--her father had killed one--surrounded Kili, taunting and cursing.  One was about to run her through with a halberd when her mother leaped from the loft to take the blow in her own stomach.  <br/><br/>   The black clad kicked Onica’s limp form off of his halberd and glowered at Kili, raising the blade again…  <br/><br/>   A baseball sized orb of red hot fire burned clear through his chest!  <br/><br/>   “Pick on someone your own size,” the massively muscled man in the door growled.  They all turned to behold a warrior with a flaming falchion held at the ready.  He wore no armor.  his golden brown ponytail whipped around his body in a fury and five varicolored orbs orbited his head.  <br/><br/>   it wasn’t a particularly creative line, Kili would later remember, but at the moment it felt to her as if Lathander himself had come to her rescue.  The giant fearlessly charged the four armored soldiers, falchion trailing cherry red embers.  He barked arcane phrases and his blade flashed through armor as if it didn’t exist, but severed flesh and bone with ease.  Blows that should have felled even him were turned aside by argent sparks and flashes of blue flame.  The one man who did manage to bloody him was quickly consumed by arcs of blue lightning, and the wound healed in an eyeblink.  <br/><br/>   when the last blackclad fell, the big man flicked his blade clean and shouldered it.  He offered Kili his left hand.  “Come with me.  Time is short.”  <br/><br/>   Still reeling, Kili gasped out, “who are you?”  <br/><br/>   He smiled softly and replied, “Dorian Amblecrown, of Mistledale.  I’m a Harper.”  <br/><br/>   Kili took his hand.  <br/><br/>   The next fifteen minutes were the stuff of ever more nightmares.  Dorian cut his way through orcs and ogres trying to get to the nearest forest.  Though mighty in arm and art, Dorian was not graceful.  Several times the only way he could preserve Kili’s life was to take an arrow on his own body, and his wards were not always sufficient to deflect them.  <br/>   <br/>   At one point, in the middle of a fight with a half dozen orcs, Kili pointed and screamed as the wizard who’d killed Garet sent a red-gold bead of flame hurtling towards them.  <br/><br/>   Dorian spun away from the orcs and threw himself over Kili as fire consume the world.  the moment the flames passed, he straightend up.  He was smoking, but she’d not expected him to surive.  There were now only four spheres orbiting his head, and the orchs were chared corpses on the ground.   Dorian flicked his wrist and the remaning four orbs hammered into the wizard, who doubled over as acid, electricity, frost, and sound brutalized his body.  The wizard gasped out a spell and vanished in a thunderclap.  <br/><br/>   When they finally made it to the tree line, an saddled hipogriff awaited them.  Dorian tossed her into the saddle in front of him and the three beat wing into the sky.  <br/><br/>   With all of Kili’s living relations either slaughtered or enslaved, she persuaded Dorian to let him travel with her.  His songs--and the music of his harp--soothed her nightmares, as did his powerful embrace.  <br/><br/>   From time to time, Dorian would leave her with friends at the herald’s Holdfast in Berdusk.  It was during these times that the little redhead’s insomnia was at its’ worst.  The healthy girl lost some of her physical resilience in those days, despite good food and even a little magical healing, but what she lost in body she made up in mind.  <br/><br/>   The redhead studied hard, mastering arts and sciences, swordplay and magic.  At eleven, she was an illiterate orpha farm girl.  By sixteen, she was a musician, a wizard, a ranger, and a ranger.  <br/><br/>   She still wore pigtails.  <br/><br/>   Kili was thoroughly in love with Dorian by now, but he’d quickly come to see her as a little sister.  Though he was aware that the redhead had grown into a great beauty as well as a formidable mind, it made him proud, not attracted.  <br/><br/>   Realizing this, Kili began to select more revealing outfits.  She grew her hair even longer and wore it sometimes down, others in a ponytail like Dorian favored.  <br/><br/>   At nineteen--after Kili’s formal initiation into the Harper’s, she grew so frustrated with Dorian’s brotherly affection that she couldn’t bare to travel with him anymore.  She sought separate assignments from the High HArpers.  <br/><br/></div></div>