Keepers of Arden
Gretchen Stormhammer was a citizen of Lucrecia. Born in a Dwarven settlement across the sea, Gretchen grew up in the mountainous lands of Galabrasia. Gretchen’s parents were an odd couple, as humans and Dwarves rarely marry, much less mate. She grew up an outcast among the dwarven children, but it made her strong. She found her mother’s religion as a child, and it always brought her comfort in the face of her trials. Gretchen fled Galabrasia during the siege by the Black Orcs of Grom’Shalak dark clerics of Gruumsh. She was just out from the coast, when the summoned eruption happened, sinking her homeland to the seafloor. Gretchen watched the ones that didn’t make it to the boats as they burned in the fire of war, and made a vow to use her faith to smite the evil chaos of the world.
By age 20, Gretchen had achieved Cleric status, wielding the power of Pelor’s Holy Light. She fought under a white hood in lands far and near, her grand dwarven mace taking evil by storm for years. Leaders of evil factions everywhere feared the very mention of the one known only as “The Sun’s Wrath”. For nearly 25 years, Gretchen was actively heroic, fighting servants and demigods alike with more adventurers than she could remember. After a prophetic vision, Gretchen threw in the towel, and hung up her mace with only one word resounding in her mind. Lucrecia
She arrived in Lucrecia, and planted herself without her legacy, a commoner. Faithful to her dreams, twenty years after her arrival, a baby arrived at her doorstep, white as the sunlight. She raised the child, who would become Moor Stormhammer, in the faith of Pelor and his Light. For 19 years she strictly kept him on the Path and made sure that he didn’t stray.
Gretchen was captured by the Red Marauders and taken to a cave where she was raped and beaten. The mental anguish of being a frail shell of a once mighty warrior was eclipsed by the comfort she found in knowing Pelor’s plan for her struggle. Her fall would mean Moor’s rise to follow Pelor as a Cleric…the legacy of a titan. She died a commoner in a cave in a pool of cold blood, bruised and weak. The only things she left behind were the lessons she had taught, and the paint stripped, stark white holy symbol that had hung around her neck for so many years, an omen and a keepsake to her adopted child.
Her tales of valor remain unknown to Moor to this day, but people far and near still talk about the heroic deeds of “The Sun’s Wrath”