Kavan Lennox

Race: Human
Class: Cleric

Appearance

Topped with unkempt, short auburn hair, young Kavan is a tall, lithe human dressed in old chainmail and traveler’s garb but clutching a finely carved staff and wearing a well-polished symbol of Avandra around his neck.  Quick with a smile, it still seems he’s smiling more to himself rather than sharing something.  Kavan’s ropy forearms and easy grace with his beloved staff belie his slight build.  Never seen without a book or two, Kavan sometimes seems to be a bit removed from his surroundings, observing intently,  rather than an active part of it.  He’s never shy about lending a hand when needed however, nor of asking questions.  While educated and knowledgeable, his exuberant excitement reveals that it’s not experience but dedicated studying that has taught him of the world.

Backstory

The story of Kavan Lennox is not a story of woe, though like all good stories it does have its dark times.  And like all such good stories it’s not a complete tale, but only a beginning.

Born of a poor farming family, Kavan was the second of two sons.  Generally quiet and oft to daydream, Kavan was not much like his older brother Niall, and his father Laird was never shy about giving his opinion of which was the lesser son.  While Niall was broad of chest  and dark-haired like their father, Kavan was of a slighter build and inherited his mother’s auburn hair.  Niall was content to work the fields alongside their father who always claimed it was a noble, honest calling.  To Kavan it felt only simple and dull.  More often than not he would abandon his chores on the farm to wander off into the woods, either to explore about or just to perch in a tree rereading one of the few books they could afford.  Of course this frustrated Laird to no end and “useless” was about the kindest work he used to describe Kavan.  This didn’t strain his relationship with his brother in the least however.  Niall was always supportive of Kavan’s flights of fancy and said he wasn’t made to be a farmer anyway.  He usually finished Kavan’s chores as well as his own when their father wasn’t paying attention, which is the main reason Kavan got off as lightly rebuked by his father as he did.

Kavan may not have had an ideal relationship with his father, but he loved his mother Dymphna dearly.  Not only did his hair come from her, but she was also the source of his love of learning and endless curiosity.  Many nights as a young child Kavan would sit at his mother’s feet while she would tell him wondrous stories of imaginary lands, wondrous beasts, feykind, and wielders of powerful magic.  She once laughingly told Kavan that he had a dash of Elven blood through her, and it might be that he was related to one of the fey princes that he fancied so.  As he became a young boy, she began teaching him herb lore and how to read and write.  The few books their family could afford were more honestly the few books his mother could afford.  She sold ointments and salves to the surrounding community, barely asking enough to cover the cost of the containers, and saving all of it for her love of books.  Kavan always felt she had the potential to be so much more, but she never could be persuaded to talk about her past.  The one time he worked up the courage to ask how she ended up with his father she merely laughed and answered how else would she have been blessed with Kavan and Niall?

There came a time one harvest season when brigands were preying on the farmers as they made the long journey to market.  To call their farming community a village would have been generous.  They had no militia, nor could they convince the undermanned towns they did business with to send any guards to protect the roads.  Full of the righteousness of youth, Kavan’s brother Niall rallied a handful of other able-bodied teens and went out to deal with the marauders on their own.  While the brigands were a small group, the boys were unskilled and armed with naught much more than good intentions.  The brigands got word of the retaliation and laid an ambush.  The village hunting party was caught unawares and killed to a man.  Ultimately, the boys managed to achieve their goal however indirectly.  Once the nearest town heard of the slaughter they were finally convinced to empty out the garrison and put an end to the band of highway robbers once and for all.

The rescue came too late though, and the same blow that fell his brother left a festering wound in Kavan’s family.  His mother, never without a glowing smile and a twinkle in her eye, seemed to fade after Niall’s death.  His father sought his solace in a bottle and seemed to forget that Kavan and his mother even existed.  As neglect took its toll on the farm, so too did his mother’s health begin to fade.  The teas Kavan made did little to help her condition and his father was of no help.  He had given up on the farm altogether and when he wasn’t eking enough coin for the barest amount of food and a much more generous amount of ale, he was passed out in his chair holding a wooden horse Niall had carved as a boy.

That winter marked Kavan’s fourteenth year, and his last with his family.  His mother’s condition had been worsening, and she was frequently racked with coughing fits that Kavan could do nothing to stop.  Laird had gone to trade the last of Dymphna ‘s tinctures for food he claimed, but Kavan knew he would lose most of any earnings in some nondescript tavern.  A rare winter storm came, and the temperature of their small house plummeted.  Kavan tried keeping his mother warm by moving her bed near the fire, but the draft through the now-decrepit house thwarted his efforts.  For all his ministrations, his mother didn’t live through the night.  As the winter storm abated, Kavan’s internal storm raged.  He blamed himself for his mother’s death, feeling that he hadn’t studied hard enough, that if he only knew more he would have been able to save her.

After the snow melted, Kavan buried Dymphna next to his brother and walked away from his home without looking back, never to return.  He had nothing other than the clothes he was wearing, and no thought as to where he was going.  So lost was he in his misery that he wandered blindly, oblivious to vines that pulled at him and branches that scratched at him.  After five days of walking in a fugue, Kavan finally collapsed.  This might have been the end of Kavan’s tale, but as luck would have it he was found by a forest hermit.  Despite his aged appearance, the hermit easily carried Kavan back to his hut.  For three days Kavan slept while the hermit tended his wounds and poured strange-flavored soups into his throat.  Eventually Kavan awoke, surprised to be alive let alone feel as well and relaxed as he did.  When prompted, Kavan was surprised to find himself telling everything about himself to the old man and he finished by painfully recounting his mother’s final days.  As the tears streamed down his face, Kavan lamented that he would have done anything to save her but it was beyond him.  At that the old man sadly smiled and explained that he was Branolyn, a cleric of Avandra and surely she had led Kavan to him during Kavan’s darkest time.  He offered to teach Kavan of Avandra if he was willing to dedicate himself to her service.  Kavan eagerly accepted.

For the next three years Kavan studied with Branolyn.  His days were spent studying the arts martial as Branolyn laughed that a strong heart and strong mind needed a strong body to hold them, usually after landing a well-placed hit on Kavan with a quarterstaff or cudgel.  There was little rest at night however.  After tending Kavan’s bruises Branolyn would commence with his education with just as much vigor as his weapons lessons.  As hard pushed as he was, Kavan was far from miserable, in fact his days with Branolyn were some of his happiest.  Like all chapters though, this one too must close.

One spring morning Kavan awoke to see Branolyn packing a bag with some fresh clothes, a few books, and travel provisions.  Propped in the corner was a newly carved staff.  Taken aback, Kavan asked Branolyn where he was going.  Branolyn gave one of his easy laughs and replied that it was Kavan that was leaving.  He explained that Kavan was ready to find his own way in the world, that he knew enough to journey forth and seek his own change.  Kavan knew this for truth as he heard it and embraced the man who had truly been his father.  Branolyn told Kavan that he should journey to Fallcrest as there were stirrings there and surely grand adventures to be had.  Making his final goodbyes, Kavan shouldered his pack, picked up his staff and set out as one of Avandra’s faithful.