Svanhild Forestblade, Tiefling Shepherd Druid (Patreon)

A fun tiefling druid I drew on commission recently! Svanhild’s player also provided a detailed backstory, which I am posting below!

Character: Svanhild Forestblade, Tiefling Shepherd Druid

According to Gramtese legends, the god-killers consorted with unholy beings believing the ritual would grant them the power to destroy the gods. The Tiefling somehow sprung from that cursed union and their very existence is linked with the greatest tragedies in Gramt history. The loss of the End Wars, the subsequent hatred of humans that caused the other races to turn against them, and the rise of Irelios (the half-elven kingdom) as the human power despite mixing with the other impure races. Were it not for the god-killers and their demon babies, many believe, Gramt would still be strong.

At first, the Gramtese sought to use the Tiefling; both fearing them and wanting to use their natural magical talents. The Gramtese army cordoned off a section of land near the Gramt-Irelios border to serve as the Tiefling’s “pen.” It was the Tiefling’s fate to forever be caught in between states of total annihilation and forced military service. As the various rulers of Gramt debated their outcome at whim, the Tiefling always feared the days soldiers marched into their lands. It meant their loved ones would be killed or dragged off to be killed in “service” to their hosts.

As for resisting, the Tiefling knew it simply wasn’t possible. Their numbers were kept barely around one thousand, split between five clans, and were too occupied with surviving off of the scant resources available to them to rise up. They had great natural magic talent, derived from the very earth itself, but nothing close to the thousands of years of study and practice available to the Gramtese. Furthermore, they knew nothing of the world outside their lands other than a few stories. Even if they managed to escape, where were they to go? What was to say the outside world was better?

For as long as she can remember, Svanhild was taught to be a steward of the land. Her father showed her how to live by using the forest while also respecting it, and her mother helped her hone her ability to hear the forest’s voice. The Renon elders took notice of her magic potential, her gentle nature, and her fierce loyalty to her tribe. When she reached her teenage years, they invited her to their rituals with plans to educate her in the old magic. However, her training would never reach its natural conclusion.

Approximately seventeen years after she began, the soldiers came. Their declaration was the usual: every family must give up one young adult, for military service. It was Clan Renon’s (her clan) turn to answer the call, but it couldn’t have come at a worse time. A long dry season was upon Gramt, the other clans would depend on Renon, and their forests, to survive it. To lose the robust young adults now would devastate the Tiefling. Before she truly knew what she was doing, Svanhild volunteered herself in their place. Her magic, she argued, made her worth several of them.

Svanhild, and a few others were taken and brought miles away to some unknown waste. The soldiers fed them just enough to stay on their feet. One scorching afternoon, they were pushed into the basin of a tall sandy dune, and before anyone had a chance to wonder about the situation, they met the enemy. Giant lizards that appeared as if from nowhere; Gramtese Dragons. These territorial beasts had migrated too close to a Gramtese town. The Tiefling were bait! As the Dragons feasted on her people, the soldiers attacked from behind, but there were more lizards, camouflaged and waiting, that pounced on the soldiers.

Svanhild suddenly found herself alone and surrounded. Yet the beasts hesitated. She soon realized that she could almost hear their thoughts, know that they took her to be part of the land. Her power, it seemed, kept them at bay. Slowly, she walked away from the Gramtese Dragon habitat, allowed to leave because she was the land and not simply another morsel.

Now Svanhild had a choice. She could return home to her tribe. She wanted to. But another thought soon rose in her. She was free. The soldiers were all dead, there was no one to stop her from leaving Gramt far behind. She could seek aid, return to her family with an army.

Taking the surname Forestblade to always keep her people in mind, she went in search of Irelios, a place she knew only from stories. There, perhaps, where races mixed together happily, she would find someone to help her free the Tiefling. Unfortunately, getting their help would mean leaving the wilds to enter a human city and talk to them.

While she has yet to amass her army, apparently there is a thing called "politics" that prevents the half-elven princess form giving her one now, she has gained companions and aid in her quest. A determined but somewhat ditzy half-elf fighter who lost her life protecting the capitol form a Gramtese invasion; a candy, shiny and fashion obsessed half-gnome rogue; a hyperactive, naive, and very sheltered Halfling cleric; and a human paladin of Fotir, the human god slayed by the Gramtese long ago, who is tasked to facilitate the rebirth

What do you think? :)

HD attachment below!