firbolg bard

Name: none/"Novice" (besides her status as an apprentice, she had not done or been anything notable to her clan, and those outsiders who the clan dealt with peacefully called things such as "apprentice" and "novice" so she uses that as a name if she needs to give one)
Race: Firbolg
Class: Bard
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Background: Outlander
Age: 38
Height: 7'11"
Weight: 260
Appearance: Dark greenish-grey; brown eyes; messy dark brown hair with wooden beads worked into it; simple but sturdy leather armor, a simple necklace with a carved wooden pendant.
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A young lore-keeper and music-maker and story-teller for her nomadic clan, she was brought up knowing her purpose in the clan and was apprenticed in the arts of crafting and creation, she was able to sing just as well as she was able to carve a story onto a fallen log or craft a set of windchimes. As was typical for firbolgs her clan had no names true names for many of the things the stories spoke of, but very atypically almost every story her clan passed down was intentionally untrue to some degree. No one in the clan knows that these tales and words of wisdom are anything but the truth, no more than anyone in the clan knows of a time before they were led onto the path that would lead to their collective steadily declining morality. The clan, to them, was what it was. For example, robbing travelers or raiding unprotected farms and homesteads they came across, or who came across them, during their travels or expeditions was merely a fact of life, and in fact successful raids were treated the same way as successful hunts.

Life was constant and simple until the sickness began to erode life as well as simplicity. No one was able to tell where it came from, and theories ranged from the wrath of nature itself to a cruel curse that had been placed on them, and included anything in between, only growing wilder as they found their magic was incapable of ending it. To make matters worse, it wasn't long before they found if they rested too long while the sickness was with them, that the sickness would begin to spread to the land around them to begin to wither and become blighted as well, fading in time when they left for a new sanctuary. As more and more of the clan fell sick the speed of the land's decay grew as well, which led to them beginning to slay those who were ill or suspected of it in an attempt to purge the sickness as well as slow the effects on the land around them. No matter how many of the sick members were purged, it would always return.

Although she was not ill, every day she woke up afraid that she would be another target of this strange plague, or that the rest of the clan would point to her as one of the sick regardless of if she was. She went to sleep wondering who among her clan would be dead in the morning. Eventually it was too much, and her clan was too few. Knowing that doing so would make them almost impossible to find even if they lived long enough to be found again, she fled under the guise of seeking a cure, which would be her explanation to anyone who asked.

She is now cautiously exploring the world beyond her clan, but also the world beyond their stories and standards.