I play Brother Ryn in Miniwargaming’s Heroes of Harinburg D&D campaign. The game is streamed Tuesdays from 1230pm – 430pm EST on their Twitch channel. The game is also posted to their YouTube channel a few days later.
Brother Ryn is a cleric of the Grave and follows Kallina, the Goddess of the Dead. You can check out Brother Ryn’s character sheet on DnD Beyond.
Below is what I submitted to the DM. It was meant to be a description of where Ryn lives. He liked it enough that we played it out during session 2 of our campaign.
Brother Ryn walked through the muddy narrow avenues of the stacks. Things always seemed colder here in the bottom of the stacks. Water dripped from the narrow wooden over passes and the smell of humanity and filth were always evident. There is no wealth to be found here. Sister Zarissa once described the stacks as “one step above beggars”.
Ryn climbed a narrow set of stairs that groaned ever so slightly under his weight. When he reached the top he squeezed against the wall to let a few children playing tag run past him. He then crossed one of the many catwalks that zigged and zagged over the streets below. At last he ducked under a clothesline and came to his door.
There were no locks on the doors here in the stacks, not proper ones at least. Ryn opened his door which hung unsquare and entered his home. It was barely worth the rent he paid for it, but it was home. A worn bed in one corner and a small iron stove in the other. Fire was a constant concern in the stacks, but so was freezing in the cooler months. A wooden dummy stood just inside the door and Ryn hung his armour there. His mace and shield, he leaned in the corner behind the dummy.
In a concealed cubby beneath his bed were his valuables. It was tricky to open and he was sure on more than one occasion it had foiled a looter. Inside was a prayer rug, a few short candles and a prayer book. Prayers were always given to Kallina at the end of the day and he never missed them. He sat on the bed quietly in thought when there was a knock at the door. “Brother? Are you in there?”
Ryn opened the door to find the very elderly woman Jada there. Beside her leaning into her like a frightened animal was a boy. He was covered in filth, but Ryn recognized him as one of the children that had been playing tag. “Sorry for the bother.” Jada smiled. “But the young lad here took a tumble from the catwalk down the way there. I think he’s hurt his arm.”
Ryn smiled and knelt to have a look at the boy. “I’m not much of a doctor.” He lifted the boys sleeve to see a badly swollen arm. The child winced as Ryn inspected him and the old priest frowned. “But, lets see if The Lady can’t offer some help in mending that arm.” Ryn took the child’s arm and closed his eyes whispering to Kallina. He felt the warm divine energy pass from his fingertips into the boy’s arm.
Ryn opened his eye and the little boy had an expression of absolute astonishment over his face. He pulled his arm away and wiggled his fingers and opened and closed his hand. He looked back to Ryn, “Thank you sir.”
“I told you we’d get you fixed up!” chuckled Jada. “Brother Ryn watches out for us. Many thanks to Kallina.” The two shuffled away from the door and Ryn stood there looking down into the muddy avenue. Life in the stacks wasn’t luxury, but it was honest and he could make a difference here.