"He can recall epic songs in moments, is welcome far and near, and people gladly share with him gossip and legend. Only fools look upon him and see 'just' a bard."
— Princess Alusair Obarskyr
Profile
Full name: Baudwyn Brionne
Age: 37
Race: Human (Chondathan)
Sex: Male
Date of birth: 3rd of Nightal, 1323 DR
Place of birth: Suzail, Cormyr
Alignment: Neutral
Patron deity: None (spiritually conflicted)
Profession: Chronicler, Mercenary, Agent of Darkhold
Classes: Bard
Primary language: Common (Chondathan)
Secondary languages:
- Unknown
Physical description:
Baudwyn Brionne is a tall and broad-shouldered man, standing 6’1” with a soldier’s bearing worn down by years of war and travel. His scalp is shaved clean, leaving only a thin shadow of hair around a ringed crown of pale scars. His eyes are a cold and discerning blue. His skin is fair, though weathered by wind and hardship. His attire leans toward utility—leathers and metal with muted tones, rarely ornate. His holy symbol of Kelemvor, once his mother’s, is kept hidden.
Psychological description:
Baudwyn is analytical, disciplined, and slow to trust. He believes history is a battlefield and storytelling is a weapon. While he works for Darkhold, he does so out of calculated necessity, not devotion. He is haunted by questions of justice, legacy, and what becomes of the soul. He rarely lies outright—but truth is something he curates. His habits include journaling, quiet songcraft, and late-night vigils over tombstones.
Religious views:
Baudwyn does not currently follow any deity. Once reverent of Helm in his youth, he lost faith following the downfall of his family. Now surrounded by zealotry and undeath. His future may yet turn toward faith.
Biography
Family
- Lord Deremond Brionne (exiled noble, father)
- Lady Calana Brionne (deceased, mother)
- Theodoric Brionne (uncle, paladin of Lathander, last seen in the North)
History
Whereas some mercenaries sell their blades for gold or glory, Baudwyn Brionne walks the Realms with little more than his regrets, his blade, and a voice soaked in sorrow. Born to a minor noble house in Suzail, Cormyr, Baudwyn was raised to serve court and kingdom alike. He was trained in the bardic arts, fluent in ceremony, and familiar with the company of knights and courtiers. He spent his early years adventuring across Cormyr, earning respect in border skirmishes and royal expeditions, and performing in halls where lords once raised their cups to his songs.
Then, without warning, House Brionne fell.
Their titles were stripped. Their holdings seized. Their names were struck from the record. His mother died in prison, her hands wrapped around a silver symbol of Kelemvor, newly blessed in the wake of the Time of Troubles. Baudwyn and his father fled west, leaving behind a legacy too stained for memory and too dangerous for truth.
No formal charges were ever spoken aloud. In their place rose whispers.
Some say the Brionnes consorted with drow.
Others claim heresy, necromancy, or betrayal at court.
A few believe they offended the War Wizards and were simply erased.
Baudwyn never speaks of it.
In Zhentil Keep, he found bitter purpose. His voice, once used to soothe the hearts of Cormyrian knights, now stirs fear and loyalty in equal measure. The Black Network shaped him into something cold and useful, a bard who sings not of glory, but of death. Eventually assigned to Darkhold, Baudwyn now wanders the Western Heartlands, a quiet fixture in mercenary camps. His songs are known by soldiers and feared by those who understand what they truly mean.
He asks for little, only enough to live. But when the work touches on Netherese ruins or forbidden magic, he demands nothing at all. The reason for this is known only to him, though some who listen closely sense that his grief and his hatred come from the same wound.
Those who hear him perform speak of unnatural stillness. Mist creeps across the earth. Campfires sputter. Dreams become unsettled. Soldiers who follow him into battle report a strange calm, one born not of joy, but of resignation. Some say his songs carry into the realms of the dead. Others whisper that his sorrow is so great, even the gods pause to listen.
He does not sing for the living.
He sings so the dead are not forgotten.
Future
Baudwyn is pulled between the convenience of shadow and the conviction of truth. He may seek redemption, or die trying to atone. A secret sympathizer to the Church of Kelemvor? Time will tell. Until then, he chronicles death with a pen dipped in ash.
Heirloom item
1. A leather-bound field journal wrapped in black sinew cord, containing a mix of battlefield dirges, coded reports, and state-sanctioned lies. The ink bleeds in places, some truths trying to claw free.
2. A broken signet ring of House Brionne, its crest split down the center. The ring no longer fits, but Baudwyn wears it on a cord as both a curse and a reminder.
3. A ceremonial coin bearing Helm’s gauntlet, dulled by age and handling. Once clutched by Baudwyn as a boy during his family’s exile, it remains his last relic of the god he once prayed to in simpler days.
Plot hooks
1. Haunted by the spirit of someone misrepresented in his writings, Baudwyn is forced to reckon with the power, and consequence of his words.
2. A letter arrives claiming his uncle Theodoric lives, igniting a conflict between the man Baudwyn is, and the one he once might have become.
3. Baudwyn's growing discomfort with Zhentarim orders and uncertain path toward spiritual redemption - a potential turning point that may lead to conversion, or ruin.