• Daniela Sylmae

Meet My D&D Charcter | Helvee "The Mad Matriarch"

“My family is my life… but life is like the seasons, in constant change, and we must change with it.”

Helvee has known the life of an outcast since she could utter her first word, but she did not understand true solitude until her mother died at the age of six. The young half-orc watched her human mother’s sky blue eyes close for the last time, the same sky blue eyes she sees when she looks at her reflection in a pond. Eyes that turn hazy when tears start to fall and ripple the waters.

Her orc father was a strong man, physically and emotionally. He cried only once for his wife and then focused on his little half-orc girl. Though it was difficult for him to see Helvee with the chocolate brown hair of her mother cascading down the warm almond skin of his own body, it also gave him strength.

No longer comfortable living in the kingdom of Many Arrows, for it pained him to be too close to humans, he took Helvee and brought her back to his tribe in the northern mountains of Faerûn. After a tense discussion between the tribal leaders and a sacrifice he will never tell another, he and Helvee were welcomed into the tribe. With her husks and build, Helvee felt a hint of hope that she would not be an outcast among the orcs, as she was among the humans. She would soon learn this would not be the case.

The Nightbone Tribe is nestled in the hills of the northern mountains, and as any other orc tribe, they are prepared for battle even on the worst of days. The war drums send a rumbling through their lands every morning, even if it was just a fight between two orcs over a dispute of a meal.

Helvee grew up as an orc. She learned to fight in their ways, finding comfort with a two-handed weapon in her palms. Her growl turned to thunder in her chest as her orc-ish features became more and more prominent in her upbringing. She soon became an opponent to be feared, almost never losing a fight.

Though a skilled fighter, she was never fully feared nor accepted among her peers. The other young orcs could not look past her human features, especially those sky blue eyes. She was never accepted into a circle or even into the tribe. On the outskirts she stayed.

One friend she did make, however. An orc girl named Ghorza befriended Helvee, for Ghorza had her strengths not on the battlefield but in the kitchen. Ghorza felt at home with a cauldron and a fire pit. Impressed by Helvee’s strength, Gorza felt it may be beneficial to her to find a friend in a warrior.

Helvee and Ghorza became close friends. Ghorza did not care what the other orcs thought of her. Within days, Ghorza and Helvee were the best of friends. Helvee taught Ghorza how to defend herself, and Ghorza happily kept Helvee’s belly full.

With a new friend in the half-orc, Ghorza became a target for taunting, but the taunters were nothing but target practice for Helvee. Helvee fiercely protected Ghorza with her innate motherly instinct. Any who spit at Ghorza or made a snarky remark would find a fist to the face within seconds and eventually that face planted on the ground.

Her adulthood at age 14 came with two surprises. The first was a joyous surprise. An orc man who had a reputation of brute strength had eyes for Helvee. Believing it too good to be true, Helvee paid no mind to it, but that was unacceptable to Ghorza.

On the night of a celebratory bonfire, Ghorza approached the orc man, Kruck. With a husk of an alcoholic drink in hand and a bit of a sluggish motion from the drink taking effect, Ghorza was the best wing-woman Helvee could have asked for. Ghorza told Kruck all about Helvee’s incredible strength, unwavering persistence, and gorgeous figure.

Soon enough, Kruck introduced himself to Helvee, and the two spent the night together, until the fire turned to embers and then to ash.

Under the moonlight, as Kruck walked Helvee back to her hut, Helvee let the butterflies building in her stomach go. She told him she was ready for the embarrassment, asked him where his snickering friends were hiding, and admitted she fell into this trap far too easily.

Kruck answered with a puzzled look. In a husky, warm voice, he told her, “I don’t see a half-orc. I don’t see a half-human. I don’t see a mistake or a monster. I see Helvee, a woman, a brave, beautiful woman in heart and soul. I see the one I wish to spend the rest of my life with, if she’ll have me.”

Seeing the honesty in his eyes, she let herself fall into the depths of love. Months later, the two promised their lives to one another, though with disdain from Kruck’s family, they had the blessing of Helvee’s father. As a gift for their union, Helvee’s father gifted Kruck a battleaxe and Helvee a new warhammer. On the warhammer, he tied with string an owlbear claw which he had gifted to her mother when they married in a human village. Helvee vowed to keep the claw and the warhammer on her at all times, no matter what.

The second surprise, just near the end of the winter season, came unexpectedly. Her father died. It is the only other time in Helvee’s life that she cried so openly and so terribly. However, like her father, she grew to be strong, and so the tears stopped to flow by the next day.

A few years later, Helvee and Kruck were blessed with a child. They had a baby girl named Gertie. In a hut on the outskirts of the tribe, the three lived a memorable life for a couple of years…

Until the Nightbone Tribe went to war. As an orc of the tribe, Kruck left to fight in the war. Helvee spent her days alone, caring for Gertie, waiting for Kruck to return home, but before he could, yet another tragedy came to the tribe.

The tribe was hit with a terrible plague. It was a ruthless illness that preyed on the weak, including Gertie.

Helvee took Gertie to the healers, but after several weeks, they could not save her. Gertie passed away.

A tar-like darkness bled into Helvee’s heart as she held her lifeless child in her arms, and it grew darker still as she looked around the healer’s hut to see many other orc children recovering. Her human features throbbed in pain as she came to a conclusion she could not forgive.

In her eyes, these orcs did not save her half-orc child intentionally. They let her die. They murdered her, just for being part human.

Enraged with boiling blood, she lost control of herself. A beast born from rage, she exploded, roaring at the orcs. Her vision turned blurry as her rage fueled her to destroy the hut and burn it down, killing all those inside.

Captured by tribal warriors, she was presented to the chieftain for her punishment. However, Ghorza ran to her defense, using her good reputation to save her friend from death and securing her the lesser of two evils. Exile.

The Nightbone Tribe declared Helvee as an exiled orc of the tribe and branded her as “The Mad Matriarch” with a symbol on her back, so other orc tribes can know her crime.

Before leaving for good, she said her farewells to Ghorza, her good friend. Ghorza informed her, reluctantly, that she heard word from her own life mate that Kruck had died in a raid just a few days ago. What little life there was left inside Helvee was now ripped out of her chest. Taking nothing with her except for her warhammer and her owlbear claw, Helvee left the tribe behind.

She now travels the land with no desire of settling. Born an outcast, Helvee wanders endless paths prepared to die an outcast.

#dungeonsanddragons #DnD #DnDcharacter #writer #writercommunity #amwritingfantasy #writingcommunity #DanielaSylmae #WritersDesk


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