Ambrosia Lennald

Half-elf Paladin of Grimjax


Past Important events:
Tommy’s death and her guilt.

Aww yiss vengeance

Family, Friends, and Enemies:
Daughter of Thomas and Alarissa Lennald.
Older sister to Rathalar Lennald.
Friend: Tommy the dairy farmer’s son (deceased).
Enemy: The stranger (deceased)
Mentors: Clerics of Grimjax in Leafway, Thomas Lennald
It’s complicated with Okonkwo of Bear Claw Island.

Greatsword (Gouge)


“Upon consumption, this heavenly elixir, brewed from holy water and blessed herbs, grants a +2 sacred bonus on saving throws against negative energy, energy drain, and death effects for 1 hour, including saves to remove negative levels. Ambrosia affects undead and evil outsiders as holy water.”

Ambrosia Lennald was raised in Leafway, occasionally traveling within Veilshare with her father for trade. Their time together strengthened their bond, and she delighted in listening to his tales of adventure. Inspired by her father’s stories, she found it difficult to focus on more serious day-to-day tedium. She was a charismatic, carefree child who preferred games and rough-housing to learning to cook and sew. She had many friends, and made friends easily. Tragically, one of Amber’s closest friends, the son of the local dairy farmer, was slain before her very eyes in the fall of her 12th year.

They had walked along the road outside of town, crunching the red leaves of the late autumn oaks under their feet, until they reached the spot Tommy had told her about. It was an abandoned barn— now more of a lean-to—with three standing stone walls, and one that had partially collapsed. Half of the roof had caved in above the wooden loft, and when Amber stepped across the crumbling threshold, she found herself in a small encampment. The occupant was nowhere to be found, so she and Tommy set about investigating the scene. Tommy began poking through the bottles and bags strewn across the rotting hay of the floor. Amber meanwhile clambered up to the loft above and peeked out of the broken opening in the sagging roof. It wasn’t a spectacular view—the barn was scarcely as tall as the surrounding trees, but she had little time to look before a sharp voice barked out from below.

“You thieving shit!”

Tommy stood frozen below, holding a small clay cup and gaping at the ragged, bearded stranger who had appeared in the wall opening. Amber held her breath and crouched down silently into the moldy hay. Her hand brushed against a rusted hay hook.The stranger rushed towards Tommy and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. Tommy cried out and fell back against the wall. Amber gripped the handle of the hook, still not daring to breathe.The stranger’s knife flashed from his belt and buried itself in Tommy’s belly. He gasped and his eyes searched the barn, desperate. The knife plunged again, this time into his throat. Tommy gurgled sickeningly as he crumpled onto the hay, the blood gushing down his front.

Still in the loft, Amber gripped the hay hook with white-knuckled hands. She stared wide-eyed at Tommy’s crumpled body.The stranger began hurriedly gathering his things—a cooking pot, a bedroll, the clay cup. Amber tried to stand, to raise her arm, and strike to avenge her friend, but she could not move. Only after the stranger had gone could she breathe again, and only after she could breathe again did she release her iron grip on the rusted hook. She climbed down from the loft, and stumbled, shocked, out of the barn. She turned back to look at Tommy, slumped and lifeless, before fear gripped her and she spun and ran as fast as fear could carry her back to town.

After this, Ambrosia felt an overwhelming sadness and sense of guilt for her friend’s death. Tommy’s murderer was eventually caught, tried, and executed by worshippers of Grimjax. She found in Grimjax a just answer to the cruelty she had witnessed. Her mother’s gentle Orosi could not heal the dead, but Grimjax had the power to restore order to the chaos carved by the stranger’s knife. When she was indoctrinated as a holy paladin of Grimjax, she took for her scales the head of a cow and a curved hay hook, balancing her guilt of inaction with her vow to never again lie silent.

Ambrosia Lennald

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