Ea Diablus

THE SELF-RELIANT SCHOLAR
"The air is always buttery at the end of the week.""Whenever sunlight— or moonlight —drifts through the windows, between the lacy accent curtains, before the shop opens, the flour mills through the air like fireflies. The smell stays— in the wood, and the flooring, and even in their small back yard. ""It filters all the way down past the cellar room where ingredients are preserved, and up into the attic where the remnants of tradition remain cobbled up. The scent reaches her, and brings a bare smile— but suddenly it's too thick. Choking even. A string is plucked to hard and break— twang accenting the banging doorway. ""She sits up, hands still holding a femur reverently, but the older woman now in the room— her mother, whom is much too vibrant with her light steps, quick eyes assessing and finding place for a platter of warm cookies —and has nary a second to ask for privacy. There is a kiss to the forehead, and a look begging for a promise— 'Remember to help us with the wintercrest rush next week!' —and is gone again. ""A bony set of feet are swatted away from the fresh cinnamon biscuits, and their owner floats up— guitar restrung, and a twitchy tune at the ready, 'Shame, shame, all that brain wasting away.'""A being that rarely rests.""Among a home that seems to normal.""Housing a heart and mind too eager to know. ""To learn— be it at a growing cost?""This is Ea."

CHILD OF THE CITY, EAGER MIND OPEN TO KNOWLEDGE
The direct, often rash, but also noble Ea is a tiefling raised in the great city of Waterdeep. Haunted by an accursed guide, the Pickled Punk, from a young age, she is deeply entrenched in the study of necromancy and the after-life. A single child raised by parents with very different ideas on practical careers, Ea is often hard to connect to and read. One of her current goals is to develop a series of works on the “1,001 Uses of Bones”.

Though occasionally flippant about the process of death and undead reanimation, there are lines that she does not cross– as she understands that life as a concept is valuable, and to be respected. To her it is only in death, once the soul has left, that whatever body remains behind becomes a tool.

The half-ethereal, half-corporeal ghost that haunts her isn’t as respectful of this notion. She soon found herself beset by goblins and hobgoblins upon her return to the town of Secomber– with a personal mission completed earlier in the day –and then trapped in another realm along with her new companions.

Following a near brush with death, anda in a moment of rashness, Ea fled the battlefield following an encounter with a group of Fire Giants near the edge of the Kryptgarden forest.