Magdaline "Mags" Whetfield

Level 4 Sorceror Bard Pirate


As it stands today, Magdaline stands near six feet tall with long brown hair that falls nearly to the small of her back. She wears her hair down to cover her mutilated ears and the heavy scars around her face, though the thick scars that run through her eyes are obvious to anyone that stops to look at the girl for longer than a moment. Her eyes flash a stormy blue grey, though they lack pupils’ marking her heritage as eladrin, and not merely elven as she would likely tell you. Faint scars crisscross her arms, torso, hips and legs snaking the markings of lightning throughout her body. Another scar that faintly resembles a stag mars her left upper arm, though if you were close enough to make it out, Mags would likely have knifed you by then. She dresses in rough white blouses and loose breeches, with a wide leather belt and high leather boots made more for hard work days out on the docks than anything else. Her skin is a dark tan from much exposure to the sun and her attitude is nearly always that of merriment, as she has a sea shanty or song on her lips for nearly every occasion. She carries her father’s sword and long knife at her belt and wears numerous silver baubles as decorations.


Magdaline “Mags” Whetfield was born Jelenneth Naviara of the House Procella in 47 BOV to a pair of eladrin nobility. In a vision of what was to come, the newborn was secreted away to a remote part of the Dreaming, where the child was kept in stasis with fey magics by enchanting the child into a gemstone, which was entrusted to an enclave under the dominion of the fey titan “Father of Thunder”. In 437 AOV, an adventuring party traveling through the idyllic lands of Elfavair found a pocket of the land where the Dreaming and the mortal world comingled, and they found the fey enclave had been mostly deserted. In looting the enclave of its treasures, the adventurers came across the moonstone that born the child’s name and birthdate as well as an eladrin inscription upon it within the treasure trove. Afterwards, the party accidentally awoke the slumbering guardians of the enclave and was chased out of the realm, barely escaping with their lives.

Parmida “Thunderfist” Whetfield, the party’s expert in the arcane, claimed the gemstone as part of his share of the treasure and retired back to Flint to live out his days with his wife and two sons, Gheorge and Kelvim. His return was met with joy and happiness, as his sons were nearing the age where they would find their own way in life and begin their own families. Kelvim was a promising alchemist, whose wares and knowledge was often called upon at the Academy to fulfill various needs therein, and Gheorge was the near opposite of his brother, excelling in naval tactics and warfare. Both enrolled at the Academy in Flint, and were to take part in the Yerasol Conflict at the end of their tenure there. Kelvim was killed on his first mission, his ship hit by a rogue wave and sunk in the rocky shores of one of the more remote isles in the archipelago, while Gheorge met his wife, Callsi, aboard the ship he would ultimately captain, as the apprentice skyseer that accompanied the military vessels. As a wedding gift, Gheorge gave his wife the gemstone that his father had given him, a large moonstone with eladrin carvings upon it. Callsi had repeated visions that haunted her many nights throughout their first year as husband and wife, and nothing would abate them. She turned to the enclave of druids that she had trained with in her youth to attempt to interpret the visions that danced around the edges of her consciousness and was rewarded with an answer from an elder elven druid that graced the cabal, as he was able to read the inscription and divine the nature of this strange magic. Upon conducting the ritual required to remove the magics from the stone, the druid grove was lanced with a powerful localized lightning storm that erupted within the confines of the ritual circle, that when the magics subsided, left a squalling eladrin girl on the blackened ground in a flash of blinding lighting. The druids, understanding the significance of the child, as well as the telltale marks that the storm had left upon her, agreed to let Callsi raise the babe in secret, but only if she would submit to allowing the druids to help disguise the girl. Without thought, Callsi agreed.

The druidic circle took the babe from her surrogate mother and held her in a secret place for ten days, conducting primal rites and rituals over the child. Callsi could do nothing more but weep and wait, hoping that she would not be betrayed by the people she had called mentors. Her trust was not entirely broken, though when the girl was returned to Callsi, it was done so in a manner in which the woman did not see anyone, nor was she told anything – she merely turned around one moment to find a small bundle at her feet, the small girl wrapped in a blanket woven of hawthorn and golden thread. Much to Callsi’s surprise, the girl’s ears had been mutilated; the wee pointed tips cut off and rounded brutally – perhaps with teeth or something equally barbaric. The girls bore thick scabs of slashes across her eyes and face, which nearly had taken out her eyes, but did more to conceal the stormy azure of the orbs and take away from the cherubic slant of the child’s face. And the girl bore fresh burn markings across her entire body, the raw flesh appearing abraded and raw against the once alabaster white of the infant’s skin. The girl was whole, however, and did not appear to notice the wounds she bore or show any signs of illness at the causation of her mutilation.

Still, Callsi could not believe what had happened to the child. In anger she swore off the cabal, and threatened their treatment of her adopted child with curses and slander, renouncing her druidic gifts then and there. Returning to Flint, Gheorge and Callsi spent several years working to provide for their daughter, who took quickly to singing and dancing, finding merriment in all of the hustle and bustle of the busy and exciting life to be found on the burgeoning town’s waterfront. However, at the start of the Third Yerasol War, Gheorge was taken back into the navy, leading his ship to the forefront of the conflict. Callsi refused to stay behind, and with no other choice in the matter, brought their daughter along with them. Their daughter grew up on the deck of a warship, learning all about the sea and its wonders, while also learning how to pilot the ship, mend rigging and sails, hide from pirates and enemy boarding parties and the like.

Mags showed an affinity for the water at an early age, taking to the sea and if she were born to do so. She would spend her days walking the rigging and spars, clinging to the sails and charting the Yerasol Archipelago. Though highly aberrant, the girl was treated like a good luck charm, with the crew only sailing when the girl was aboard and finding succor in her innocence. While her husband and the crew would not show signs of it, Callsi watched with concealed horror each time it would storm, as the girl would often sneak above decks to be pelted by the rain and wind. The stronger the storm, the more calm the child would be, finding peace among the raucous weather and cacophony on high.

Gheorge’s young family would stay at sea through the end of the third war and into the start of the fourth, using the time between to sail the archipelago and reap the bounty of mapping the isles therein. Though Magdaline did not realize it, Gheorge and Callsi recognized the eladrin features of their daughter through the scars as she got older, and they did their best to isolate the girl from the outside world during this time to prevent unwanted interest from developing around her. In those years, Magdaline came into adulthood, finding the grace and power of her heritage as well as harnessing the storm that waged in her soul that seemed to yearn for release all these years. Magdaline found her affinity for the arcane arts, specifically that the power of the storm would answer her call if she wanted it badly enough. The Whetfields sailed five more missions in the Fourth Yerasol before Gheorge took a pistol ball to his back, paralyzing him from the waist down in 488 AOV. He was honorably discharged from the navy and retired with his wife and child to Flint, where they still live today.

Magdaline worked odd jobs at the waterfront, serving in taverns and working as a day laborer while reveling in the freedom that the area afforded. However, when one of her friends was gunned down in an alleyway, she was re-introduced to a sailor, Leland, that had sailed with her father’s ship and now worked for the Royal Homeland Constabulary in an effort the secure the nation of Risur. She worked in concert with Leland to help solve her friends murder, and found an appreciation for the sleuthing work that the RHC often employed – seeing it as a challenge that was worthy of her keen intellect and further allowed her to use her authority to keep her home – the Flint waterfront – free from foreign threats to the citizens therein. Though working for the RHC on a steady basis, Magdaline often finds time to work in the tavern, loading and unloading freight at the docks and playing music for those that toil endlessly on the waterfront in an effort to further add to the joys of her home.

Magdaline "Mags" Whetfield

Zeitgeist - The Gears of Revolution oak