Stats Weedreth Parlon III

**Stats Weedreth Parlon the III** grew up amongst the Kaskii, a close-knit community of shamanistic gnomes.

Despite his upbringing instilling a religious devotion to light, life, and nature, he was naturally inquisitive about the other half of life which his community seemed largely naive to. Darkness and night become a subject of study for him, and through speaking with the much longer-lived gnomes of the group he studied sickness and disease, and learned to perform prayers and funeral rites in respect of the dead.

When the time came for him to complete his education and become a fully-fledged Shaman, he found himself unable to commit to the singular line of thinking, and instead retreated further into private study. Life and death have always kept a tentative balance. Two sides of the same coin, and like that coin, it is a circle. Life leads to death, and with death, new life is born. An endless cycle of renewal. The shamans often saw themselves as protectors of that balance. Keeping the dead from rising by unnatural means, stopping the unnecessary slaughter wildlife. Necromancers, poachers, and any who would harm that tentative balance had these shaman to worry about when passing through their territory.

The vineyards of Parlon have always been kept and maintained by various circles of druidic magicks, and as the antithesis, corruption and darkness often encroached upon the light. The shaman defended their ancestral homeland with a fervor. Creatures born of the woods, gnomes, sylphs, and wildlife alike, working in tandem to turn back the dark tide.

Stats was always very interested in the cities, and the people who ventured throughout the territory. But he also knew that most "civilized" races tended to destroy the nature that he loved. That didn't stop him from sneaking into the nearby town of Ashfallow during a grand festival. He had a merry time, playing with children, and getting them to play pranks on the adult folk.

Pranks have always been a part of Stats' life, even as a young child he found himself quite bored at times. The only way he could pass the time was to plan some mischevious deed. Never with the idea to hurt anyone, it was always meant in good fun. He spent many years mastering the craft of pranks and deceitfulness. Then one day it all stopped.

One night as Stats was setting up a funny prank on his best friend Hustok, he noticed a shimmering light in the distance. At first he thought it was a glowbird just passing by, but as he noticed the light was much more intense than that of a glowbird. He diverted his attention from his prank and followed the light deeper into the vineyards. After about 10 minutes of folowing the strange light, he was lead to the outside of a rockslide. Most of the rocks were too large to move but he noticed that there was a gnome sized hole in one. He poked his head inside the cluster of rocks and noticed that the light he was following had nestled within. Dedicated to finding out what this strange eminence was, he crawled down into the hole. Stats got close enough to touch the light. He did so. In a blinding flash of light his vision blurred. He found himself falling unconcious and that was the last thing he remembered.

Time went by and for some unknown reason Stats finally awoke. His head ringing and confused on what had happened. He managed to crawl out of the pocket of dirt from which he lay and stepped outside. Everything was different. The vineyards he knew were no longer there, now he was on the outskirts of a sprawling town filled with people, labor animals, and large buildings, etc. He walked around trying to understand where he was and what had happened. He asked around for directions to get back to his vineyard but nobody knew what he was talking about. There hadn't been any vineyards or farmable land in that area for generations. Lost, confused, disoriented Stats begins his journey trying to figure out what happened to him and where his family and friends are.

Fortunately Stats still has a few bottles left of his family's wine

Fighting in Nightstone against a group of sieging Orcs, stats was killed, and his spirit has temporarily embodied the form of a flying cat or Tressym.