This is the results of a discussion I had on Discord over Nobanion a few months ago. It's just a way to explain his existence beyond being a blatant rip-off of C.S. Lewis's Aslan. Consider it non-cannon on this server unless the staff decides to adopt it. Feel free to share it if you play on other F.R. based servers or even use it in your own P&P campaigns.
In a distant world unknown, there dwelled a majestic lion. Though not the mightiest lion, his strength was revered far and wide. But greater powers had a different plan for that realm. As calamity struck and rent the world asunder, the lion heard a mystical call whispering in his ears. Without hesitation, he heeded its melody and embarked on a journey into the heart of the chaos.
The ground beneath his paws shattered, and he plunged into the abyss, darkness engulfing his senses. The grip of death seemed inevitable, until the stygian gloom transformed into a soft twilight, unveiling a celestial tapestry of stars and wonders. Countless enigmatic spectacles unfolded before his eyes, mysteries beyond his comprehension. Direction lost its meaning, for he knew not if he ascended or descended nor moved left or right. All he felt was an irresistible force pulling him ever forward.
In an instant, his noble brow emerged from a pool, and he found himself standing in a profoundly serene forest. Though he emerged from the water, not a single droplet clung to his magnificent form. His keen eyes surveyed this newfound realm, a mixture of bewilderment and curiosity but without fear in his gaze. Tilting his head, he inhaled the air, drawing in a deep breath of its unfamiliar yet tantalizing sweetness.
Above, concealed amidst the leaves, elven eyes kept a watchful vigil over the woodland, unbeknownst to the beast below. For they were the guardians of the forest in those days, entrusted with its protection. They remained still, for the lion before them was a marvel to behold. They knew that those who ventured into the pools never returned, but never had they witnessed a creature emerge from the depths, not in all the centuries of their existence. And a single glance revealed that this was no ordinary lion, for its grand stature seemed to grow even more magnificent.
Yet, the elves sensed a subtle ebbing of their own magic as the great beast drew it in through its nostrils. This both intrigued and unsettled them. Some readied their bows, but could not bring themselves to release the arrows, for they sensed neither malevolence or threat from the creature. In an instant, its piercing gaze met theirs, now somehow aware of their presence. The beast made no growl or roar, but continued to fix its star-like eyes, wreathed in a fiery mane, upon them. In a wondrous turn that left them awestruck, it's mighty jaws began to move. Not to bare its teeth or snarl, but to emit a gentle whisper of a tongue unknown even to elves. Its speech was brief, yet potent, and carried a sweet resonance that defied familiarity. But amidst the enigmatic sounds, there was one utterance that persisted, a sound that imprinted itself deep within their minds: Aslan.
The beast closed its maw and patiently awaited a response with its message delivered, its unwavering gaze fixed upon the elves. But in their astonishment, no words were spoken in return. Without hesitation, the lion turned away and gracefully departed the forest, disappearing amidst the foliage. The elves hastened to return to their people, eager to recount the encounter they had witnessed. They spoke of the lion that possessed a tongue unknown, the resounding "Aslan" sound, and the divine fiery mane.
Henceforth, the noble lion embarked upon a sojourn through the realms, spanning over a century. Though his voice remained silent during this epoch, his eyes observed, his ears listened, and his mind absorbed wisdom. He hunted solely when hunger gnawed at his being, never indulging in excess, for none of his kills went to waste. Animals of all sizes found themselves irresistibly drawn to him, for even the tiniest that approached in good faith, found solace in his presence.
The Lion King, as he came to be called, sought respite within the depths of the Forest of Gulthmere, then claimed it as his sacred abode. Over the passing years, he banished much of the malevolence that plagued the lands beneath the canopy. These acts of valor granted the goodly folk of the sylvan and fey the freedom to dwell without trepidation, for he entreated with them in familiarity. And finally, the lion, now ready, spoke in tongues comprehensible to others. When asked of his identity, he replied with dignity, "I am Nobanion."
