In honour of the paladin changing his race/oath and identity without changing his character, I wrote a poem. Anyhow, it involved the gods (Bahamat giving him to Ehlonna), the Egg, and the wild magic of the Prime human sorcerer. The world itself changed to accommodate the fact that most people don’t remember the dragonborn guy at all – except for those that touched the egg, he was always a half-elf (and even for them, even for the half-elf himself, the dragonborn is hard to remember, except in dreams and daydreams).
The paladin’s husband had come with a plan
to save their son’s life, for a righteous young man
he was destined to be, could he only survive,
Yet dead was he before he was alive.
How to thwart destiny? The gods knew a way,
but the price of such changes was heavy to pay,
No more would the paladin be known by his son
Or his husband or indeed by almost anyone.
He would give up his family, become someone new.
He agreed, for he felt it the right thing to do.
“No matter what changes are made to me,
Yet always a paladin I will be.”
And like thread through a needle his life was re-threaded;
the world changed around him; a new path was treaded.
No more dragonborn, a half-elf was he,
and ever was so, as all could see.
New parents, memories, goddess and name,
save for a few who felt all the same,
that the previous man was more like a dream
and the man before them was a part of their team.
This magic attracted the attention of a Night Hag, who wanted the heart of the Prime Human for her own purposes. The party dealt with her, but it was a near thing. Then they nearly killed their sorcerer who had turned into a sheep (he got beeeeeeetterrrrrrrrr). Then they met some giant elk and talking to them via magic were warned off of a giant in the area. Then they fought some orcs and an orog, but this attracted the attention of the giant. They ran away and the giant ate the dead bodies instead of pursuing the party.