Wiki Category: Human Characters - Active

PLAYER NAME: Hannah Anderson
CHARACTER NAME: Aurelia
GENDER: Female
AGE: 36
RACE: Human
CLASS: Rogue
HAIR: Brown
EYES: Hazel
OCCUPATION: Barkeep
BIRTHPLACE: Kingdom of Aldoria
APPEARANCE: Sturdy and practical, Aurelia prefers comfort over fashion and usually wears a white apron
over any outfit.

BIO:

Aurelia was born in 235 in the Kingdom of Aldoria. Born to a family of bakers, her life was a peaceful one, learning the trade of baker. In 253 when she turned 18, Aldoria was overrun, and her father was lost. Aurelia and her mother Isabella managed to escape early to the colony of New Aldoria, though not without consequences. Isabella became very Ill soon after reaching their new home and Aurelia started apprenticing at a local tavern, run by a greedy man who stole her tips, and allowed far more poking and prodding by patrons than she was comfortable with, which Aurelia put up with having made a deal with the owner that she would take over the Tavern in the coming years. The money she made barely kept a roof over their heads and wasn’t enough to heal her mother. When her mother died in 258, the owner of the tavern offered to take Aurelia in, only to have her watch his children when she wasn’t working. The last straw was when the owner took on a young male apprentice in 260 and she overheard him making the same deal with him that she had been given.
With no ties or loyalty left to the colony of New Aldoria Aurelia (now 25) set out to find somewhere where people say what the mean and mean what they say. Where an honest day’s work makes you a living wage, no strings attached. While traveling, she ran into Belterra, an enterprising 12-year-old ulven in 262. Unwilling to let the child travel alone, and pleased with the blunt honesty of her youth, Aurelia chose to travel with her until they
both found somewhere they could settle down for good.

PERSONALITY:
Aurelia doesn’t give her trust easily. Life has taught her that words mean nothing without action to back them up. People are usually only looking out for themselves and finding someone who is
honest and kind is something to hold on to. Once her trust is earned, it is absolute and unquestioning, though only 2 people now hold that honor. Being a barmaid that long has taught her to smile no matter what and to appear friendly and welcoming, no matter how she feels personally. Her experiences with harassment make her fiercely protective of those around her. Her tavern may entertain escorts, but she runs it with a friendly face, a no-nonsense attitude and immediate and direct expulsion of any patron that looks to exploit her and hers. Treat her and hers right and we won’t have a problem.

PLAYER NAME: Sarah Novy

CHARACTER NAME: Audreanna Delamore

GENDER: Female

PRONOUNS: She/her

CLASS: Rogue

AGE: 35

RACE: Human

HAIR: Brown

EYES: Brown.

OCCUPATION: Herbologest. Member of the Guardians of the wall

TRAITS: Skilled in living off the land. Self sufficient in wilderness survival, hunting, herbology Ext….

BIRTHPLACE: unknown, possible Vandergon Area descent.

APPEARANCE: I appear very forest savvy. I travel light and have been known to keep herbs and furs on me from time to time. Never seen far from my bow.

RELATIONSHIPS: the Guardians of the wall.

RUMORS: Prefers to be in the wild then in villages and towns.

BIO:

My story begins on the old continent. As far as I can remember I was an orphan. I have no memories of my birth parents. When I think back as early as I can, I just remember being lost or alone. I was adopted several times and moved from family to family but I never felt like I fit in and would oftentimes be sent away or abandoned. I spent most of my childhood in this every changing state and it left me with a longing to have a real family. Years would go by and eventually I found myself under the care of Haymitch, an old hermit who lived deep in the woods. He was the first person in my life that made me feel like I wasn’t completely alone. He was a strange old man and I found him odd at most times but when it came to nature he was very dedicated. He taught me how to live off the land and what I could and could not eat. The dangers of certain plants and how to avoid them came in handy a lot throughout life and I will always cherish the long summer days we had together learning all the different varieties of plants and how to properly harvest them. I was devastated when he passed away, just another cruel trick of fate to play on me.

A few more years would pass as I traveled from home to home, lost again in the everchanging hustle and bustle of life. I would next find a home I would really consider to call a home when I was taken in by Ellieandrin, an ex Vandergon marksman. She was a fierce warrior and was expertly trained with a bow. She was stern and unlike Haymitch who was very carefree, lived by a code and forced discipline and order into my life. I learned quickly under her tutelage and soon became proficient with the bow as well. I would use my training to hunt and defend the land from dangerous animals. Though harsh and stern, Elle was also kind and thoughtful in her own way and was the closest thing I would come to having a mother figure. I lived with her until the undead took the old continent from us and forced us from the land. I lost Elle in our escape and for all I know she didn’t make it. I was forced to board a ship and found myself arriving on a strange new land.

I took the training I had gained and left civilization behind. I took to the forests of Maudrun and made them my home. I lived off the land and kept to myself. It was a peaceful life but I still felt like I was missing something. I lived this way for years until one fateful day while I was hunting, a group of Mordok found me. I was surrounded and outnumbered, I had finally become the prey. I fled but they were quicker and it wasn’t long till they were within striking distance. I burst from a thick patch of woods and ran straight into a wall. I was dazed for a moment and that’s when the wall moved and it wasn’t a wall at all but a massive shield held by a tall man in full armor. He had friends with him and they immediately formed a wall of shields between myself and the Mordok pursuers. I quickly recovered and with a wall to defend me I let loose my arrows and the Mordok were dispatched. I thanked the strangers who had helped me and they introduced themselves as Stanley, Zenteagan, and Aladrin, Guardians of the Wall. We talked for a short while and they quickly gleaned that I was alone and had no real home or family. They offered a solution. Come back with them to their home of Shieldhaven. I had never heard of the place but they said it had walls and I would be safe there. I didn’t feel like I needed their help to feel safe but they were kind and a place to call home seemed like an intriguing idea. I took them up on their offer and soon found myself calling Sheildhaven my home. I quickly got to know the Guardians and it wasn’t long until I was a full fledged member. I was finally home and with people I could call family.

PLAYER NAME: Noah Gudenschwager
CHARACTER NAME: Conrad Gall
GENDER: Male
RACE: Human
CLASS: Cleric
AGE: Mid 20s
HAIR: Dark brown
EYES: Green
OCCUPATION: Traveling Merchant
RELATIONSHIPS: The Golden Hand, Imrick Oakenbrow, Rexton Atherton
NOTABLE TRAITS: Gold paint on various parts of his body, changes from time to time.

BIO:
“I don’t remember much of Faedrun, especially before everything came crashing down,” Conrad said to Syms. Conrad grew up on the roads of Aldoria in a Sojourner Caravan that at the time of his birth was
desperately trying to gain passage to Mardrun. One night, upon being denied entrance to a coastal city in Aldoria the undead attacked the caravan outside the city and killed most of the Sojourners before the forces from the city organized and repelled the attackers. During the fight, many Sojourners, including Conrad and his mother, made it inside the city’s walls and blended in with other refugees. Days later Conrad and his mother made it onto a colony ship headed to Mardrun.

The travels to Faedrun are some of Conrad’s earliest memories. He remembers the crying of the other passengers, as many of them lost everything. Conrad’s mother kept telling him, “It’s a good thing we were nomads, makes it easier to put everything behind us,” As much as Conrad’s mother talked about leaving everything behind, she would also regale stories of her travels across Faedrun, talking in a
hushed voice whenever someone would walk past as if trying to keep a secret. Other than the stories of her travels Conrad’s mother hardly interacted with him. Being stuck on a small boat with nothing but
strangers Conrad kept to himself.

The colony ship eventually landed in the City State of Newhope where, to the surprise of Conrad and his mother, there was a group of Sojourners that was gathering outside the city getting ready for a caravan across Mardrun. It was here that Conrad got his first true taste of Sojourner culture, the songs,
and dances that Conrad should have been taught at a much younger age. Due to his disconnection from the Sojourners, Conrad struggled to learn the songs, dances, and dueling practices that kids half his age were well versed in. Conrad also disagreed with how the Sojourners stayed away from the affairs of the other peoples of Mardrun. Conrad remembers the cries of the people on the boat, the people who lost everything, and now to see his people ignoring the others and going on about their lives like nothing
happened? After years of following his new Sojourner ‘family,’ Conrad could not ignore the pleas of the cities they passed any longer, a need to help the people around him had been brewing in him for years, so one day Conrad left the caravan as it approached Davin’s Hold after it had been retaken from the bandits. Here Conrad stayed as a humble merchant, never making much as he was prone to undercharging those in desperate need, or even in some cases giving away his goods for free. Here, Conrad met with two former members of the Order of Arnath, Imrick and Rexton, who share his idea of
helping those in need in whatever way possible.

Player Name: Stuart Ilhe
Character Name: Eckhart Blackstone

Bio:

Born in 231 as the eldest son to a lesser noble family in western Vandregon, Eckhart’s fate was to become a knight. Trained in war at an early age he always felt a deeper call to the spiritual despite his father’s wishes. He eventually left home joining the Order of the Angel, leaving his two younger brothers Rhinehart and Rickart to continue the family’s knightly tradition.

He would not see his family again until 254. In the interim, he, like most of Faedrun, contributed to the war effort. In his case by the use of divine magic as well as his knowledge of first aid to act as a field medic.

Later on in the year 254 as he was stationed in one of the last Vandregon coastal cities to not have fallen, he saw Rhinehart as well as his father for the first time in years (Rickart having left for Mardrun a few years before). His father took him aside and ordered him to drug Rhinehart and get him on the boat leaving for Faedrun. If he didn’t, Rhinehart would surely die fighting by his father’s side. Eckhart did this and by doing so earned the ire of his brother.

They parted ways after arriving on Mardrun and after wandering for a few years settled down in the rural areas around the city of Newhope serving as a priest to the local farmers and even constructing a small shrine to the Vandregonian Saints with an emphasis on the Angel. This changed earlier this year when his village was attacked by bandits and his shrine burnt down. This caused him to flee to stay with friends in Newhope where he also recovered from wounds he sustained during his village’s destruction.

He is now a wanderer once again and is traveling to land acting as a priest to any who need it.

PLAYER NAME: Ethan Novy
CHARACTER NAME: Stanley Lorden
GENDER: Male
PRONOUNS: He/him
CLASS: Warrior
AGE: 32
RACE: Human
HAIR: Brown
EYES: Hazel
OCCUPATION: Blacksmith
BIRTHPLACE: Aldoria
RELATIONSHIPS: Friends with Zenteagan Wincress, Aladrin Greywood, Connor Ashmane.
RUMORS: Only known rumor is that he is known as the wall. Why is uncertain.

BIO:
Stanley Lorden was just your average human man. His life was plain and boring and that’s the way Stan liked it. He grew up in a small farm that was completely average and had a rather average dog named Sir Barksalot. Nothing ever happened at the farm. He had average parents who lived average lives. Life for Stan would remain average for many years until he had to leave his home due to his family not paying their “Royal Governance of Aldoria” taxes. His family then moved to a new farm and life continued to be properly average.

His average life was once again turned upside down when the undead overran his farm. He might have tried to save his parents if he hadn’t been just an average man. Average people don’t stay and fight like heroes when the undead pour through Aldorian lands and kill everyone in their way.

Instead, he fled like most to another land. That is where Stanley would begin his new life that was more or less entirely average. He took up blacksmithing as it seemed to him to be a boring, quiet, and average job. However as hard as he tried, he couldn’t help but make above average work. It would seem Stanley was a gifted blacksmith. Though it bugged him greatly to be more than just your average man, he continued his new life fairly uneventfully until the day he crafted “Glendale”. Glendale was a massive shield and was anything but average. Stanley would stare at the shield for days wondering how he had crafted such an above average thing.

After admiring the shield for 2 years, 3 months, 4 days and 2.7 hours…. Stan would pick up the shield. Stanley from that moment would never be average ever again. He would craft a set of armor to match his shield and leave his average life behind. He would spend the next few years using his shield to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. Stan had never felt so alive than when he and Glendale would save an innocent life from horrible threat. People started to call him The Wall. For his shield was large and he would use it to form a wall between his foes and his friends. A wall that would never be brought down.

One not so average night Stan would stumble upon a group of bandits attacking a group of 3 lone travelers. Stan told the bandits to flee or face judgement. They attacked him but to no avail. Stan was an unmoving wall of sheer power and defense. They couldn’t land a single blow. Stan would wait until they were tired and then go on the offensive and defeat the evil doers.

The 3 men Stan had saved thanked him and introduced themselves as Zen, Al, and Conner. They vowed to join him to try and repay their debts. Stan agreed to take them in but knew they could never repay him.

He was of course Stanley Lorden after all; an extremely above average man.

NAME: Maree Dunnidan
RACE: Human
CLASS/JOB: Divine Cleric
ORGANIZATION: Blades of Sol
AGE: 23
PLAYER NAME: Amber Kroening

BIO:

It’s another beautiful day in the countryside…

“Well, that’s not a very exciting way to start a journal entry, Maree,” she thought to herself. But it had been! The wind was blowing softly, some cows were gently lowing, and she was outside sat under a tree, the day the letter came.

Many days had started off like this, in the countryside of Lumaria where her family lived, albeit perhaps with slightly different weather. Maree had grown up here, an only child with a small group of friends, living a rather charmed life. Her parents were farmers with a small herd of cows that they milked and treated almost as pets otherwise. They were not particularly wealthy but had enough to get by and Maree was never wanting for anything. Sensing Maree’s desire to help others, and as new followers of Solar, they saw work as a cleric to be an honorable profession and so were more than happy to have Maree study the art of divine magic under the tutelage of some of the more advanced scholars and clerics of Lumaria. Maree took to her studies quickly, memorizing spells and understanding the concepts of how magic worked, and opening her heart to Solar in the process. She found joy in learning about the light of the Syndar god Solar, never quite feeling out of place as a human worshipping a Syndar deity.

Being born on Mardrun, Maree had heard stories of Faedrun, and the escape to the continent she now lived on. But her parents never dwelled on it much. If it came up in conversation, her mother would gracefully change the subject to whatever they were having for dinner, or what was selling at the market, and her father would become distracted by some chore that needed doing. And, although avoiding the subject of the escape from the old continent may be suspect to some…Maree never pushed deeper into the question. Sure, Faedrun came up time and again in her studies, and was a subject of several lectures, but if her parents didn’t want to discuss something that was apparently so horrific, and ultimately wasn’t affecting them now…she wasn’t going to make them. She had never seen an undead being. And yet, she was curious…

She started hearing about a group of people, joining together with the mission of reclaiming Faedrun. As she heard bits and pieces of conversation while travelling into the city for her studies, it became apparent this “group” was now forming into more of…a divine army, named for Solar. They called themselves the Blades of Sol. Their leader was Elzerith, a charismatic celestial Syndar, who was drawing followers who felt he was chosen by the gods, or that they were led to him by some portent of fate.

She saw some of them in the city one day. There was a tall, jovial looking man, armored and carrying a sword, and though he appeared carefree, Maree noticed he was always keeping watch. There was another man, a towering figure of regal presence. He wore shining plate armor, and a helmet, that when removed revealed flowing locks of long, light brown hair. Then there was Elzerith himself. Tall and golden, from head to toe, he seemed to glow radiantly in the sunlight. He wore a majestic white robe with detailed, gold trim. Maree almost tripped, watching him…

In later days, she continued to hear about other members of the Blades of Sol. There was Bero, who handled economical and logistical matters for the group. And Brenna, who served as an important advisor to Elzerith. She learned the man in shining plate was Voltaire, the leader of their military. And Ghent was the man who was always watching. The more their ranks grew, the more she heard about the Blades from folks around the city, and even extending out into the countryside where she lived. Her parents seemed to respect Elzerith, she learned this when it came up in dinner conversation. Never seeming to want to speak about Faedrun, they nevertheless admired his professed mission to go back to the old world and reclaim it from the legions of undead who had chased them out. Whether myth or fact, Maree heard tales of their pursuits, and the aid they brought to any area embroiled in conflict. They were helping defend towns from bandits, defeating Mordok, aiding outposts along the Shield…their adventures becoming more prolific and more dangerous, Maree had even heard that Voltaire had been stabbed so many times while serving as High Martial, that without the help of some serious divine magic, and a large amount of fortitude, he should have been dead by now. But fortunate for Maree, both the heroes and the stories of the Blades of Sol were very much alive, and a missive had gone out requesting aid on an expedition into the Dirge Swamp, which found its way into her hands on that beautiful day in the countryside.

It would herald one of the most pivotal decisions of her life, but she didn’t know that yet.

“They’re looking for clerics, Maree,” her father had said, dropping the letter between the open pages of her journal.

“Hmm? Who are? Wait..” She recognized the seal on the letter, and knew she wanted to say yes before she even read the words detailing what was needed, and yet something within her was still unsure. This would be the most dangerous expedition yet, the letter warned. Celestial Arragones and her research team had decided to work together with the Order of Arnath and send an expedition into the heart of the Dirge, to find a Hellenstone and search for clues as to why there is one in the center of the swamp. The Blades of Sol had an interest in the recovery of this stone and were joining the expedition. However, the swamp was infested with Mordok, who had a history of building idols to channel corruption magic. This was why those with the gift for Divine magic were specifically requested.

Maree felt her chest swell with purpose, and nervousness, as she realized if she answered this call, she would be serving alongside the valiant heroes she had come to admire so deeply. It was one thing to hear stories, quite another to take part. She thought about the last time she had met someone she admired…one of the most prestigious scholars of Divine magic and clerical discipline. He had asked her a question and she could barely get a word out of her mouth. If Voltaire so much as asked her name, would she be able to respond? If Ghent had need of her reserves of mana, would she be able to concentrate enough to complete the transfer? How would she react if Elzerith himself so much as looked in her direction?

Maybe she shouldn’t go, she thought, swallowing hard. She looked around. The countryside where she lived was free of cares, serene, and beautiful. The wind had picked up but a little. Her father was standing there, as even though a century of thought had passed through her mind, it had only been a few moments since she had received the letter from him. The sun was starting to go down.

“What do you think, Maree? You could serve Lumaria alongside the Blades of Sol. You could serve all the refugees of Faedrun, and maybe we’ll go back someday. You’ve prepared for this, sweetheart. Your mother and I would be so proud.”

As her mother joined them under the tree to discuss the news, equally proud (if not a bit emotional at the thought of her daughter growing up before her eyes), Maree knew what she had to do.

She answered that letter, responding to the call. And thus began her adventures amidst the ranks of the illustrious Blades of Sol.

PLAYED BY: Kallie Bain
CHARACTER NAME: Ara Vorimund
GENDER: Female
PRONOUNS: she/her
CLASS: Mage
RACE: Human
HAIR: Brown and wavy
EYES: Hazel
OCCUPATION: Beggar/wanderer, sells what she can get her hands on
BIRTHPLACE: New Aldoria
NOTABLE TRAITS: small scar on forehead
RELATIONSHIPS: A family she tries to forget, and a million friends she’s met along the way. She’s willing to strike up a conversation with just about anyone, and counts them as a friend after the first word.

Ara was huddled in the corner again, watching her father shout while her little sister pressed against her side. She couldn’t see her mother at all, but knew she was cowering on the floor just around the corner of the huge brick chimney against which Ara now leaned. This time it was because the washing hadn’t been done to his satisfaction, from what Ara gathered between the blows aimed at her mother. Most of them missed; he was almost blind with a combination of rage and alcohol. Still, the cries of her mother only feet away brought tears into Ara’s own eyes. She wiped them away before her sister could notice and bowed her head over the little girl, praying it would stop soon.

She sat at the table hours later with her mother and her older brother, Eron, listening to them argue in hushed tones about her father. They had this discussion after every incident, and neither ever gave way. Eron would start every night, saying he would fight back next time, and their mother would look up wearily from wrapping up a cut or sponging off a scrape and forbid him from saying a word against his father. It wasn’t their place, she insisted, to rebel against his wishes or his actions. The word “old-fashioned” would crop up soon, and probably something about standing up for oneself, and Ara would watch, and listen, and hope her mother would give in this time.

Everyone in the town agreed that their shop sold the best shoes in New Aldoria. Sometimes, when Ara got bored or lonely, she would sit and watch people come and go from their shop, hoping one of them would notice her. Her brother, working with the customers, certainly never did.

Caught again. The little girl rounded the corner just as Ara was trying to duck out of sight, and spotted her. The piercing voice shrieked Ara’s name once more and the pudgy hand grabbed hold of her sleeve, pulling her backwards. Ara insisted again that she did not want to participate in her little sister’s games, the inventions of a child of only seven years failing to amuse her much. The girl persisted, though. Endlessly.

She wandered out into the city, looking for excitement. That day, she saw a soldier on patrol, many people out buying food and cloth, and a rich woman inspecting a rare jewel a merchant showed her. Ara liked her walks through the market, looking at all the wares and all the people selling them. One large salesman looked interesting, so she started a conversation. He talked a lot, and she listened and complimented his skill in carpet-making. She spent the rest of the day watching, listening, wandering. Anything to stay out of that house.

She was sitting in the garden with her little sister, having given in at last to the constant pleading. The two of them were playing with dolls that Ara vaguely recognised as her own, but had evidently been passed on once she grew bored of them. In fact, they didn’t seem to have gotten much more exciting in the years since she had them. Her little brother toddled up to her, laughing, shrieked “catch!” and threw a stone straight at her head. This was usual behavior, but most of the time he missed. Her mother had to stitch up the cut, which left a scar there as a slightly itchy reminder of what a little shit that kid was.

In the relative safety of her room this time, Ara listened to her father’s roars and her mother’s whimpering cries. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, refusing to allow herself the tears this time. There was no use in them, and no one to comfort her. No one to make things better for her. This was how things were: her brother a coward, her mother submissive, her father shouting, and Ara left alone. But she was getting used to that feeling by now.

She didn’t exactly run away from home, she just…left. At age 17, she went away. She made no secret of it, just packed up her things, said goodbye to her mother on her way out the door, and wandered out of the city to make her own way. No one noticed, she told herself as she walked. No one cared.

Name: Artemis, The Artificer “Art”

Played By: Alex Robinson

Age: Unknown

Race: Half-Syndar

Class: Mage

Birthplace: Vandregon

Relations: Naxala, Nataniel

My name is Artemis.  I am not my father.

My story begins as any other.  Born amid the Undead war and somehow survived.  Living amongst the brink of war.  My story is nothing special or at least it should not have been.

My mother would often regal me of the story of my birth father.  In her words,

“Your father was kind man.  A Syndar.  He had sharp teeth and quite long ears.  He was dark skinned, and he walked with just the most impressive swagger.  Confidence.  Poise.  A charmer for sure.  One day, after a successful sail about the sea, he and his friends came in for a drink.  Boy could your father pack them down.  As I was watching him, I was accosted by some random drunkards wanting my services.  They were grungy and had no class.  But work is work.  These men were quite rough with me and id charge extra for that, but I did not care for these men at all.  But then, your father stepped up, dashing man, beautiful beard.  He shoved the men out of the way as they were hurting me.  They fought but your father bested them even in his drunken state.  He then offered me a drink with him and paid for the time.  He didn’t even want pleasures of the flesh just my company and conversation.  What a fine man.”

As you see, my father was a charmer.  As my grandfather states, over time of his stay, they would hang out together quite often. Chatting about life and being plain good company.  From what I heard; he was the only one that gave my mother a rocking good time.  I didn’t know what that meant until I was in my teens.

I am here on Mardrun as I am a prodigy.  I have taken a keen understanding to all things magic and have a high magical aptitude.  I was to surpass my father and take on his role.  I do not want this position.  His daughter, Naxala, states otherwise.  It was because of her, I should be grateful to her, I am alive.  She felt a dream, a dream of a boy who would one day overtake Talonflame and surpass him.  He would have extreme mastery and Practicality of Magic.  All Magic.  Her dream saw my face and she has been tracking me down.  With the help of her father’s adviser Nathaniel.

After a time, I was born, and left in the care of my grandfather.  Mother wanted me to be comfortable, and she didn’t want me taken away either.  A baby born with magical knack would be sought after by not only my father and the state but also by the Penitent.  I had a very strong magical aptitude.  Think of me as a diamond in the rough or jack of all trades.  I was being sought after on three fronts.  One, The Penitant, rumors circled that they were recruiting in the area and if they knew of my magical knack they may try to capture and train me in the ways of either necromancy or blood magic, my aptitude could have done both.  Two, The State, as the battles on Faedrun battered our lines there was concern that they would’ve grabbed me a trained me as an Arcane Front-line warrior, a Battle Magus.  Three, my father, he would want me for my extreme skill and dashing good looks.  She didn’t want me to get in the wrong hands, so off to my grandfather I went.    A lot of my time was spent reading and learning stories.  A chunk of time was spent in my grandfather’s forge.  Mostly fetching water and coals.  He has the task of helping arm Vandragon with steel.

In my studies, I had a bully, like many other book-learned of my time.  Except this bully, took things too far.  I was teen when things went off.  I was working diligently on a new project; I was trying to boil water without the use of raw fire or coal.  Trying to create a chemical fire much like oil.  Liquid fire if you will.  But then my bully knocked all my chemicals off my table.  Spat in my face and called me a worm.  But what put him over the edge, was today, he wanted to talk about half breed heritage.  He even called my father names.  Talked il about my mother too, saying I’m a son of a Bitch.  True but uncalled for.  That sent me over the edge.  Blood was rushing to my ears so I could not hear what he was saying.  That’s when I blacked out.  Witness accounts stated I ran at him with the force of a tiger and punched his face in.  That’s not all though.  I also used magics from my hands to launch him in the air and his body landed with a sickening crack.  A rudimentary push spell but you get the idea.  He was disfigured and very dead.  I was out for like a week after.  Its stated, that during that time, a secondary female bully took over and, had her way with me.  Taking advantage of my already bloodlust state.  I had hoped id find her before I left, show her a piece of my mind.

Either way, from then on, I was home schooled.  All my books were ordered, and I never left the house.  Though word already got out of my magical talents.  Grandpa would get visitors and scholars wanting to take and teach me, hone my skills.  Grandpa would have none of it and shoed them away.  Then he met a Syndar man.  He just was chatting about, blacksmithing.  But he was keeping an eye on me as well.  Then he left.  No mess, no nothing.  Just chatter.

Over time I got older and was allowed out very briefly to wander.  But my wandering days did not last long.  It was at this time my village was being attacked.  By undead no less, and a scream. The most terrifying scream I have ever heard.  A scream that still haunts me till this day.  The scream, of a Banshee. It was coming for me.  To make me one of her thralls.  That’s when that man from before came back and snatched me away from my village.  No fuss, no mess.  Maybe even an ice bolt of two.  As I dethawed I watched as my village was torn to pieces only thing left, was the fire from my grandfather’s forge still burning.

It was then, I was locked away yet again like a fairytale princess.  Forced to read and read and read.  Training in a small locked away part of a ship.  Hidden like a sack potatoes.  Once I was on land, I was not allowed to leave.  I read and I trained.  Over time, I was taken to what I guess is a small town.  I was to not run, only study.  Or else I get the ice bolt.  Thanks to my captivity, my intelligence may have grown but my mannerisms not so much.  Time felt like an illusion.

Naxala, was trained in Divine magics, Nathaniel in Arcane.  Together they trained me on fundamentals.  I read this, Vazra’s, old worksheets.  I was taught the ways of Khruki, Lord of Darkness.  Over an over again.  Not sure how long has passed since.  Don’t really care.  It was only recently that I was gained any amount of freedom.  Albeit due to the disappearance my father Talonflame.  People always told me he loved to chase tails.  In that time, I have unlocked the mysteries of wielding both Divine and Arcane power.  Not an easy feat mind you.  Also, in my father’s footsteps, I have unlocked the potential to understand the mysteries of the weave.  Again, I am not my father.

“I am something far stronger.”

Player Name: Canyon Crays
Contact Info: canyoncrays@gmail.com
Character Name: Rexton Atherton
Preferred Pronouns: He/Him
Class: Warrior
Age: 20
Race: Human
Hair: Light Brown
Eyes: Blue
Occupation: Sword for hire and general bodyguard for the Hand of Midas
Known Skills: Trained as a soldier and is skilled in shield and sword
Birthplace: an insignificant village in the northern reaches of Faedrun
Relationships: Imrick OakenBrow is his oldest and only friend and one of the few people whose
opinion he respects
Rumors: Strict to his morals and can be almost reckless with his life if it means protecting
another

Background:
I grew up in a backwater village that almost no traveler or merchant would give a second glance at. My family being what was closest to that of the healers of our village helped treat the sick or wounded in any way we could. Since I was a child my mother taught me the teachings of Arnath and the ideals of helping the weak. She tried to teach me medicine and to heal others trying to steer me away from the path of a soldier but I never took well to the practice. I loved playing with wooden swords. My older brother used to tell me stories of a big war where we used to live. He told me he was sad because his friends went away forever or were hurt real bad.  I wanted to go out and stop these violent actions from happening in the first place. To prevent people from being hurt.

Years later, we moved to a new continent named Mardrun. So looking to the Order of Arnath, I decided to join and wanted to become a soldier fighting to save lives directly rather than waiting and healing them after they happen. I had big hopes and dreams for a young kid and the best I could do was random chores as a youth recruit to the Church. We trained a little, and I usually beat the other kids, so I felt I was ready to start training for real. However, there was a problem; I lacked any connection to divine magic. Without it, I would still be able to serve in the military but I couldn’t be an actual part of the Order. I thought this idea to be idiotic. I had the will and drive to serve with my utmost ability but without the presence of divine magic I couldn’t become even the lowest ranking member of the Order. I was fine with this though as simply being able to help in their missions was doing my part. That was until my superiors gave me orders that acted directly against them.

We knew about the tension in the Church; that something was happening between the two remaining chapters. Then all of a sudden everyone was yelling and they were gathering people and everyone was fighting. I saw armored Lion’s battering hammers on each other’s shields. I saw soldiers in the same heraldry cutting each other down. I saw bodies in the blood covered dirt.

I couldn’t believe it. The Order of Arnath was supposed to protect the weak, uphold justice, and be righteous. Now they burned the bodies of a number of their ordained, their Layorder followers, and the young neophytes who believed in the cause… killed by their own during their “civil war”. I spent so much time thinking I would be a great soldier one day and all I could do was hold my training sword in my trembling hand as we were escorted out of the area.

This experience stuck with me for some time after that as I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. I decided I would drop out of the youth recruit program as soon as I could. I hadn’t sworn the oath yet so I was free to leave if I so chose to do so. So after meeting with a fellow soldier, Imrick, who felt similar about his experience I left to fulfill my goals on my own. He told me about an adventure he had going to the Outlands and his ideas of forming an adventuring group. We wouldn’t be alone for long however as we eventually met three others who had an interesting idea. They wanted to create a business of sorts. One that ventures from place to place lending hand and skill to help those it could only asking in return what could be afforded. If a villager needed medical attention but could only cover half the cost we would still do it or if the weapons of the town guard needed to be repaired but the governing Lord gave them too little a budget to cover it we would still help them.

PLAYED BY: Jose Delgado

CONTACT INFO: jddelgado27@gmail.com

CHARACTER NAME: Colter Black

GENDER: Male

PREFFERED PRONOUN(S): He/Him

CLASS: Warrior
AGE: 24

RACE: Human

HAIR: Black

EYES: Hazel

OCCUPATION: Mercenary

KNOWN SKILLS: Colter is a moderately skill-less man. He knows his way around a smithy but does not have the skill to put this to use. He knows his way around his sword and has a basic understanding of field tactics. He is a passable cook and a bit of an artist.

BIRTHPLACE: The Kingdom of Vandregon
APPEARANCE: He wears dark greens and brown clothing with a black gambeson, steel breastplate and sallet. He is usually seen sporting his armor and with a kite shield and battered short sword at his side.

NOTABLE TRAITS: His most notable trait is how unremarkable he looks. No major blemishes or fancy adornments and a plain bearded face.

RELATIONSHIPS: He spent some considerable time in the Outlands expedition with Shay and the two of them were nearly killed on a patrol to rescue the ship’s engineering crew.
He worked under Captain Monty during the Outlands expedition.

RUMORS: I would be surprised if there was any gossip about this unremarkable fellow. At best some would know of his family’s tragically failed profession.

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:
Colter was born in Vandregon to Arthur and Maisy Black. Arthur was a blacksmith, a terse man of few words, producing blades for the local garrison and goods for the townsfolk. He was not amazing at his craft and his wares were not in very high demand. Maisy was cold and distant, spending most of her time taking care of the household and attempting to arrange business with other larger business owners. Money was always tight, and his parents spent little time with him, thus Colter spent much of his early childhood roaming the city streets and getting in fights with other children. He was hotheaded, easy to provoke into confrontation. His parents fled to Newhope Colony from Faedrun and started a smithy there. Arthur began to teach Colter his craft taking him on as an apprentice. The issues from Vandregon followed the Black family to Newhope as Arthur borrowed money from a local gang to get his start. The money never came back due to a lack of demand for Arthur’s subpar goods. The gang liquidated the smithy, burning it down and seizing the smithing supplies. There was a confrontation that led to the killing Arthur and Maisy. Colter who had been on a trip to New Aldoria to sell some of his father’s wares at higher prices came back to the scene of the burnt-out smithy. He pieced together what had happened and in a flash of anger and sorrow thought of taking out revenge. Exhausted from the journey he slept on it in the burnt-out ruin of his home and awoke with a new outlook, resolving that taking revenge would be futile on and knew his survival depended upon keeping a level head. After some careful rummaging around the ruin, he found his parent’s bodies and buried them out back. He then took what gold he could scrounge up and a heavily fire damaged, scarred sword from the rubble. Colter resolved to abandon blacksmithing, setting out on his new life, finding whatever work he could find. He spent several years as a dock worker, saying little, performing his duties and returning home to a company lodge. He never formed meaningful relationships as he knew he would move on from this stage of life as it didn’t suit him. He knew he had to find a calling to find fulfillment in life and decided that he would seek out adventure. He eventually built up enough money to purchase light armor and equipment to begin mercenary work. Though suited for this line of work, Colter never had any formal training. This was not helped by the jobs he was given, often simply escorting nobles and other important officials around Mardrun. Eventually he found himself working as Expedition Security in the Outlands Expedition under Captain Monty, the captain of the Saint Sailor ship. On the disastrous arrival to the outlands with the beaching of one of the ships, Colter set out into the Mordok infested wilderness to help defend the ships crewmen as they attempted to gather supplies to make ship repairs. It was there that Colter received his trial by fire, experiencing heavy combat with roving Mordok and nearly dying alongside his newfound acquaintance Shay. After recovering from his injuries, Colter had a run in with the dreaded Dirge beasts and joined in an operation to enter the Dirge beast infested swamp to gather some moon bulbs needed for the colony’s efforts. Having survived this ordeal, he seeks out more excitement to make a name for himself in these lands. Now better equipped with some earned coin he has set out following tales of Mordok corruption idols in the edges of the swamp near the outpost and has volunteered to join in the effort to help deactivate and destroy the idols.
Colter is often seen standing on his own and speaking little, often he is drawing or writing in his journal. He in a fastidious person, constantly adjusting his clothes and armor to a proper fit and packing bags with care. He will not share drinking glasses or the same piece of food. If his blade is bloodied, he will clean it as soon as he can. If his armor is dented, he will have it mended as soon as he can. Despite this he still wields the same scarred sword he drew from the wreckage of his father’s smithy. He still feels an outsider, seeking out a path he does not yet know, yet he feels his current actions are bringing him closer.