Reserved
[CHAR] Into The Dark: Harbingers of Ruin
- Large Group
- Fantasy
- Advanced
- GM POOHEAD189
Join Status:
Full
BurningCold Magical Bastard
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
Username:
BurningCold
Character Name:
Mallow Rithis
Race/Species:
Skayleigh (Giant and Woad Elf, Kaelish Isles)
Gender:
Male
Age:
107
Career/Class:
Warrior Priest
Skills:
Weapons:
Physical Description:
Fine, attractive features grace Mallow’s face. High - if not impressively so - cheekbones rest beneath bright, friendly eyes, rounded and inviting to any onlooker. They are a striking emerald green, and a feature that Mallow would admit he believed to be one of his best, if he were the prideful sort. His clean-shaven face tapers down into a gently pointed chin, while his mouth is upturned slightly in a natural resting smile. Mallow’s hair, another point of pride (if he were the prideful sort, of course) for him, is a shining platinum blonde, styled into a carefully braided ponytail extending just below his shoulder blades.
Standing a few inches over seven feet tall, with barely tanned skin and a slightly toned body, Mallow is built for feats of agility, while his strength remains adept. His long reaching limbs and lithe form allow him to maneuver across the battlefield with relative ease.
A few faint scars criss cross Mallow’s back, marks left by a heavy hand and an unforgiving whip.
Mallow is adorned heavily with jewelry, bearing a silver ring on each finger, all with the symbol of the Holy Order of the Bloodied Cross carved into them; two swords forming the shape of a cross. Hanging around his neck by a heavy iron chain is a large wooden cross, a hand a half wide and a hand a half long, with the end carved into a wicked looking stake. Mallow claims his cross to be blessed by the EverGod himself. Five notches are etched into the left arm of the cross.
Armor:
A dark brown gambeson of padded cloth donned over a midnight blue tunic makes up the bulk of Mallow’s protection, with thick leather gloves to keep his hands warm and covered. Padded cotton leggings provide a safe balance between comfort and functionality, and sturdy leather boots over woolen socks offer similar benefits. Covering the whole outfit is a hooded cloak, the same midnight blue of the tunic and clasped together with a round silver brooch, unadorned save for the symbol of his order carved into it.
Equipment/Other
Mental Description/Personality:
Good natured but extremely pious, Mallow looks upon heretics and unbelievers with pity, not disdain or contempt. While many of his old order would slay the godless without batting an eye, be they man or monster, Mallow is inclined to take a diplomatic approach whenever possible with the former. In years past, he too killed mindlessly in the name of Bael and the EverGod whenever he deemed it necessary, memories that haunt him during his waking hours and come alive in terrifying detail when slumbering.
On particularly bad nights, when the grief and the guilt threaten to overwhelm Mallow, he finds solace in the absolution that pain brings, flagellating himself for as long as it takes until his mind clears, and the strength of the Allmaker flows into him once again.
Goals:
Mallow wishes to aid Eoghan in their quest for a vampiric cure, and believes he will find atonement for his sins through dedicating his life to such a holy cause.
Background/History:
The smoke curling high into the night’s sky gave away the camp’s position far before the soft glow of the crackling fire, casting long shadows into the surrounding forest did. Most of the skayleigh were asleep, resting in their animal skin tents, while a few were gathered around the dimming fire, sharing hushed whispers so as not to disturb their sleeping compatriots. A nightly watch was foregone in favor of a longer respite; it was deemed logical that in order to outrun the Andred forces, clear heads and rested muscles would be more valuable than security in the mid of night, as exhaustion comes for humans and skayleigh alike, and their flight was not yet so desperate as to cast sleep aside.
But the Holy Order of the Bloodied Cross did not sleep, not when they were looking for heretics; when they were seeking bloodshed. With swords and spears drawn, they descended upon the camp like wolves upon a wounded beast, and they began their foul butcherwork.
It was here, during the slaughter that would cut short the lives of exactly twenty three individuals whose only crime was being of a different faith, that the priests brought back with them a babe, the only survivor of the massacre, and raised it as their own child, training them in the ways of their order.
Mallow Rithis, as he was named, became a warrior priest of Bael with the utmost sense of devotion to the Andred pantheon, defending the EverGod’s faithful by slaying heresy wherever it lay. Knowing the truth of the circumstances that led him to the order only bolstered his faith, so thankful was he to have been saved from a life of sin amongst the godless skayleigh. Yet, he did not hate them. Most who strayed from the path of God never walked it in the first place, and the sad reality was that the Kaels refused to convert to the path of justice, having already been brainwashed from their youth by tales of false deities.
For decades the Holy Order of the Bloodied Cross fought and bled and killed and died in the Kaelic Isles, weeding out heresy wherever they could find it. Eventually, it was decided that the order’s work in the Isles was finished, at least for the time being. One of the elder priests received visions from Bael depicting a plague most unholy, a virus that Bania, down to it’s very core, was infected with. Forges roared to life, barely contained infernos of the fiercest kind. Fine steel was cooled from these flames, cast into deadly spears and swords, soon to be blessed by the gods themselves, with holy water and unswerving faith. The order was preparing for a war against all of vampire kind.
Mallow and his people found success in Bania, to a degree. The winters were harsh; too many of his brothers and sisters seemed to join each fallen vampire as corpses, their blood seeping deep into the ice and the snow and the cold. With each leach that fell, and the swathes of priests that followed, the order grew more and more extreme in it’s methods. Already primarily composed of militant zealots from the start, it seemed to Mallow that the majority of the priests were willing to cast aside what seemed to be basic morality in favor of capturing and killing vampires.
Sickened with what the order had become, and the crimes he committed in the name of his gods, Mallow departed from them. Before ever leaving Bania proper, he met Eoghan, a man searching for a cure to vampirism. It seemed to Mallow a sign from the EverGod. Working to cure the afflicted souls that he once cut down without mercy would be his atonement for his blind faith to the order. Shortly after they crossed out of Banian soil, Queen Isabella sent a contingent of her forces to drive out the remnants of the now defunct Holy Order of the Bloodied Cross, those that left peacefully scattering to the four winds. For the past two decades, the pair have been chasing rumors and legends across the continent, the most recent of which having led them to the Northern Marches.
BurningCold
Character Name:
Mallow Rithis
Race/Species:
Skayleigh (Giant and Woad Elf, Kaelish Isles)
Gender:
Male
Age:
107
Career/Class:
Warrior Priest
Skills:
- Expert - Holy Magic
- Expert - Herbalism
- Journeyman - One Handed Blades
- Journeyman - First Aid
- Journeyman - Light Armor
- Adept - Survival
- Adept - Athletics
- Adept - Acrobatics
- Adept - Stealth
Weapons:
- Blessed Steel Short Sword
- Steel Dagger
Physical Description:
Fine, attractive features grace Mallow’s face. High - if not impressively so - cheekbones rest beneath bright, friendly eyes, rounded and inviting to any onlooker. They are a striking emerald green, and a feature that Mallow would admit he believed to be one of his best, if he were the prideful sort. His clean-shaven face tapers down into a gently pointed chin, while his mouth is upturned slightly in a natural resting smile. Mallow’s hair, another point of pride (if he were the prideful sort, of course) for him, is a shining platinum blonde, styled into a carefully braided ponytail extending just below his shoulder blades.
Standing a few inches over seven feet tall, with barely tanned skin and a slightly toned body, Mallow is built for feats of agility, while his strength remains adept. His long reaching limbs and lithe form allow him to maneuver across the battlefield with relative ease.
A few faint scars criss cross Mallow’s back, marks left by a heavy hand and an unforgiving whip.
Mallow is adorned heavily with jewelry, bearing a silver ring on each finger, all with the symbol of the Holy Order of the Bloodied Cross carved into them; two swords forming the shape of a cross. Hanging around his neck by a heavy iron chain is a large wooden cross, a hand a half wide and a hand a half long, with the end carved into a wicked looking stake. Mallow claims his cross to be blessed by the EverGod himself. Five notches are etched into the left arm of the cross.
Armor:
A dark brown gambeson of padded cloth donned over a midnight blue tunic makes up the bulk of Mallow’s protection, with thick leather gloves to keep his hands warm and covered. Padded cotton leggings provide a safe balance between comfort and functionality, and sturdy leather boots over woolen socks offer similar benefits. Covering the whole outfit is a hooded cloak, the same midnight blue of the tunic and clasped together with a round silver brooch, unadorned save for the symbol of his order carved into it.
Equipment/Other
- Journal containing various remedial recipes, magical instructions, diagrams of human anatomy, and a list of diseases and their symptoms
- Mortar and pestle
- Backpack
- Bedroll
- Bandages
- Surgeon’s kit (scalpels, needle and thread, etc.)
- Enchanted wooden cross
- Pouches of herbs
- Fishing rod
- Whip
- Bottles of Holy Water
Mental Description/Personality:
Good natured but extremely pious, Mallow looks upon heretics and unbelievers with pity, not disdain or contempt. While many of his old order would slay the godless without batting an eye, be they man or monster, Mallow is inclined to take a diplomatic approach whenever possible with the former. In years past, he too killed mindlessly in the name of Bael and the EverGod whenever he deemed it necessary, memories that haunt him during his waking hours and come alive in terrifying detail when slumbering.
On particularly bad nights, when the grief and the guilt threaten to overwhelm Mallow, he finds solace in the absolution that pain brings, flagellating himself for as long as it takes until his mind clears, and the strength of the Allmaker flows into him once again.
Goals:
Mallow wishes to aid Eoghan in their quest for a vampiric cure, and believes he will find atonement for his sins through dedicating his life to such a holy cause.
Background/History:
The smoke curling high into the night’s sky gave away the camp’s position far before the soft glow of the crackling fire, casting long shadows into the surrounding forest did. Most of the skayleigh were asleep, resting in their animal skin tents, while a few were gathered around the dimming fire, sharing hushed whispers so as not to disturb their sleeping compatriots. A nightly watch was foregone in favor of a longer respite; it was deemed logical that in order to outrun the Andred forces, clear heads and rested muscles would be more valuable than security in the mid of night, as exhaustion comes for humans and skayleigh alike, and their flight was not yet so desperate as to cast sleep aside.
But the Holy Order of the Bloodied Cross did not sleep, not when they were looking for heretics; when they were seeking bloodshed. With swords and spears drawn, they descended upon the camp like wolves upon a wounded beast, and they began their foul butcherwork.
It was here, during the slaughter that would cut short the lives of exactly twenty three individuals whose only crime was being of a different faith, that the priests brought back with them a babe, the only survivor of the massacre, and raised it as their own child, training them in the ways of their order.
Mallow Rithis, as he was named, became a warrior priest of Bael with the utmost sense of devotion to the Andred pantheon, defending the EverGod’s faithful by slaying heresy wherever it lay. Knowing the truth of the circumstances that led him to the order only bolstered his faith, so thankful was he to have been saved from a life of sin amongst the godless skayleigh. Yet, he did not hate them. Most who strayed from the path of God never walked it in the first place, and the sad reality was that the Kaels refused to convert to the path of justice, having already been brainwashed from their youth by tales of false deities.
For decades the Holy Order of the Bloodied Cross fought and bled and killed and died in the Kaelic Isles, weeding out heresy wherever they could find it. Eventually, it was decided that the order’s work in the Isles was finished, at least for the time being. One of the elder priests received visions from Bael depicting a plague most unholy, a virus that Bania, down to it’s very core, was infected with. Forges roared to life, barely contained infernos of the fiercest kind. Fine steel was cooled from these flames, cast into deadly spears and swords, soon to be blessed by the gods themselves, with holy water and unswerving faith. The order was preparing for a war against all of vampire kind.
Mallow and his people found success in Bania, to a degree. The winters were harsh; too many of his brothers and sisters seemed to join each fallen vampire as corpses, their blood seeping deep into the ice and the snow and the cold. With each leach that fell, and the swathes of priests that followed, the order grew more and more extreme in it’s methods. Already primarily composed of militant zealots from the start, it seemed to Mallow that the majority of the priests were willing to cast aside what seemed to be basic morality in favor of capturing and killing vampires.
Sickened with what the order had become, and the crimes he committed in the name of his gods, Mallow departed from them. Before ever leaving Bania proper, he met Eoghan, a man searching for a cure to vampirism. It seemed to Mallow a sign from the EverGod. Working to cure the afflicted souls that he once cut down without mercy would be his atonement for his blind faith to the order. Shortly after they crossed out of Banian soil, Queen Isabella sent a contingent of her forces to drive out the remnants of the now defunct Holy Order of the Bloodied Cross, those that left peacefully scattering to the four winds. For the past two decades, the pair have been chasing rumors and legends across the continent, the most recent of which having led them to the Northern Marches.
Username: IcePezz
Character Name: Alanna MacKenzie
Race/Species: Half Elf
Gender: F
Age: 37
Career/Class: Pirate/Raider
Skills:
Weapons:
Other:
Physical Description (as detailed as possible please, pictures not accepted.):
Alanna presents the typical physical appearance of a Kaelic. Though her thick, auburn locks spark more of a red tint to it than brown. Long layers accentuate the different shades of fire dipped in rich chocolate, extending just below her shoulders. Due to the thickness of her hair, and the beads and braids that line the messy mop, her slightly pointed ears often go unnoticed. It is her eyes which catch your attention; elven within shape and the color of the sea after a furious storm. They peer out at you from beneath shaggy bangs, tossed carelessly about her freckled face and sunkissed skin.
Standing just over 5’, she sports the curves of a lady and the muscle tone of a street fighter. Perhaps a bit meatier than most, though it doesn’t seem to bother her much. Scars scatter throughout her body and hands. Ligature marks circle her wrists, fingers marred as if they’ve been broken and re set quite a few times. A careful look over may show that this one is no stranger to violence.
Atop the canvas of chaos and pain, markings in black ink stain her back. From a distance, you notice the marks form the wings of a phoenix.
Armor: Alanna is dressed mostly in leathers. Her outfits vary with her mood. On this day, she can be found in dark brown leather trousers, her boots a shade or two faded with large flaps folded over at the top. A white tunic with billowed sleeves tucked into a dark red vested corset. The corset itself is thick boned and lined, brass buckles clasp it closed under black cord woven through. A large, black belt hangs loosely over her hips, adorned with two pouches and studded frogs on either side fitted for the cutless she is often seen with. Two sashes of soft cloth intertwine with her belt, colored a dull blue and red. Tied in a knot on her right side, with frayed ends left to hang near her knee. Bare armed or not, she wears dark red leather bracers, studded with brass along the top and bottom, fitted with brown leather gloves to match. A brown leather duster completes her, typically worn when sailing or in poor weather.
Equipment/Other:Aside from the pouches that line her belt, Alanna carries around a flask, larger than most, finished in a brushed silver, engraved with a capital “M”.
Pouch contents:
Mental Description/Personality: Alanna would prefer the loud and boisterous atmosphere of a rowdy tavern over solace and silence. To be left alone with her own mind scares the hell out of her and long periods of silence make her extremely uncomfortable. Despite all of this, she herself is not a very loud person.
Alanna is a private person, rarely flaunting her personal business unless it stands to gain her something. Even then, the truth will always be twisted, splashed with a dash of deceit. She is very untrusting of outsiders, and may come off as calloused and jaded. To her, outsiders would include anyone not of her own small circle. Though, she really isn’t all that bad. Her soft spots are just hidden.
Those fortunate enough to be part of her circle may say that she is loyal, passionate, a free spirit. A fierce opponent, fearless and swift with a honed eye, an unrelenting precision that lead each strike to its target with uncanny accuracy.
Goals: To see the world, to be rich beyond compare, but more importantly, to find peace within herself.
Background/History:
As a child, it was always just her and her brother, Aengus. The two of them against the world. Orphans left to fend for themselves. Alanna was a difficult child; headstrong, defiant. But when it came to her brother, there was nothing she wouldn’t do. He was younger than her by at least a year, and certainly a lot more soft than she would ever allow herself to seem. Gods forbid anyone tease him though, they’d have her wrath to contend with.
Alanna doesn't speak much on her beginnings. Though most of her memories at this point have faded or became distorted with time, there are some, still frames from a lifetime ago, of which she can recall with such vivid clarity. She knows enough about who she is and where she came from to know it is a place she'd rather not return to. Whether she would care to admit it or not, it is the blood that flows through her veins which lends itself more to her survival than anything else. Alanna was the product of a forbidden love. One lust filled evening between a human male of the seas, and the daughter to a wood elf clan.
The young man in this story was a notable sailor and crew member of a trade ship that was docked for repairs. The unnamed damsel was far from distressed when the handsome traveler ventured into her sights, interrupting an afternoon patrol. They had spent every moment they could with each other, knowing full well their love could never be. Her people would never accept him, or their love, and leaving the woods would never be an option. The young man had promised he would return the following spring, though it seemed even the gods forbid their love. His ship never docked in their ports again.
A swollen belly and broken heart would be all that remained of their love. The elven woman was ‘sold’ to a neighboring clan. It was to be a marriage of convenience, one that would secure peace on both sides. Tales were spun that the bastard child was born in wedlock, to a male that just happened to die in battle against a demon horde. Their superstitions were the only other thing that seemed to unite the them; this unyielding sea of blood and agony of old.
It wasn't until after the birth of her second child that the lies and traditions of her people began to change her, warp her. She was a twisted shell of a person, hollowed out and lost, with a deepened desire to flee. Of all places to run to, the one that pulled at her the most was the sea.
Alanna was four years old, by human count, when her mother smuggled them out of the confines of the forest trees. It was one night she would never forget. A memory that burns in her mind, even haunts her dreams. A horrid storm ensued that night. It shook the very earth and stirred the ocean waters into a fury. Waves crashed angrily into the small boat and the sky rattled with rage, threatening to kill them all as lightning struck near. It was a miracle the two toddlers made it through the night alive. They were found by a group of human fishermen just before dawn, snuggled into a large cargo crate which managed to drift ashore unharmed. Their mother however, was not with them, and was never heard from nor seen again.
Whatever clan they emerged from was lost to them both. They were given food and shelter, but were soon discovered to be more of a hassle. The two often found themselves hovered in an alleyway under crates and awnings. Begging was never an option for Alanna, and so their resources were more so of the stolen variety. There was one who had taken pity on the pair, an outcast himself. Conway had no children to call his own, and his wife had passed some years earlier from a rare illness. He saw it as a sign when he spied the two about to pilfer from a merchant in town, unaware of the children snaking their hands over his wares. Though old age had taken him as the two reached young adulthood, his memory scorched their souls.
Alanna and Aengus were brought up on the values of the Kaels, twisted with a hint of bitterness only the old outsider could provide. Alanna respected the gods, for she understood their wrath if not acknowledged. Though that doesn't mean she holds them or the ways of her people with high regard. For it was this, more than anything which tore her circle apart.
Aengus was of a different sort, and unlike his sister, he wanted, more than anything, to fit in. It was the root of most of their arguments, and as they grew in age, it only served to deepen the rift between the siblings. Aengus drifted towards the solace of the woods, eventually returning to elven civilization. He reminded Alanna often of tradition, responsibility and purpose, and the more he would push, the harder she would rebel. Each had felt betrayed in their own way, but she knew there was no coming back from this.
What happened within those last few months had Alanna reconsidering what the definition of family truly was. Despite the shenanigans she had caused in her youth, it was the first time she had seen the inside of a jail cell, or felt a cold iron grip around her wrists and ankles. It was her first taste of true pain, and betrayal certainly added a bitter bite to it. Perhaps it was karma returned to her, or perhaps it was just the shove that she needed to get out.
Conway had always encouraged her to be her own person, so when opportunity knocked, she packed her bags, no questions asked, and never looked back. It wasn't easy to leave, but she knew it was the best option, and perhaps her only one.
There have only ever been three men in her life; Aengus, Conway and Jamie. Alanna didn't quite have the patience or time for anyone else. Jamie could never replace Conway as a father figure, however as a mentor, he allowed her the freedom of a different path, and the guidance that would keep her from self destruction. Regardless of the uncertainty of this new venture, she embraced it with open arms. It was a fresh start, a new beginning, a second chance. It did taken some time, but she eventually found a sturdy set of sea legs and her place among the crew of The Black Gaul.
Being a part of Jamie’s crew afforded her many opportunities. She trained in different forms of combat, explored the many different pleasures life has to offer, and even learned to tap into the innate potential her elven heritage had gifted her with. People either praised her or they loathed her. She certainly had a knack for getting under someone's skin. Ultimately though, she was good at what she did. Due to her diversity in skill, and the loyalty she had proven to her crew, she was allowed to come and go as she pleased, as her services were highly sought after. Though this was all under the condition that her service to the Black Gaul came first. She was a seeker, a raider … she was a damned pirate, and one of the best to skulk the seas. She would do odd jobs, some to aid others rise in power, some to just save their asses. It was typically the coin she was after, or the future favors it would gain her and her captain.
Her first venture is always a good story to tell. The Gaul was tracking a seer of sorts. The famed oracle had the power of divination, something that was highly coveted throughout the endless bloodshed plaguing the coastline.
They were supposed to be working alongside another ship. Though the word of an outsider is worth close to nothing, there was little reason to suspect treachery. They were the enemy of an enemy after all. Unfortunately for the Gaul and it's crew, there was a third party being served, which left their crew scattered and their captain marooned on an island far from home. Alanna was held captive for information along with a handful of her mates. They were pressed for anything regarding the whereabouts of the oracle, and what information the crew had regarding the wars. Each of them were forced to endure various methods of torture.
Eventually, after gaining the favor of a few additional hands, they staged a coup. Alanna was far from the hero in the story, but she stayed true to her crew and her captain. She had only been on their ship for a month by this point, and had refused to cave. It was by Alanna’s hand that the traitorous captain was killed. It was by Alanna's aid that they were able to easily navigate the ship to find their lost captain.
Alanna embarked on many adventures with the Gaul. They fought hard and drank harder. Most missions were to ward away the horde of foreigners, though Alanna didn't mind their company as much as others did. It was their stories which captured her. Stories of a whole world out there for the taking. Unspeakable dangers that made their monstrosities seem like pussy cats. Perhaps that interested her more. It certainly put her on the path she travels today.
Character Name: Alanna MacKenzie
Race/Species: Half Elf
Gender: F
Age: 37
Career/Class: Pirate/Raider
Skills:
- Expert-Blades (one handed)
- Expert-Balance/Acrobatics
- Journeyman-Sneaking
- Journeyman-Survival
- Journeyman-Hand to hand
- Adept-Lockpicking
- Adept-Pickpocket
- Adept-Marksman
- Adept-Half Elven Senses
Weapons:
- 2 cutlass (hanging on each side of her hip)
- Small blade (carefully hidden in her right bracer)
Other:
- Ambidexterity
Physical Description (as detailed as possible please, pictures not accepted.):
Alanna presents the typical physical appearance of a Kaelic. Though her thick, auburn locks spark more of a red tint to it than brown. Long layers accentuate the different shades of fire dipped in rich chocolate, extending just below her shoulders. Due to the thickness of her hair, and the beads and braids that line the messy mop, her slightly pointed ears often go unnoticed. It is her eyes which catch your attention; elven within shape and the color of the sea after a furious storm. They peer out at you from beneath shaggy bangs, tossed carelessly about her freckled face and sunkissed skin.
Standing just over 5’, she sports the curves of a lady and the muscle tone of a street fighter. Perhaps a bit meatier than most, though it doesn’t seem to bother her much. Scars scatter throughout her body and hands. Ligature marks circle her wrists, fingers marred as if they’ve been broken and re set quite a few times. A careful look over may show that this one is no stranger to violence.
Atop the canvas of chaos and pain, markings in black ink stain her back. From a distance, you notice the marks form the wings of a phoenix.
Armor: Alanna is dressed mostly in leathers. Her outfits vary with her mood. On this day, she can be found in dark brown leather trousers, her boots a shade or two faded with large flaps folded over at the top. A white tunic with billowed sleeves tucked into a dark red vested corset. The corset itself is thick boned and lined, brass buckles clasp it closed under black cord woven through. A large, black belt hangs loosely over her hips, adorned with two pouches and studded frogs on either side fitted for the cutless she is often seen with. Two sashes of soft cloth intertwine with her belt, colored a dull blue and red. Tied in a knot on her right side, with frayed ends left to hang near her knee. Bare armed or not, she wears dark red leather bracers, studded with brass along the top and bottom, fitted with brown leather gloves to match. A brown leather duster completes her, typically worn when sailing or in poor weather.
Equipment/Other:Aside from the pouches that line her belt, Alanna carries around a flask, larger than most, finished in a brushed silver, engraved with a capital “M”.
Pouch contents:
- Journal- a small, black, leather bound book and a traveling quill. The book itself is worn with scuffed edges. Tucked within its pages are maps, the parchment creased as if it’s been folded and unfolded over and over again.
- Coin purse- a faded, brown coin purse, containing a mix of gold and silver coin.
- Rope- approximately twenty feet of rope, on the thinner side to be stashed in her pouch, but of a sturdy material.
- Spyglass- a collapsible, silver structure in a black leather casing.
- Flint/Steel- kept in a compact container for safekeeping.
- Ink- a glass bottle of black writing ink.
- Rations- typical travel rations, enough to last her a week.
- Bottled smoke- when released, there is a small explosion of thick black smoke. Just enough to blind the senses and allow for escape.
- Cure potion- standard potion to heal wounds and staunch bleeding.
- Compass - enclosed within the same brushed silver as her flask.
Mental Description/Personality: Alanna would prefer the loud and boisterous atmosphere of a rowdy tavern over solace and silence. To be left alone with her own mind scares the hell out of her and long periods of silence make her extremely uncomfortable. Despite all of this, she herself is not a very loud person.
Alanna is a private person, rarely flaunting her personal business unless it stands to gain her something. Even then, the truth will always be twisted, splashed with a dash of deceit. She is very untrusting of outsiders, and may come off as calloused and jaded. To her, outsiders would include anyone not of her own small circle. Though, she really isn’t all that bad. Her soft spots are just hidden.
Those fortunate enough to be part of her circle may say that she is loyal, passionate, a free spirit. A fierce opponent, fearless and swift with a honed eye, an unrelenting precision that lead each strike to its target with uncanny accuracy.
Goals: To see the world, to be rich beyond compare, but more importantly, to find peace within herself.
Background/History:
As a child, it was always just her and her brother, Aengus. The two of them against the world. Orphans left to fend for themselves. Alanna was a difficult child; headstrong, defiant. But when it came to her brother, there was nothing she wouldn’t do. He was younger than her by at least a year, and certainly a lot more soft than she would ever allow herself to seem. Gods forbid anyone tease him though, they’d have her wrath to contend with.
Alanna doesn't speak much on her beginnings. Though most of her memories at this point have faded or became distorted with time, there are some, still frames from a lifetime ago, of which she can recall with such vivid clarity. She knows enough about who she is and where she came from to know it is a place she'd rather not return to. Whether she would care to admit it or not, it is the blood that flows through her veins which lends itself more to her survival than anything else. Alanna was the product of a forbidden love. One lust filled evening between a human male of the seas, and the daughter to a wood elf clan.
The young man in this story was a notable sailor and crew member of a trade ship that was docked for repairs. The unnamed damsel was far from distressed when the handsome traveler ventured into her sights, interrupting an afternoon patrol. They had spent every moment they could with each other, knowing full well their love could never be. Her people would never accept him, or their love, and leaving the woods would never be an option. The young man had promised he would return the following spring, though it seemed even the gods forbid their love. His ship never docked in their ports again.
A swollen belly and broken heart would be all that remained of their love. The elven woman was ‘sold’ to a neighboring clan. It was to be a marriage of convenience, one that would secure peace on both sides. Tales were spun that the bastard child was born in wedlock, to a male that just happened to die in battle against a demon horde. Their superstitions were the only other thing that seemed to unite the them; this unyielding sea of blood and agony of old.
It wasn't until after the birth of her second child that the lies and traditions of her people began to change her, warp her. She was a twisted shell of a person, hollowed out and lost, with a deepened desire to flee. Of all places to run to, the one that pulled at her the most was the sea.
Alanna was four years old, by human count, when her mother smuggled them out of the confines of the forest trees. It was one night she would never forget. A memory that burns in her mind, even haunts her dreams. A horrid storm ensued that night. It shook the very earth and stirred the ocean waters into a fury. Waves crashed angrily into the small boat and the sky rattled with rage, threatening to kill them all as lightning struck near. It was a miracle the two toddlers made it through the night alive. They were found by a group of human fishermen just before dawn, snuggled into a large cargo crate which managed to drift ashore unharmed. Their mother however, was not with them, and was never heard from nor seen again.
Whatever clan they emerged from was lost to them both. They were given food and shelter, but were soon discovered to be more of a hassle. The two often found themselves hovered in an alleyway under crates and awnings. Begging was never an option for Alanna, and so their resources were more so of the stolen variety. There was one who had taken pity on the pair, an outcast himself. Conway had no children to call his own, and his wife had passed some years earlier from a rare illness. He saw it as a sign when he spied the two about to pilfer from a merchant in town, unaware of the children snaking their hands over his wares. Though old age had taken him as the two reached young adulthood, his memory scorched their souls.
Alanna and Aengus were brought up on the values of the Kaels, twisted with a hint of bitterness only the old outsider could provide. Alanna respected the gods, for she understood their wrath if not acknowledged. Though that doesn't mean she holds them or the ways of her people with high regard. For it was this, more than anything which tore her circle apart.
Aengus was of a different sort, and unlike his sister, he wanted, more than anything, to fit in. It was the root of most of their arguments, and as they grew in age, it only served to deepen the rift between the siblings. Aengus drifted towards the solace of the woods, eventually returning to elven civilization. He reminded Alanna often of tradition, responsibility and purpose, and the more he would push, the harder she would rebel. Each had felt betrayed in their own way, but she knew there was no coming back from this.
What happened within those last few months had Alanna reconsidering what the definition of family truly was. Despite the shenanigans she had caused in her youth, it was the first time she had seen the inside of a jail cell, or felt a cold iron grip around her wrists and ankles. It was her first taste of true pain, and betrayal certainly added a bitter bite to it. Perhaps it was karma returned to her, or perhaps it was just the shove that she needed to get out.
Conway had always encouraged her to be her own person, so when opportunity knocked, she packed her bags, no questions asked, and never looked back. It wasn't easy to leave, but she knew it was the best option, and perhaps her only one.
There have only ever been three men in her life; Aengus, Conway and Jamie. Alanna didn't quite have the patience or time for anyone else. Jamie could never replace Conway as a father figure, however as a mentor, he allowed her the freedom of a different path, and the guidance that would keep her from self destruction. Regardless of the uncertainty of this new venture, she embraced it with open arms. It was a fresh start, a new beginning, a second chance. It did taken some time, but she eventually found a sturdy set of sea legs and her place among the crew of The Black Gaul.
Being a part of Jamie’s crew afforded her many opportunities. She trained in different forms of combat, explored the many different pleasures life has to offer, and even learned to tap into the innate potential her elven heritage had gifted her with. People either praised her or they loathed her. She certainly had a knack for getting under someone's skin. Ultimately though, she was good at what she did. Due to her diversity in skill, and the loyalty she had proven to her crew, she was allowed to come and go as she pleased, as her services were highly sought after. Though this was all under the condition that her service to the Black Gaul came first. She was a seeker, a raider … she was a damned pirate, and one of the best to skulk the seas. She would do odd jobs, some to aid others rise in power, some to just save their asses. It was typically the coin she was after, or the future favors it would gain her and her captain.
Her first venture is always a good story to tell. The Gaul was tracking a seer of sorts. The famed oracle had the power of divination, something that was highly coveted throughout the endless bloodshed plaguing the coastline.
They were supposed to be working alongside another ship. Though the word of an outsider is worth close to nothing, there was little reason to suspect treachery. They were the enemy of an enemy after all. Unfortunately for the Gaul and it's crew, there was a third party being served, which left their crew scattered and their captain marooned on an island far from home. Alanna was held captive for information along with a handful of her mates. They were pressed for anything regarding the whereabouts of the oracle, and what information the crew had regarding the wars. Each of them were forced to endure various methods of torture.
Eventually, after gaining the favor of a few additional hands, they staged a coup. Alanna was far from the hero in the story, but she stayed true to her crew and her captain. She had only been on their ship for a month by this point, and had refused to cave. It was by Alanna’s hand that the traitorous captain was killed. It was by Alanna's aid that they were able to easily navigate the ship to find their lost captain.
Alanna embarked on many adventures with the Gaul. They fought hard and drank harder. Most missions were to ward away the horde of foreigners, though Alanna didn't mind their company as much as others did. It was their stories which captured her. Stories of a whole world out there for the taking. Unspeakable dangers that made their monstrosities seem like pussy cats. Perhaps that interested her more. It certainly put her on the path she travels today.
LadyTabris princess
Member
Seen
3 yrs ago
Username: LadyTabris
Character Name: Cadence Antoni
Race/Species: Human (Praelior)
Gender: Female
Age: 28
Career/Class:
Skills:
Weapons:
Physical Description: Cadence stands at about 5’7, a bit below average height in Praelior and on the tall side elsewhere. She has dark bronzed skin and brown eyes. Her hair is a dark brown, nearly black colour, and naturally straight and silky (when maintained). She keeps it grown out all the way down to her bellybutton. She keeps it braided and often pinned into an up-do when travelling, for convenience. When she performs in a more acrobatic way, she’ll keep a loose braid in so that it’s out of her way, but if she’s dancing, she will brush it out and let it fall loose. While she owns rough travelling clothes, she prefers to stay in a casual costume of sorts: either bright colours, or dark colours with a lot of beads and jewels. She is thin with a few curves, but still has muscles from her acrobatic and combat training just under the surface.
Armor: None
Equipment/Other
Mental Description/Personality: She is extremely outgoing, and will often just start talking to anyone about anything that’s on her mind. She trusts people very easily. The top of her list is basically just to experience life to the fullest. She has friends or contacts wherever she has previously been. Cadence is naturally very curious, and tries to get people to teach her foreign skills whenever possible. She likes to be wherever the action is happening, because she has a great fascination with stories. As she has spent all her life learning stories and learning how to tell them for people’s entertainment, she is very curious about the truth behind them and how the stories actually happened. For this reason, she’s always curious about experiencing her own story so that she can tell it. She’s the type of person to make bad jokes at bad times, and takes a very lighthearted approach to life. She values honesty.
Goals: Living an exciting story of her own instead of telling them, experiencing life and meeting people.
Background/History: Cadence was born to a very normal, middle-class merchant family in Praelior, with three older brothers and very normal parents. She had access to many books, which she constantly took advantage of. She enjoyed stories of any kind, and history books, as she sees history as an ultimate story. She grew up fairly bored; she didn’t enjoy her lessons on math or other merchant affairs and had no desire to live that life.
When she was 16, she asked a travelling storyteller to take her on as an apprentice. His name was Umair. He was from Vrettonia, and a skilled duelist. He taught her how to fight with a rapier and how to throw knives. He also taught her various skills in storytelling, teaching her the classic stories and any new ones they came across while travelling. She learned acrobatics from him, but her skills at dancing came from time they spent with the Di-janni people. She kept in touch with her family through letters, and visits. Her parents disapproved heavily of her choice, but they let her make her own decisions. She returned mostly to visit her brothers, who supported her choices.
She spent six years travelling with Umair, until she set out on her own and took her own apprentice. That apprentice was named Kadia. She was from Andred, and stayed with Cadence learning for about 5 years. The two became very close and had a mother-daughter type relationship. They keep in touch when they can, since Cadence set out to chase adventure and Kadia returned to Andred.
Character Name: Cadence Antoni
Race/Species: Human (Praelior)
Gender: Female
Age: 28
Career/Class:
Skills:
- Expert: Acrobatics
- Expert: Speechcraft
- Journeyman: One-Handed Blade
- Journeyman: Knife-throwing
- Journeyman: Sneak
- Adept: Hand-to-Hand
- Adept: Lockpicking
- Adept: Mercantile
- Adept: Survival
Weapons:
- Rapier
- Throwing knives (6)
Physical Description: Cadence stands at about 5’7, a bit below average height in Praelior and on the tall side elsewhere. She has dark bronzed skin and brown eyes. Her hair is a dark brown, nearly black colour, and naturally straight and silky (when maintained). She keeps it grown out all the way down to her bellybutton. She keeps it braided and often pinned into an up-do when travelling, for convenience. When she performs in a more acrobatic way, she’ll keep a loose braid in so that it’s out of her way, but if she’s dancing, she will brush it out and let it fall loose. While she owns rough travelling clothes, she prefers to stay in a casual costume of sorts: either bright colours, or dark colours with a lot of beads and jewels. She is thin with a few curves, but still has muscles from her acrobatic and combat training just under the surface.
Armor: None
Equipment/Other
- Bedroll
- Basic cookies supplies [a pot/pan cross and a few utensils] and some spices.
- Waterskin
- Leather satchel
- Lute
- Flute
- Plain travelling clothes and cloak
- Bright coloured performing clothes and loose, black dancing clothes
- Bead jewellery
- Dried meats, bread. Rations.
Mental Description/Personality: She is extremely outgoing, and will often just start talking to anyone about anything that’s on her mind. She trusts people very easily. The top of her list is basically just to experience life to the fullest. She has friends or contacts wherever she has previously been. Cadence is naturally very curious, and tries to get people to teach her foreign skills whenever possible. She likes to be wherever the action is happening, because she has a great fascination with stories. As she has spent all her life learning stories and learning how to tell them for people’s entertainment, she is very curious about the truth behind them and how the stories actually happened. For this reason, she’s always curious about experiencing her own story so that she can tell it. She’s the type of person to make bad jokes at bad times, and takes a very lighthearted approach to life. She values honesty.
Goals: Living an exciting story of her own instead of telling them, experiencing life and meeting people.
Background/History: Cadence was born to a very normal, middle-class merchant family in Praelior, with three older brothers and very normal parents. She had access to many books, which she constantly took advantage of. She enjoyed stories of any kind, and history books, as she sees history as an ultimate story. She grew up fairly bored; she didn’t enjoy her lessons on math or other merchant affairs and had no desire to live that life.
When she was 16, she asked a travelling storyteller to take her on as an apprentice. His name was Umair. He was from Vrettonia, and a skilled duelist. He taught her how to fight with a rapier and how to throw knives. He also taught her various skills in storytelling, teaching her the classic stories and any new ones they came across while travelling. She learned acrobatics from him, but her skills at dancing came from time they spent with the Di-janni people. She kept in touch with her family through letters, and visits. Her parents disapproved heavily of her choice, but they let her make her own decisions. She returned mostly to visit her brothers, who supported her choices.
She spent six years travelling with Umair, until she set out on her own and took her own apprentice. That apprentice was named Kadia. She was from Andred, and stayed with Cadence learning for about 5 years. The two became very close and had a mother-daughter type relationship. They keep in touch when they can, since Cadence set out to chase adventure and Kadia returned to Andred.
Username: Mortarion
Character Name:Talos Valcoran
Race/Species:Human
Gender:Male
Age:35
Career/Class:Knight (the Order of the Dusk)
Skills:
Weapons:
Physical Description: Valcoran’s face could be appropriately described as plain, there are no remarkable features on his face save for two: a slight gauntness on his cheeks -a byproduct of a lack of a proper diet when he was growing up- and two scars on his face, one that goes through his forehead and a second one that goes over his left eye and crisscrosses with the forehead scar. His eyes are of a deep, dark blue, color that seem to be constantly clouded, a wary, alert, look always seemingly set on them. His head is crowned by hair of a dark, ebony, hair that he always keeps cropped short.
Standing a few inches taller than 6 feet, it becomes readily apparent that Talos is well toned -due to both his training and the fact that he had to work from a young age- with a clearly tanned skin from many hours under the sun. With calloused hands and a pair of arms that are clearly muscled, it is readily apparent that Talos is more suited for tasks that require more brute strength than anything else. Across his chest the mark of more than a few blades, and claws, is quite evident as scars crisscross over his chest, another memento of his time serving Daubeny.
On the length of both his forearms the scars of serious burns are quite evident, along with a few slash scars.
When outside his armor, Talos wears a simple linen shirt along with a set of trousers held by a simple, plain, belt. The only jewelry that he permits himself to wear is a pendant with the image of two crossed hammers that are encircled, which Talos simply states is his way of remembering that he was welcomed by the Forged and the times he spent there.
Armor: Talos wears a set of interwoven metal plates atop chainmail, which is segmented along the torso, arms, and legs so as to provide him with greater dexterity in battle. On top of the torso section of his armor Talos wears a dark indigo tabard which is outlined by a forest green fabric, as is customary of the order of the Dusk. Alongside this, to protect his head, Talos usually wears a visored barbuta helmet.
Equipment/Other:
Mental Description/Personality: Once a cheerful, open, person, Talos’s life has shaped him into a dour, serious, and withdrawn man to whom his mission is everything. The single-mindedness of purpose that characterised him in his youth and during his time as a squire in the order of the Forge knights has turned into zealotry towards two goals: riding the world of Fey Witches and avenging his fallen comrades. This last objective is born from Talos’s sense of loyalty, a sense which was inculcated in him by his late parents but which rooted itself further into the knight’s psyche during his training under the Forged. Indeed, were one to gain his loyalty Talos will prove himself a staunch ally who will go to any lengths to aid those he feels loyalty towards, be it either by avenging them were they to die or laying down his life for them if possible.
However, the loss of his comrades at the hands of a Fey Witch so many years ago has turned Talos into a reclusive man who is slow to warm up to people and open up to them, however to those that he opens up to some of his old personality rises up to the surface. Another consequence of that dreadful encounter with the Fey Witch has instilled in his mind a deep suspicion -if not a mild racism- of the elven races, believing them to be either just as bad as the Fey Witches he now zealously hunts or just one step away from turning into that same kind of monster.
Finally, this fixation on his dual missions has resulted in a tendency to neglect himself meaning that while he might not be actively suicidal, indeed Talos would find it dishonourably in the extreme to die before completing his mission, he is prone to overextending himself -or negating wounds that he might consider ‘minor’- and end up in situations that might be life threatening.
Goals: Destroy as many Fey Witches as possible and learning the identity of the Fey Witch that murdered his fellow Forged squires.
Background/History: Born to a loving, albeit somewhat poor, couple of parents, Talos was forced from a young age to start working so as to help support his family's meager income. Despite a life that was often harsh, and that left little -if any- room for luxuries, Talos and his parents were happy with their place in the world. However, everything must eventually come to an end and, tragically, for Talos the life of his parents came to an early end when an outbreak of disease claimed both of their lives. Forced to sell what meager earthly possessions the Valcoran family had, Talos soon found himself living on the streets begging and performing backbreaking jobs to stay alive.
Determined to endure and survive, Talos threw himself at every endeavor that came to him in life with a single-mindedness of purpose. After half a decade of living on the streets, his luck turned around when he was singled by one of the Forged to join their order as a prospective knight apprentice. Immensely grateful towards the knight that had brought him into the orders fold, the orphan boy focused wholeheartedly into his training as one of the squires of the Forged. The years passed by as Talos focused on his training as a knight, absorbing the knowledge imparted on him by his mentors on forging and, above all, fighting techniques.
Time passed by and by the next decade, when the squire was a young adult of 25 years, came the long awaited moment where Talos was sent away so that he might test his skills in the real world and become a true knight. By that time Talos had come to consider the Forged as a sort of surrogate family and had no intention of leaving the knightly order that had welcomed him where he had nowhere else to go. However, things once again would take a turn for the worse.
Like many of the Forged, Talos, alongside a group of fellow squires which had been selected as prospective candidates at the same time as him and with which he had forged a knit-tight bond, had been selected by a Lord, who went by the name of Daubeny, from a nearby village that bordered the northern marshes. Apparently the area which that particular noble claimed owed fealty to him had become increasingly dangerous to travel and the noble lord wanted Talos and his fellow squires to help pacify the area. At first things were going well as Talos and the other Forged only ran into bandits and other such threats that they could easily dispatch, however as time went on the bandits were replaced by fierce beasts and myriads of other magical threats.
Losses in battle started climbing up, yet the squires persevered. After a few months Talos and his fellow would-be-knights, now only 5 of the original 15 that had set out, finally came by the source of the troubles in the region they had been patrolling: a Fey Witch. Bound by their oaths to the lord of the land, Talos and his fellow squires tried to slay the Fey Witch that had been terrorizing the lands but, alas, they were no match for their foe, Talos’s companions were slain and he himself only managed to drive the witch away from the lands and not slay her as they had originally set out to do. Limping his way back to the keep from which lord Daubeny governed, Talos finally reached the keep both delirious from his wounds and on the brink of death. Given time to rest, and the help of a healer, Talos related what had happened to the nobleman once he could stand on his own. Incensed by the squires failure at slaying the Fey Witch the lord refused to knight him and banished Talos from his lands and told him to never return, lest he be executed for his failure at slaying the witch.
Too exhausted to protest at the unjust treatment he received Talos made his way back to the chapter house from which he and his fellow squires had set off from. When he returned Talos was welcomed back, albeit questions buzzed as to what had happened. Had Talos come back, newly knighted, to help train the next generation of Forged? And if so, what had happened to his fellow knights? Had they decided to stay in the service of the lord who had knighted them, or had they scattered to the winds and joined other knightly orders?
After a few weeks Talos finally managed to gather the courage and tell the older knights what had happened. He told them of the troubles they had encountered and, more importantly, of the Fey Witch that they had faced and whom had taken the lives of his fellow squires, furthermore he told the older knights of how his failure at slaying the witch meant he hadn’t been knighted by Daubeny. When Talos finished relating his tale he was told to wait outside, hours transpired and he could hear murmurs coming from the room in which the elder knights discussed. Eventually Talos was ushered back into the room, where the old knights had a simple question for him: what did he intend to do now?
With a heavy heart Talos answered the elder knight’s query. He would leave the Forge knights, in the mind of the young man he could no longer be part of the order for two reasons. On one hand, he had failed his trials and hadn’t been knighted; on the other hand, he personally felt like he couldn’t stay within the order -even if it would welcome him back- as he felt unworthy of joining the order, furthermore he felt that he was honor-bound to avenge his fallen comrades and, as such, he couldn’t stay with the Forged. Excusing himself Talos left before the elder knights could say anything more, soon enough he gathered what meager possessions he had and, after saying goodbye to his acquaintances in the chapter house, left the building.
Seeking vengeance for his fallen comrades Talos joined the Templars of Dusk, of whom he had heard during his stay in the lands plagued by the Fey Witch, wanting to learn everything he could from the order dedicated to fighting the Fey. 10 years passed by as Talos learned at the feet of the masters of the order of Dusk but by the time he emerged once more he was now a member of the Order of the Dusk. With one clear objective in mind the newly knighted Templar made his way towards the Northern Marches, his sole objective wiping as many Fey Witches as he could and maybe, just maybe, finding the witch that had murdered his comrades and enacting vengeance for them.
Character Name:Talos Valcoran
Race/Species:Human
Gender:Male
Age:35
Career/Class:Knight (the Order of the Dusk)
Skills:
- Expert - Two-handed blade
- Expert - Heavy Armor
- Journeyman - Athletics
- Journeyman - Smithing
- Journeyman - Hand to Hand
- Adept - Medicine
- Adept - Mercantile
- Adept - Speech
- Adept - Tailoring
Weapons:
- Valdium Two-handed longsword
- Hunting Knife
Physical Description: Valcoran’s face could be appropriately described as plain, there are no remarkable features on his face save for two: a slight gauntness on his cheeks -a byproduct of a lack of a proper diet when he was growing up- and two scars on his face, one that goes through his forehead and a second one that goes over his left eye and crisscrosses with the forehead scar. His eyes are of a deep, dark blue, color that seem to be constantly clouded, a wary, alert, look always seemingly set on them. His head is crowned by hair of a dark, ebony, hair that he always keeps cropped short.
Standing a few inches taller than 6 feet, it becomes readily apparent that Talos is well toned -due to both his training and the fact that he had to work from a young age- with a clearly tanned skin from many hours under the sun. With calloused hands and a pair of arms that are clearly muscled, it is readily apparent that Talos is more suited for tasks that require more brute strength than anything else. Across his chest the mark of more than a few blades, and claws, is quite evident as scars crisscross over his chest, another memento of his time serving Daubeny.
On the length of both his forearms the scars of serious burns are quite evident, along with a few slash scars.
When outside his armor, Talos wears a simple linen shirt along with a set of trousers held by a simple, plain, belt. The only jewelry that he permits himself to wear is a pendant with the image of two crossed hammers that are encircled, which Talos simply states is his way of remembering that he was welcomed by the Forged and the times he spent there.
Armor: Talos wears a set of interwoven metal plates atop chainmail, which is segmented along the torso, arms, and legs so as to provide him with greater dexterity in battle. On top of the torso section of his armor Talos wears a dark indigo tabard which is outlined by a forest green fabric, as is customary of the order of the Dusk. Alongside this, to protect his head, Talos usually wears a visored barbuta helmet.
Equipment/Other:
- Leather-bound Journal
- Whetstone
- Travelling sack
- Bedroll
- Roll of bandages
- Small bottle of alcohol
- Needle and thread roll
Mental Description/Personality: Once a cheerful, open, person, Talos’s life has shaped him into a dour, serious, and withdrawn man to whom his mission is everything. The single-mindedness of purpose that characterised him in his youth and during his time as a squire in the order of the Forge knights has turned into zealotry towards two goals: riding the world of Fey Witches and avenging his fallen comrades. This last objective is born from Talos’s sense of loyalty, a sense which was inculcated in him by his late parents but which rooted itself further into the knight’s psyche during his training under the Forged. Indeed, were one to gain his loyalty Talos will prove himself a staunch ally who will go to any lengths to aid those he feels loyalty towards, be it either by avenging them were they to die or laying down his life for them if possible.
However, the loss of his comrades at the hands of a Fey Witch so many years ago has turned Talos into a reclusive man who is slow to warm up to people and open up to them, however to those that he opens up to some of his old personality rises up to the surface. Another consequence of that dreadful encounter with the Fey Witch has instilled in his mind a deep suspicion -if not a mild racism- of the elven races, believing them to be either just as bad as the Fey Witches he now zealously hunts or just one step away from turning into that same kind of monster.
Finally, this fixation on his dual missions has resulted in a tendency to neglect himself meaning that while he might not be actively suicidal, indeed Talos would find it dishonourably in the extreme to die before completing his mission, he is prone to overextending himself -or negating wounds that he might consider ‘minor’- and end up in situations that might be life threatening.
Goals: Destroy as many Fey Witches as possible and learning the identity of the Fey Witch that murdered his fellow Forged squires.
Background/History: Born to a loving, albeit somewhat poor, couple of parents, Talos was forced from a young age to start working so as to help support his family's meager income. Despite a life that was often harsh, and that left little -if any- room for luxuries, Talos and his parents were happy with their place in the world. However, everything must eventually come to an end and, tragically, for Talos the life of his parents came to an early end when an outbreak of disease claimed both of their lives. Forced to sell what meager earthly possessions the Valcoran family had, Talos soon found himself living on the streets begging and performing backbreaking jobs to stay alive.
Determined to endure and survive, Talos threw himself at every endeavor that came to him in life with a single-mindedness of purpose. After half a decade of living on the streets, his luck turned around when he was singled by one of the Forged to join their order as a prospective knight apprentice. Immensely grateful towards the knight that had brought him into the orders fold, the orphan boy focused wholeheartedly into his training as one of the squires of the Forged. The years passed by as Talos focused on his training as a knight, absorbing the knowledge imparted on him by his mentors on forging and, above all, fighting techniques.
Time passed by and by the next decade, when the squire was a young adult of 25 years, came the long awaited moment where Talos was sent away so that he might test his skills in the real world and become a true knight. By that time Talos had come to consider the Forged as a sort of surrogate family and had no intention of leaving the knightly order that had welcomed him where he had nowhere else to go. However, things once again would take a turn for the worse.
Like many of the Forged, Talos, alongside a group of fellow squires which had been selected as prospective candidates at the same time as him and with which he had forged a knit-tight bond, had been selected by a Lord, who went by the name of Daubeny, from a nearby village that bordered the northern marshes. Apparently the area which that particular noble claimed owed fealty to him had become increasingly dangerous to travel and the noble lord wanted Talos and his fellow squires to help pacify the area. At first things were going well as Talos and the other Forged only ran into bandits and other such threats that they could easily dispatch, however as time went on the bandits were replaced by fierce beasts and myriads of other magical threats.
Losses in battle started climbing up, yet the squires persevered. After a few months Talos and his fellow would-be-knights, now only 5 of the original 15 that had set out, finally came by the source of the troubles in the region they had been patrolling: a Fey Witch. Bound by their oaths to the lord of the land, Talos and his fellow squires tried to slay the Fey Witch that had been terrorizing the lands but, alas, they were no match for their foe, Talos’s companions were slain and he himself only managed to drive the witch away from the lands and not slay her as they had originally set out to do. Limping his way back to the keep from which lord Daubeny governed, Talos finally reached the keep both delirious from his wounds and on the brink of death. Given time to rest, and the help of a healer, Talos related what had happened to the nobleman once he could stand on his own. Incensed by the squires failure at slaying the Fey Witch the lord refused to knight him and banished Talos from his lands and told him to never return, lest he be executed for his failure at slaying the witch.
Too exhausted to protest at the unjust treatment he received Talos made his way back to the chapter house from which he and his fellow squires had set off from. When he returned Talos was welcomed back, albeit questions buzzed as to what had happened. Had Talos come back, newly knighted, to help train the next generation of Forged? And if so, what had happened to his fellow knights? Had they decided to stay in the service of the lord who had knighted them, or had they scattered to the winds and joined other knightly orders?
After a few weeks Talos finally managed to gather the courage and tell the older knights what had happened. He told them of the troubles they had encountered and, more importantly, of the Fey Witch that they had faced and whom had taken the lives of his fellow squires, furthermore he told the older knights of how his failure at slaying the witch meant he hadn’t been knighted by Daubeny. When Talos finished relating his tale he was told to wait outside, hours transpired and he could hear murmurs coming from the room in which the elder knights discussed. Eventually Talos was ushered back into the room, where the old knights had a simple question for him: what did he intend to do now?
With a heavy heart Talos answered the elder knight’s query. He would leave the Forge knights, in the mind of the young man he could no longer be part of the order for two reasons. On one hand, he had failed his trials and hadn’t been knighted; on the other hand, he personally felt like he couldn’t stay within the order -even if it would welcome him back- as he felt unworthy of joining the order, furthermore he felt that he was honor-bound to avenge his fallen comrades and, as such, he couldn’t stay with the Forged. Excusing himself Talos left before the elder knights could say anything more, soon enough he gathered what meager possessions he had and, after saying goodbye to his acquaintances in the chapter house, left the building.
Seeking vengeance for his fallen comrades Talos joined the Templars of Dusk, of whom he had heard during his stay in the lands plagued by the Fey Witch, wanting to learn everything he could from the order dedicated to fighting the Fey. 10 years passed by as Talos learned at the feet of the masters of the order of Dusk but by the time he emerged once more he was now a member of the Order of the Dusk. With one clear objective in mind the newly knighted Templar made his way towards the Northern Marches, his sole objective wiping as many Fey Witches as he could and maybe, just maybe, finding the witch that had murdered his comrades and enacting vengeance for them.
MiddleEarthRoze The Ultimate Pupper
Member
Seen
5 yrs ago
Character Sheet
Username:
MiddleEarthRoze
Character Name:
Eòghan Callach
Race/Species:
Human - Kaelic
Gender:
Male
Age:
Around his mid-30's.
Career/Class:
Scholar
Skills:
Weapons:
Physical Description:
Standing at a height of 5'11", Eòghan has the typical colouring of any man from the Kaelic Isles; pale skin, blue eyes, and dirty blonde hair beginning to go grey at his temples. Said hair brushes just past his shoulders, a natural wave and sloppy past haircuts giving it a shaggy, unkempt like look when not properly tended to or tied up. Uneven blond stubble covers up a gaunt - yet handsome - looking face, high cheekbones only accentuating the hollow look to the man's cheeks; there is a near-permanent hungry look to Eòghan, despite having a build that looks well-fed. His eyes lend this idea; piercing to an almost hypnotising extent, there is a starved, predatory look hidden deep within. In hopes of not putting people off by this hunter's gaze, Eòghan attempts to offer up a disarming smile when encountering new people. At heart, he is a friendly fellow, and despite his hollow cheeks and daunting eyes, a close-lipped and dimpled smile brings forth a surprising amount of warmth to his face.
As for his build, Eòghan has the lean, wiry type of muscles that are typical of a fighter like him; he does not attack with brute strength, instead using agility and cunning to avoid injury - this tactic does not always work, as one would be able to tell from the myriad of scars criss-crossing his body. While his skin is already so pale that one could miss them at first glance, there are plenty to notice to a more scrutinising eye. Scarring from stab wounds, healed burns, bites and slash marks can be found over most of his limbs; a line runs through his scalp from a close encounter with a Furbolg's claws, and another thinner scar runs diagonal across his face, from right ear to lower left jaw.
Armor:
Eòghan's armour consists of the lightest leather he could find on the market; more concerned with speed and agility than actual protection, the dark leather doublet has padded protection only at the pauldrons and bracers attached to his gloves. With greaves being too heavy for the nimble-footed man, Eòghan elected for leather jodhpurs instead, adding knee-length leather boots and laced leather plates to protect his thighs and shins. Finding helmets too distracting, he wears a leather hood; this paired with a face cowl and high neck of his doublet, most of his pale skin is covered up for combat, allowing him to melt into the shadows with more ease.
Equipment/Other
Mental Description/Personality:
If one were to come into contact with Eòghan, it wouldn't take long for you to discover that he was a man of few words, for the most part. Being an individual who prefers the quiet over noise, he isn't one to waste several minutes of talk when he can get what needs to be said across in a few words; as such, he isn't one for conversation when you first meet him. However, such protected speech can ease up the more one gets to know him... or if he's interested in getting something out of you. For such a quiet man, Eòghan can have quite the silver tongue when it comes to easing information out of somebody, getting a discount in a shop, or simply persuading a farmer to lend his barn to him for shelter against the wintry night. Such courtesies he will lend to his friends and companions, should he have any at the time.
Being a solitary soul, Eòghan is not one to make friends fast - but those who he does open up to has his trust and his compassion, no matter how dark their past may seem. He is a firm believer in second chances, and as such, has a hard time believing that some people are far from being saved. This unrealistic hopefulness in people has caused his harm more than once, but Eòghan has not dropped this philosophy. If he can be saved, then anybody can. This compassion lends itself to his charity, and his empathy for the poor, down-trodden, or simply lost souls - he has no care for material goods beyond what he needs to survive and to help others with; money and food is shared as often as he can manage, and he will always pray for those who need it. While not a priest of Bael, he is a devout follower of He and the other Gods - their faith can cleanse all, and Eòghan will pursue that believe until death takes him.
Goals:
Find the cure for Vampirism, and save all people who have lost their way under that foul curse... or die trying.
Background/History:
Eòghan was born in the Kaelic Isles to a native Druid father and Arcanist Mother from Andred. The third child and last son of their clan, Eòghan was expected to follow in his father and brother's footsteps from a very young age; learn the way of Druidic magick, probably go to another clan to offer his services, marry some Chief's daughter, and carry on his family's name. A simple enough life... but Eòghan was unsure of such a thing. He preferred the life his Mother offered to he and his younger sister Aife; that of a life under the sun of Andred, learning to help those these and spread the word of the Evergod and the Andred Pantheon. The prospect of travel was tantalising to the young Eòghan, and he was soon dreaming of that far-away land and his possible future there. He did not care that the very nation that his mother came from was attacking the Kaelic Isles; he did not share the savage patriotism that his father had, and although joining his clan and others in attacks against their supposed invaders, he wished beyond anything that he could join them on their retreating ships.
As time passed, this dream of getting away from his overbearing father began to dwindle. Aife was married off to a neighbouring clan, and a fiance was arranged for Eòghan - he did not know the woman, and while fair beyond anything to look at, he could not find any love in his heart for her. As his wedding fast approached, news from Aife's clan reached his mother and him; Aife was with child, but the babe did not belong to her betrothed. A visiting merchant from Praelior had wooed her, and after a wine-soaked night in his tent, he left the Isles with his money, and her heart. That was to be the end of it, until her discovery about the conception. With her lover having had such dark skin, the baby was bound to show remnants of it upon being born... and then both of them would be thrown to the wilds for her adultery - or simply killed outright. The dream that Eòghan's mother had wished for came back, and the trio arranged to find a boat to take them away from the Isles before Aife's affair was discovered.
And their plan worked. Not a month before Aife's babe was due, travel was arranged from the Isles to Bania - Eòghan's mother knew the way after having made the journey once before, when she had first come to those lands and fallen in love. After choosing a particularly calm night, the three made their getaway in the dark. No call from guards came out, and the island swiftly went out of sight - the people there wouldn't dare to cross the ocean simply to retrieve people, and they would be foolish to try without knowing the waters. Even with only one trip years ago, Eòghan's mother knew the treachery of the Shrouded Sea better than most. They were safe, and they would be able to start a new life in Andred, the sunny place they had dreamed of for so long.
But as is common with dreams, they tend to end rather abruptly. Eòghan and his family hadn't been in the forests of Bania for more than two days before being attacked - not by a horde of ogres or a pack of Werewolves like they had feared... just one Vampire. A young one, at that; surrounded by several corpses of hunters, their dogs laying drained of blood next to them and an injured deer laying still as could be... as if hoping that it's lack of movement would ward the predator away. Eòghan had been young at that time, young and foolish - "It's just one vampire", he had told himself as he approached, sword drawn and pointing towards the hunched back of the beast, still suckling on the neck of it's prey. "Just one."
The first attack was so quick, Eòghan hadn't even realised the leech had moved; but his sword was now laying ten feet away from him, a spray of blood accompanying it to the ground. Eyes travelling to his hand, a gaping wound lay upon his arm, blood pumping out to the rhythm of his heartbeat. From there, Eòghan could always recall every agonising moment that passed; so quick and blurred at the time, but at the same time, it was so damned slow. More frenzied attacks from the rabid vampire before him, face contorted into such a disgusting visage that there didn't seem to be any remnant of human within anymore. As Eòghan fell to the ground, the screams of his sister met his ears, and watching on from where he lay, he witnessed his mother and sister be ripped apart. Any spells his mother had cast were either flung so frantically that they missed it's mark, or were simply shrugged off by the mindless vampire. Her throat was cut so deeply her head swung backwards, a sickening attempt of a beheading that ended her life instantly. Eòghan had envy for her there; not much pain... not having to see what the vampire did to his sister next. She was defenceless, and almost as if the vampire could sniff the babe within her, attacked her swollen stomach. The precious life they had sought to save by fleeing their home was ripped from her womb before the eyes of both Eòghan and Aife, blood and gore spattering the floor as she fell to the ground, the vampire descending upon her destroyed body and swallowing all it could, the discoloured foetus still dangling from it's grip. Before he succumbed to darkness, Eòghan could see the growing pool of blood beneath him... and with the last thing in his mind before passing out, he realised with a broken heart that the child had been a little girl. The very thing Aife had hoped for.
When Eòghan awoke, he was both surprised and deflated to realise that he was alive. After having been rescued by Banian natives and nursed back to health, he could not help but feel anger towards them. Why had he been saved, just for his family to die before him? Every time he closed his eyes he saw their deaths, and it was a truly torturous way to live. Life became empty, and Eòghan took to wandering around Bania, spending money on nought but alcohol and a cheap bed to spend the night in some backwater village. His faith in the Gods disappeared, replaced by anger and blame at what had occurred. This continued for some time, only he came across what is now his closest friend; Mallow Rithis, a hunter of vampires and belonging to the Order of the Bloodied Cross. Eòghan had heard of them, and their concerning methods of hunting and killing vampires. He felt it was a sign - to come across such a stoic killer of the things he hated the most, during a time where Eòghan wanted nothing more than to have died at the hands of a leech. The two fellows met with one another, and with nothing better to do, Eòghan travelled with Mallow for some time, watching him as he worked. Looking at it from a different perspective, Eòghan realised that the vampires who were simply turned for no reason at all were just lost souls... they didn't ask for such a life.
After this realisation, Eòghan's faith and hope for life returned. Why kill vampires when you could find a cure for them, put them back onto the path of their Gods and they could die as devout as they were when they were mortal? He knew that's what he would want, and if he could atone for his sins of debauchery and laziness in the past, this was the way to do it. Find a cure, and help those afflicted - this way, other's wouldn't have to lose family the way he did.
Username:
MiddleEarthRoze
Character Name:
Eòghan Callach
Race/Species:
Human - Kaelic
Gender:
Male
Age:
Around his mid-30's.
Career/Class:
Scholar
Skills:
- Expert - Acrobatics
- Expert - Stealth
- Journeyman - Athletics
- Journeyman - Hunting
- Journeyman - One-Handed Blades
- Adept - Speechcraft
- Adept - Intelligence
- Adept - Ancient Languages (Ancient Praelian, Old Northern)
- Adept - Light Armour
Weapons:
- 2 Steel short-swords
- Hunting Knife
- Silver dagger
Physical Description:
Standing at a height of 5'11", Eòghan has the typical colouring of any man from the Kaelic Isles; pale skin, blue eyes, and dirty blonde hair beginning to go grey at his temples. Said hair brushes just past his shoulders, a natural wave and sloppy past haircuts giving it a shaggy, unkempt like look when not properly tended to or tied up. Uneven blond stubble covers up a gaunt - yet handsome - looking face, high cheekbones only accentuating the hollow look to the man's cheeks; there is a near-permanent hungry look to Eòghan, despite having a build that looks well-fed. His eyes lend this idea; piercing to an almost hypnotising extent, there is a starved, predatory look hidden deep within. In hopes of not putting people off by this hunter's gaze, Eòghan attempts to offer up a disarming smile when encountering new people. At heart, he is a friendly fellow, and despite his hollow cheeks and daunting eyes, a close-lipped and dimpled smile brings forth a surprising amount of warmth to his face.
As for his build, Eòghan has the lean, wiry type of muscles that are typical of a fighter like him; he does not attack with brute strength, instead using agility and cunning to avoid injury - this tactic does not always work, as one would be able to tell from the myriad of scars criss-crossing his body. While his skin is already so pale that one could miss them at first glance, there are plenty to notice to a more scrutinising eye. Scarring from stab wounds, healed burns, bites and slash marks can be found over most of his limbs; a line runs through his scalp from a close encounter with a Furbolg's claws, and another thinner scar runs diagonal across his face, from right ear to lower left jaw.
Armor:
Eòghan's armour consists of the lightest leather he could find on the market; more concerned with speed and agility than actual protection, the dark leather doublet has padded protection only at the pauldrons and bracers attached to his gloves. With greaves being too heavy for the nimble-footed man, Eòghan elected for leather jodhpurs instead, adding knee-length leather boots and laced leather plates to protect his thighs and shins. Finding helmets too distracting, he wears a leather hood; this paired with a face cowl and high neck of his doublet, most of his pale skin is covered up for combat, allowing him to melt into the shadows with more ease.
Equipment/Other
- Travelling cloak
- Spare clothes
- Bronze ring with his clan insignia upon it
- Relic of the Evergod, fashioned into a necklace
- Flask of rum
- Bedroll
- Coil of rope, for trappings
- Tinderbox
- Journal; for his language studies
- Ink and pot
- Pipe and Tobacco
Mental Description/Personality:
If one were to come into contact with Eòghan, it wouldn't take long for you to discover that he was a man of few words, for the most part. Being an individual who prefers the quiet over noise, he isn't one to waste several minutes of talk when he can get what needs to be said across in a few words; as such, he isn't one for conversation when you first meet him. However, such protected speech can ease up the more one gets to know him... or if he's interested in getting something out of you. For such a quiet man, Eòghan can have quite the silver tongue when it comes to easing information out of somebody, getting a discount in a shop, or simply persuading a farmer to lend his barn to him for shelter against the wintry night. Such courtesies he will lend to his friends and companions, should he have any at the time.
Being a solitary soul, Eòghan is not one to make friends fast - but those who he does open up to has his trust and his compassion, no matter how dark their past may seem. He is a firm believer in second chances, and as such, has a hard time believing that some people are far from being saved. This unrealistic hopefulness in people has caused his harm more than once, but Eòghan has not dropped this philosophy. If he can be saved, then anybody can. This compassion lends itself to his charity, and his empathy for the poor, down-trodden, or simply lost souls - he has no care for material goods beyond what he needs to survive and to help others with; money and food is shared as often as he can manage, and he will always pray for those who need it. While not a priest of Bael, he is a devout follower of He and the other Gods - their faith can cleanse all, and Eòghan will pursue that believe until death takes him.
Goals:
Find the cure for Vampirism, and save all people who have lost their way under that foul curse... or die trying.
Background/History:
Eòghan was born in the Kaelic Isles to a native Druid father and Arcanist Mother from Andred. The third child and last son of their clan, Eòghan was expected to follow in his father and brother's footsteps from a very young age; learn the way of Druidic magick, probably go to another clan to offer his services, marry some Chief's daughter, and carry on his family's name. A simple enough life... but Eòghan was unsure of such a thing. He preferred the life his Mother offered to he and his younger sister Aife; that of a life under the sun of Andred, learning to help those these and spread the word of the Evergod and the Andred Pantheon. The prospect of travel was tantalising to the young Eòghan, and he was soon dreaming of that far-away land and his possible future there. He did not care that the very nation that his mother came from was attacking the Kaelic Isles; he did not share the savage patriotism that his father had, and although joining his clan and others in attacks against their supposed invaders, he wished beyond anything that he could join them on their retreating ships.
As time passed, this dream of getting away from his overbearing father began to dwindle. Aife was married off to a neighbouring clan, and a fiance was arranged for Eòghan - he did not know the woman, and while fair beyond anything to look at, he could not find any love in his heart for her. As his wedding fast approached, news from Aife's clan reached his mother and him; Aife was with child, but the babe did not belong to her betrothed. A visiting merchant from Praelior had wooed her, and after a wine-soaked night in his tent, he left the Isles with his money, and her heart. That was to be the end of it, until her discovery about the conception. With her lover having had such dark skin, the baby was bound to show remnants of it upon being born... and then both of them would be thrown to the wilds for her adultery - or simply killed outright. The dream that Eòghan's mother had wished for came back, and the trio arranged to find a boat to take them away from the Isles before Aife's affair was discovered.
And their plan worked. Not a month before Aife's babe was due, travel was arranged from the Isles to Bania - Eòghan's mother knew the way after having made the journey once before, when she had first come to those lands and fallen in love. After choosing a particularly calm night, the three made their getaway in the dark. No call from guards came out, and the island swiftly went out of sight - the people there wouldn't dare to cross the ocean simply to retrieve people, and they would be foolish to try without knowing the waters. Even with only one trip years ago, Eòghan's mother knew the treachery of the Shrouded Sea better than most. They were safe, and they would be able to start a new life in Andred, the sunny place they had dreamed of for so long.
But as is common with dreams, they tend to end rather abruptly. Eòghan and his family hadn't been in the forests of Bania for more than two days before being attacked - not by a horde of ogres or a pack of Werewolves like they had feared... just one Vampire. A young one, at that; surrounded by several corpses of hunters, their dogs laying drained of blood next to them and an injured deer laying still as could be... as if hoping that it's lack of movement would ward the predator away. Eòghan had been young at that time, young and foolish - "It's just one vampire", he had told himself as he approached, sword drawn and pointing towards the hunched back of the beast, still suckling on the neck of it's prey. "Just one."
The first attack was so quick, Eòghan hadn't even realised the leech had moved; but his sword was now laying ten feet away from him, a spray of blood accompanying it to the ground. Eyes travelling to his hand, a gaping wound lay upon his arm, blood pumping out to the rhythm of his heartbeat. From there, Eòghan could always recall every agonising moment that passed; so quick and blurred at the time, but at the same time, it was so damned slow. More frenzied attacks from the rabid vampire before him, face contorted into such a disgusting visage that there didn't seem to be any remnant of human within anymore. As Eòghan fell to the ground, the screams of his sister met his ears, and watching on from where he lay, he witnessed his mother and sister be ripped apart. Any spells his mother had cast were either flung so frantically that they missed it's mark, or were simply shrugged off by the mindless vampire. Her throat was cut so deeply her head swung backwards, a sickening attempt of a beheading that ended her life instantly. Eòghan had envy for her there; not much pain... not having to see what the vampire did to his sister next. She was defenceless, and almost as if the vampire could sniff the babe within her, attacked her swollen stomach. The precious life they had sought to save by fleeing their home was ripped from her womb before the eyes of both Eòghan and Aife, blood and gore spattering the floor as she fell to the ground, the vampire descending upon her destroyed body and swallowing all it could, the discoloured foetus still dangling from it's grip. Before he succumbed to darkness, Eòghan could see the growing pool of blood beneath him... and with the last thing in his mind before passing out, he realised with a broken heart that the child had been a little girl. The very thing Aife had hoped for.
When Eòghan awoke, he was both surprised and deflated to realise that he was alive. After having been rescued by Banian natives and nursed back to health, he could not help but feel anger towards them. Why had he been saved, just for his family to die before him? Every time he closed his eyes he saw their deaths, and it was a truly torturous way to live. Life became empty, and Eòghan took to wandering around Bania, spending money on nought but alcohol and a cheap bed to spend the night in some backwater village. His faith in the Gods disappeared, replaced by anger and blame at what had occurred. This continued for some time, only he came across what is now his closest friend; Mallow Rithis, a hunter of vampires and belonging to the Order of the Bloodied Cross. Eòghan had heard of them, and their concerning methods of hunting and killing vampires. He felt it was a sign - to come across such a stoic killer of the things he hated the most, during a time where Eòghan wanted nothing more than to have died at the hands of a leech. The two fellows met with one another, and with nothing better to do, Eòghan travelled with Mallow for some time, watching him as he worked. Looking at it from a different perspective, Eòghan realised that the vampires who were simply turned for no reason at all were just lost souls... they didn't ask for such a life.
After this realisation, Eòghan's faith and hope for life returned. Why kill vampires when you could find a cure for them, put them back onto the path of their Gods and they could die as devout as they were when they were mortal? He knew that's what he would want, and if he could atone for his sins of debauchery and laziness in the past, this was the way to do it. Find a cure, and help those afflicted - this way, other's wouldn't have to lose family the way he did.
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