Name:
Attor Snakeslayer

Rank:
Watcher

Appearance:
Mice have many enemies. Their foes come in any number of shapes and sizes. Great and small, from the tiniest shrew upstart to the vicious serpent monsters that tower above them, Mice have many enemies indeed. The greatest of these, though, is one often forgotten. Young mice in particular worry more about rats, weasels and lizards; they don't remember that foe of foes until their whiskers are long and their paws are wrinkled. Only in the final whispers of their years do Mice tend to turn their eye on the enemy that takes more Mice than all the rest.

That enemy, of course, is time.

And Attor knows it well.

Time's claws have worn him down. They have scratched, cut and bitten until that once proud soul is little more than a shadow of his former self, though the mouse would never admit it. His ugly coat, once black as midnight, now lies across his back matted, discolored and dirty. Eyes of unbreakable steel that once stared death in the face with unblinking courage have dulled and quieted, like the edge of an overused blade.

That was what Attor was, in truth: an old sword that'd seen one too many battles.

His right ear is torn; chipped like the brittle edge of a rusted dagger. His whiskers are long and droopy, nearly brushing against the ground when Attor goes to sit.

The marks of war and violence are prevalent across him, to the point where one would be hard-pressed to mark Attor as anything but an old soldier. Scars adorn most of his coat and body, from cuts to poorly healed burns and everything in-between. The worst of these injuries is a long, gnarly tear across his right forearm. A rat's blade tasted deep in his flesh many a moon ago, and Attor has had trouble opening that paw ever since. He was forced to relearn how to use both quill and sword with his left arm, though it's hard to tell he's not a natural lefty given how long ago that was.

Even the Snakeslayer's cloak has not aged well. Once bright like polished bronze, his mentor had remarked that Attor was more weasel than mouse, such was his slipperiness and savagery. Both of those traits have been worn down to the nub, much like the coloring of his cloak. Old bones don't dip and dive as they used to, and Attor finds little satisfaction in bloodshed anymore. His cloak is torn and discolored, covered in rough, self-made patches to keep it from falling apart. He's in dire need of a replacement, though the mouse would rather die than replace the last thing his master ever gave him.

Personality:
Attor Snakeslayer is the best storyteller in all the Kingdoms of Gnaw. Or so he would have you believe. He's had a fondness for stories since he was but a mere boy, sparked first by the tales his father would read to him before bed. Even as he grew older, stronger and wiser, Attor never lost that love, though there were fewer and fewer stories that he hadn't heard before.

So he decided to make his own.

It was easiest to find stories among the Redwatch. They were something of a living legend to Attor. And in their midst he decided to craft his own legend. He wasn't very good at it in the beginning, as all orators, writers and would-be tale-weavers can attest to. But he sharpened his verse and widened his expressions through the years, crafting newer and better tales as he went out and lived them for himself. That was how he came by his title: Snakeslayer. It was a story he'd gotten quite good at telling. Attor always attested to it's truth, though many called him a liar for it. They tried to mock him with that name, but Attor wore it with pride.

As time had helped him develop the art of speaking, so too it had worn down Attor's luster. For every tale he brought back of a vicious battle against the rats, or of a personal squabbled settled on the edge of a dagger, Attor's shoulders grew a little heavier. His smile a little slighter. The change was far from instant. Many hadn't noticed anything wrong with the mouse, even as his tales grew more grim, and his demeanor more somber. At some point, Attor forgot to keep telling of heroes, victory and bombastic adventure. He forgot the stories he'd fallen in love with as a youth.

He forgot himself.

At times, usually when Attor's quite drunk, he'll lament the passing of time. He'll lament the passing of the age of heroes, yearning for a return to a simpler era. An era where the Watch made sense- when the world made sense. A time when he would march into a village and be cheered for the band he wore upon his arm instead of shied away from, like he was a leper or a cutthroat. A time when Attor felt like a hero.

But he understands that the world doesn't work that way. He's resigned himself to the cold, unbending truth that the world no longer wants the Redwatch. Westercroft thinks itself above their help, and Glendale claims not to need it. The only place Attor feels at home is in Redfield- where he's more than content to make his final bed.

Attor Snakeslayer's Attributes:

---

STR: 12 - _{The brawn of his youth hasn't diminished quite as quickly as his speed}
CON: 14 - _{Thirty years in the Watch has left Attor with plenty of scars. His mettle is well-tested}
DEX: 6 - _{His joints only work half the time; he's learned to make good use of the other half}
CHA: 12 - _{Attor has always been a friendly soul, and his love of story and song (almost) never steers him wrong}
INT: 12 - _{One of the few things he has more of now than he did in his youth is wisdom}
LUC: 6 - _{Many of Attor's close calls in the line of duty can be attributed to luck, but his black fur undercuts that idea}
REP: 3 - _{Talking plainly of the Watch's fate has destroyed much of the good-will he built up over the years}

---

Equipment:

---

Longsword: Once a finely crafted blade worthy of any Watchmouse, Attor's sword has seen better days. One too many struggles has left it ragged and old, with several chunks cut into the crossguard and hilt. Thankfully the blade itself remains whole, though Attor fears it's nearing it's breaking point. Named Ratfang for the many rodents it has cut down over the years. Two points.

Dagger: A seventh inch blade with a conservative crossguard and leather-bound hilt, Attor's dagger is his newest piece of equipment. Begrudgingly made the replacement of his old sidearm after it snapped off in a weasel's thick coat, his new knife comes practically straight from the forges. It's yet to earn a name, or truly have it's mettle tested, but the smith assured Attor of it's quality. Three points.

Traits:

---

+Encyclopedia of War: Attor's been fighting longer than many Watchmice have been alive. He's seen every battlefield a mouse could imagine, and fought every creature that preys on the Gnawer kingdoms. He knows where to best strike a snake, how to lead a Rat mob into a proper ambush, and the effective range of Weasel javelins. Knowing is half the battle, after all, and Attor's had decades to learn the ins and out of conflict.

+Old Mouse in a Young Mouse's Game: Another facet of his experience, though with a far more focused application. Many a younger, faster and stronger mouse has fallen while Attor remains. He has outlived a great many of his peers, and this fact cannot be readily ignored. Though he grows older, slower and weaker by the day, the Snakeslayer continues to rise to the challenge through one, critical factor: raw, untempered skill at arms. He's crossed blades with a hundred foes, receiving and delivering his fair share of licks through the years. Each fight he managed to walk (or crawl, as the case may be) away from was another notch on his blade. Another battle to learn from. Attor can cross swords and hold his own against anyone in the Redwatch.

-Arthritis is a Bitch: These bones have seen better days, that's for damn sure. Spending decades on the move has been hell on Attor's body, and he's slowly but surely losing more of his edge. Joint inflammation is common, especially after a particularly taxing march or fight. He lacks any real semblance of stamina, and is prone to tiring out long before an ordinary mouse would. A fight not won in thirty seconds is a fight lost for the legendary warrior.

-Traitor: A word with the power to send Attor to the hangman if it catches enough traction. His...less-than-popular political opinions have earned the mouse a great deal of ire from the Redwatch's more outspoken and zealous proponents. There are several important people that would see Attor either dismissed, silenced or- more extremely- hanged for his beliefs. His talk of disbanding the Watch threatens the very fabric of the organization, and such a divisive opinion has earned him a great deal of ire. Attor's just lucky that the label hasn't caught on quite yet, though he's painfully aware of the fact that his reputation hangs by a thread.

Trade:

---

Entertainer: An odd occupation that his parents were vocally opposed to, but ultimately what Attor was most passionate about. He was a travelling orator, writer and professional windbag. Most of what Attor did amounted to reading other, more famous mice's books to children- he would occupy their attention for hours at the behest of their parents, keeping them out of trouble for a handful of coins. Occasionally he'd get the opportunity to upgrade his audience from children to drunken adults at a tavern; that earned him more, but it turned out that drunkards had trouble following basic story structure, so most of what Attor did was tell easy, dumb jokes for a few hours.

Friend:

---

Beorn of Riverfield: A Watcher posted along the Westercroft border, and a dear friend. Attor and Beorn fought side by side against a rat incursion, bogged down in hostile territory for nine months straight. Without a supply line of any kind and scarce food, their unit was forced through the metaphorical ringer. Everyone got close. Not everyone made it out. By the time the rats were pushed back and their team reconnected with civilization, Attor and Beorn had developed an unbreakable bond. They continue to share sporadic letters to one another, and have spoken often of retiring to Glendale someday to spend their last days doing nothing but fishing for waterbugs.

Enemy:

---

Audrey of Mappleton: An aging Watcher that's seen nearly as much violence and bloodshed as Attor himself, Audrey was once a mouse that he could've called a friend. They were never extraordinarily close, but she was someone he had served with on several occasions, and a warrior that Attor believed he could count on in a tough spot. That had changed. Somewhere along the line, when the Snakeslayer's loyalties shifted, he found himself at odds with Audrey. She had always been a staunch supporter of the Redwatch, and her loyalty to the cause had seemingly only strengthened with time. The world needed the Watch more than ever now, she'd say; hearing Attor bemoan what they had become, and speak of disbanding the order she so loved, made Audrey's blood boil. She was one of the mice pushing to put Attor into an early retirement. Attor is well aware of her ire, and makes damn well sure to steer clear of her.

History:

---

Born in a tiny Redfield hamlet in the middle of nowhere, Attor felt trapped. His father had drilled into the young mouse's mind ideals of heroism and tales of grand adventure. With an imagination captured by stories, Attor set out from his village as soon as he was able. With book and song in hand he traveled throughout Redfield, honing his craft. It wasn't until he had encountered a mouse of the Watch that he aspired to join their ranks.

He hadn't proven to be a natural soldier, but Attor was a quick learner and a savage fighter. He was mentored by Vaegir of Fenhold, passing the Greenband trials by the skin of his teeth. Through Vaegir's guidance, Attor went on to serve the Redwatch faithfully for nearly thirty years. He fought every sort of enemy the Gnawers faced: weasel and rat, squirrel and rebel- Attor was even the lone survivor of a vicious battle with a Snake- earning himself a lifelong surname spoken with scorn and awe in equal measure.

Name: Morrys of Fenhold

Rank: Watchguard

Appearance: Morrys's most immediate details are his least flattering -- He is missing his tail, most of his left hand save for his thumb and forefinger, and his left leg from the knee down. His ears, which appear to have once been fairly large, are now tattered and short, and there is a serrated ring of missing fur on his torso and back where he was once picked up in a raccoon's jaw. Morrys is riddled with scars of blades meant for slashing and stabbing alike, to the point that his hairless streaks of scar tissue build up into patches of baldness. His right eye is milky white, closed halfway by a healed axe wound, while the left side of his face caves into a visible dent where he was once struck with a morningstar. Morrys's fur is gray-brown, having grown nearly white around his nose. Morrys wears a pegleg strapped to his stump with a leather binding, and has a rosey pink cloak earned for his then-pleasant boyhood demeanor, which has grown frayed and dirty where it drags behind him. To assist his movement, Morrys carries a blackthorn cudgel he is known to strike the heels of Greenbands with.

Personality: Morrys is a deeply unpleasant, if ruthlessly efficient mouse. I'll finish this later.

STR: 8
_{In his old age, Morrys has considerably weakened. As a Greenband, he was allegedly strong enough to pull a carrot from the ground.}

CON: 16
_{Morrys has been on six ranges past the spoorwall, the fourth of which he walked back to Gnaw holding his skull together, and the sixth of which he crawled back with one leg.}

DEX: 3
_{Morrys is an old mouse with one leg, one eye, no tail, seven fingers, and a penchant for pipe-smoking. You would be hard-pressed to find a watchmouse in worse shape.}

CHA: 10
_{Despite being disliked by nearly every mouse under his command, his seniority is respected enough for his orders to go unquestioned.}

INT: 16
_{For all his faults, Morrys is a pragmatic survivalist who has not stayed alive all these years through sheer chance.}

LUC: 11
_{Morrys's continued existence stands as a testament to the gods taking the good mice young and letting the cruel live into their old age.}

REP: 1
_{Over the years, Greenbands have given Morrys a dozen nicknames, none good. The three that have stuck most are Morrys the Mangy, Morrys the Mangled, and Morrys the Miserable.}

Equipment: Morrys's Cudgel - 5 Points
_{A blackthorn cudgel filled with lead at the handle. Surprisingly flexible.}

Traits: Stonefaced - No Gnawer or Gnasher can successfully intimidate Morrys.
Stonefooted - Morrys cannot swim, run, or climb.
Strong Stomach - Morrys can eat food in early stages of decay.
Greywhiskered - Morrys sees half as far as other mice.

Trade: Morrys came from a compost farm in Glendale, and has a strangely attuned knowledge of worms, flies, and other decomposers.

Friend: Matthos Mothrider, a Watch Captain who now oversees the Redfort armory, owes a life-debt to Morrys. During Matthos's first venture past the spoorwall, a ranging which had been Morrys's third, their party was set upon by a flock of magpies and split up into two trios. Matthos was eventually cornered with Watchguard Morrys, a veteran ranger, and Watcher Agnes, a fellow first-time ranger who had fallen ill early into their expedition. Knowing the magpies would be distracted with squabbling over one assured meal rather than fight for three, Morrys gave Agnes to the flock to assure his and Matthos's safe escape.

Enemy: Serana of Stormreach harbors a deep grudge against Morrys, unbeknownst to him, stemming from his refusal to dive into a river after her son who had fallen in. Serana's husband was the one to retrieve their son's body after the storm, a sight that caused him to hang himself within a fortnight. With the death of her breadwinning husband happening after she had grown too old and gray to remarry, Serana now works in a brothel in Stormreach, scheming against the Watch however she can, waiting for her paths to cross with Morrys' once more.

History: Morrys was born in Fenhold, a fishing village in north Glendale. The third son of a prominent compost farmer, Morrys came to the Watch somewhere between being a boy and a man, after quickly becoming disenchanted with a childhood of riding dung beetles and worm-herding. His young age at recruitment made him a Greenband for longer than most, making him a fully competent Watcher early into his career. Morrys has graduated ten Greenbands in his career, and has sat on the council for two Watchguard appointments. Were he not famously cruel and crippled, he would be a candidate for a position as Watch Captain.

Rank: Watcher

Appearance: Orvyn is a tall, bulky, imposing all-black mouse. His fur glows with a healthy, even sheen, and his body is always groomed and maintained to the utmost of Redwatch military regulations. His eyes are a hollow charcoal black; meeting eyes with Orvyn is a task akin to staring at an abyss. The 23-year-old mouse constantly exudes youthful discipline and energy. Orvyn is careful to compose his tall figure with straight posture at all times, and to deliver himself with well-mannered speech. His self-respect and appearance seems impeccable, but most often comes off as uptight and needlessly intimidating to those around him.

Orvyn's cape is dyed in a dark shade of purple; a nod to both his home-town's culture, and the black hue of his body.

Personality: Orvyn is outwardly stalwart and stoic, but possesses a powerfully loyal and dreamer-like inner personality. A successful life and career had become available to him due to the Redwatch's influence, and because of that, he sees the watch as the universal symbol of hope, security and service for Gnaw. He is deeply appreciative, and infallibly honored, to be among it's ranks, despite the tribulations and dangerous assignments he has been given. Orvyn is personally offended by those who voice their want of the Redwatch's discontinuation, countering with points much like;

"The neutral execution of law that the Redwatch is able to dispatch is invaluable, and presents a needed aura of absolute security and justice over Gnaw. To disband that, would mean relinquishing the land to both natural threats, and likely political violence."

Many of Orvyn's thoughts and actions follow such a suit. He can be stubborn and unyielding in his belief of many "righteous" causes, and has been known to be a rather staunch traditionalist. He most drastically agrees with the theory that mice were the force solely capable of founding the Gnaw civilization, and thus, harbors racial distaste for other non-mice species within Gnaw.

Nevertheless, Orvyn is honest and loyal when such is earned, and nurtures a well of hope for Gnaw that many other mice in this trying time may not have. He greatly values the lives he's sworn to protect, and possesses an unwavering set of morals. He is civil, controlled, and yet has a mind set like an iron vault; ideas that contradict what he's experienced seem foreign, and he believes people to be more capable of good than they really are. The life of a Redwatch has not broken him, but instead indoctrinated him.


STR: 16
^{'Orvyn's already large western physique has been further tempered by a life of physically challenging occupations.'}
CON: 12
^{'Orvyn, being a rather youthful and ambitious watcher, is an untapped well of physical stamina and perseverance.'}
DEX: 5
^{'Orvyn is about as agile as a bulky mouse his size can be.'}
CHA: 8
^{'Though not the best at speech-craft, Orvyn is both confident and well-spoken, lending himself to a certain steely charm.'}
INT: 7
^{'Though Orvyn does possess quality schooling and a vocabulary larger than the average mouse's, complex situations and problems can sometimes be confusing.'}
LUC: 7
^{'Luck showed Orvyn to the Redwatch; it's an old friend of his.'}
REP: 10
^{'Within the Redwatch, Orvyn is a well-liked figure known for his courageous deeds, sense of justice, and faithfulness to his role as a Watcher.}

Equipment:
★ "Hill Cleaver" (2 Pts) A long sword crafted in Redfort, and bought by Orvyn when he began training. Has a few knicks and tarnishes on it, but it still works like a charm.

★ "Western Plate" (3 Pts) A well-crafted piece of armor given to Orvyn by his mentor. It is hardy, large, and trust-worthy just like it's bearer. It is comprised of a thick breastplate and two pauldrons, built from sturdy steel parts. It has been worn and used, but it still keeps it's durability.

Traits:
Positive:
★ Image of Justice: Absolution radiates from Orvyn's stares, and it is toxic to those with a guilty conscience. A confession can shortly follow.

★ True Moral Compass: Orvyn's morals are set in stone. No convincing nor bribery can waver him from his path to enact that which is right.

Negative:
★ Judgemental Nature: Shrews and other foreign non-mice races in Gnaw know when they're being judged, and Orvyn is obvious in his dislike. Not much trust can blossom from that interaction.

★ Blind Obedience: The Redwatch is a near perfect beacon of hope to Orvyn, and such a view is hard to challenge. Almost all ideas and testimonies against the Redwatch are disregarded by Orvyn, unless he sees the dysfunctional happenings for himself.

Trade: Before beginning his journey as a Watcher, Orvyn was a miner in the western mining settlement of Nightshire. The mining operations were there to extract a chalky purple substance used in clothe dyes and festival decorations; most prominently shipped to Redfield. Strenuous and cold working conditions toughened up both Orvyn and his six other brothers.

Friend: Putnam the Impressive
Putnam was Orvyn's past mentor, and is known for his martial prowess and quality training of new Watchers. Both Orvyn and Putnam are good friends and possess much in common, such as their stocky builds and faith in the Redwatch's service. Putnam is a red mouse slightly shorter than his ex-pupil, sporting many scars from battle and an eyepatch over his destroyed left eye. The Watchguard still has a good sense of humor, however, and loves to laugh about his adventures and intrigues across Gnaw. He believes his student to be a little too uptight for even his tastes, but he never brings it up.

Enemy: Nak-Took the Disgraced
Nak-Took is a large, grey and white spotted rat once known for being the scourge of eastern Gnaw. The warrior-queen would lead her small clan on frequent, savage raids upon Glendale cities and towns, and she was most infamous for being able to withstand more Bloodspore doses than any other rat in her enclave. These ferocious ambushes were soon cut short with the arrival of Putnam's detachment, however. Upon finding Nak-Took and her sleeping clan, the Redwatch executed a full-on assault to surprise and drive the rats from the area. Orvyn was part of the charging front line, and managed to best Nak-Took in melee combat. Presumed dead, the savage queen was taken outside the spoorwall to decompose. However, the now clan-less rat leader woke up to find herself beaten, alone, and with her right arm inoperable. She now prowls the edge of Gnaw in pursuit of the mouse that denied her both her status, and glorious after-life.

History: Orvyn was born and raised as a serf in Nightshire, mining as his father had and his grandfather had. Soon, it became apparent to the black mouse that his life would be spiral down into endless physical labor due to the poverty of his family, and his lack of present opportunity. He would be trapped at the lowest level of society, and never amount to any meaningful success. He would always stay unfulfilled.

However, with the arrival of a group of Redwatch in his area, Orvyn suddenly saw a gleam of light piercing the thick clouds. Being a Watcher would entail more pay for both Orvyn, and his impoverished family. Not to mention the service he would do to all families similar to his. The warnings of his loved ones fell on deaf ears; the danger meant nothing if he could become something greater than his father, and the Redwatch would provide that. Training under Putnam, Orvyn slowly but surely became a capable Watcher, learning to read, write, and speak correctly along the way. Orvyn, for all he knows, owes everything he's ever accomplished to the Redwatch.

Name: Galan of Splittree, of Glendale

Rank: Watcher

Appearance:

A brown mouse with bright eyes. Though he longer makes his permanent home in the trees of the Glen, his coat retains an oily shine common to the mice from there. His distinguishing feature is the distinctive flare of his ears, as if he is always at attention. Galan has received his red cloak, the color chosen because his mentor noted that Galan, though still just a green band at the time, would tell every mouse he could that he was a Redwatch mouse, and the cloak would save him the trouble. However, Galan has only recently graduated into the ranks of the Watchers, and he still has a bit of water behind his ears.

Personality:

Galan is a partisan, a trait that is perhaps undesirable in a member of the Redwatch, though he thinks that partisanship is exactly what the Redwatch needs. He believes himself to have a lively intellect and spends his free time reading historical tracts. His reading has only deepened his already zealous loyalty to the Redwatch, seeing it to be the fragile string that binds the disparate mice kingdoms together.

Galan's village is carved into a large tree which had its heartwood exposed by lightning long ago, making the structures especially hardy. As a child, he was impressed that those mice that came before were able to eke out their living, even thrive, in a world that was even more full of danger than the one he knew. He grew up on stories of these and others of the first Glen mice, of the hardscrabble settlers who came and went, and especially of the militia of the Redfort. It was they who had made his village possible, and so he felt he owed them homage.

With the values he had learned from these stories, Galan found the current carelessness of the mice of the Glen, their easy acceptance that this was as it has always been and will be, baffling. He believed that the way the mice lived their lives could rupture at any time, and he watched with awe the local Redwatch members who fought to prevent that.

So when Galan came of age and could decide for himself what to do, where to go was never in question; he left for the Redfort with a wish to be part of something greater. It was there that he learned to read and write. Though he had the aptitude to be a scribe, Galan insisted on training as a Watcher. It was during this time that Galan learned of the frequent incursions into mice lands, the chipping away of the Westercroft. But he also learned of the suspicion that accompanied a Redwatch member wherever one went and the belief, shared even by some in the ranks, that the time of the Redwatch should come to an end. It was then that Galan understood that mice society as it now existed would eventually, and must, end.

Though Galan is loyal to the Redwatch, his loyalty to the monarch of Redfield, let alone the nobles of the other kingdoms, is questionable; he feels that their luxurious lifestyles is what insulates them from understanding the consequences of what is to come and their jealous suspicions to defend their noble titles are what prevent the people of Gnaw from being greater than what they are. He keeps that close to the coat, however.

Galan is confident, but protective of his pride. Though he is generous to friends, he can hold a grudge for far too long. He devours ideas, though one could say it's ideas that devour him.

Stats

STR: 10 _{Not the strongest among mice, but no slouch either.}
CON: 12 _{Galan can take a hit or two. Falling off Glen trees every once and a while hardens a body.}
DEX: 7 _{This is why Galan sometimes fell off of Glen trees.}
CHA: 9 _{Not naturally charismatic, Galan makes up for it with a fiery temper and will.}
INT: 15 _{Galan's innate intelligence has been honed by both training and study.}
LUC: 7 _{Something has kept Galan in the Redwatch ranks long enough to earn his cloak.}
REP: 5 _{Redwatch opinions on Galan are mixed. Though his loyalty is undoubted, many are suspicious of Galan's zealousness.}

Equipment:

Winged spear [3]
_{A Redfort-made spear of good iron and hardy ash. It is of quality make, adequate for the job and with little in the way of frills. It is a a little longer than a mouse is tall, with a crossguard of two short metal lugs below a long blade. It's the kind of weapon a mouse wants when facing something larger, which many things are.}
Knife [2]
_{More of a tool than a weapon. It is a short, functional knife. Besides it's other uses, Galan mainly uses it to whittle or write.}

Traits:

Partisan
_{When Galan argues for something he believes in, you can hear the force of will in his words, which makes him just that much more persuasive.}
Solidarity
_{Galan feels stronger having those he trusts at his side, moreso the more allies there are.}
Grudging
_{When working with those he distrusts or dislikes, Galan feels that much more unlucky.}
Prideful
_{If there's one thing Galan cannot stand, it's being condescended to. Galan is exceptionally undiplomatic towards anyone who thinks themselves to be Galan's better.}

Trade: apprentice carpenter. As woodworking was a much needed occupation in the woods of the Glen, Galan learned the basics of the trade before leaving for the Redwatch.

Friend: Margaret of Stonedun, Galan's former mentor and a veteran of the Westercroft incursions. She is a patient, no-nonsense mouse. Most importantly to Galan, she didn't immediately drum him out of the Redwatch when he told her about his ideas based on what he had been reading. Instead, she encouraged Galan to keep up with his studies. She's tight-lipped about her own beliefs, but Galan knows he can count on her as a respected voice inside the Redwatch.

Enemy: Edwin of Redbrook, a mouse that joined the Redwatch around the same time Galan did. Edwin joined for the promise of rank and advancement, and has connections with the Redfield nobiliity. The two disliked each other upon their first meeting, as Galan clashed immediately with the haughty way Edwin carried himself and it showed. However, Edwin is not without talent; if given promotion and opportunity, Edwin can certainly stand in Galan's way.

History: Galan was born in Splittree to a large family of six siblings, with whom he is not especially close. He apprenticed to a carpenter when he was young, though he preferred listening to the village elders' stories. Upon reaching the age of maturity he left his village and joined the Redwatch.

Name: Skye of Daggerpeak

Rank: Watcher

Appearance: A young, healthy but plain-looking mouse with black fur, Skye faces stigma for her fur color and her missing tail. She is tall and lean, and her nose is long and sensitive. She has small eyes - and poor vision to boot - and her ears aren't very expressive. The young mouse has a tendency to smile whether she's pleased or sad, which makes it hard to tell how she's feeling at times. Skye can look quite fierce and determined once combat begins, however, and her ears and nose are very active when she's alarmed. The volume of her lilting voice and the range of tones Skye commands is quite impressive, and she is a natural singer. The diction she uses is quite educated, though her accent is that of someone from Westercroft. Her teeth seem to have been filed.

Skye wears a hooded white cloak with silver embroidery, and she has a tartan patterned white-and-gray sash to match it. She wears a black-and-white checkered gambeson for armor and carries a halberd - her former mentor's halberd - as her weapon of choice. She does keep a very small knife and a few pouches to carry useful things on her sash, however. She also makes certain to bring her lyre with her wherever she goes.

Personality: As the beloved adopted daughter of minor Westercroft nobles, Skye has been afforded some small luxury in her life. But for a noble, she's rather mindful of the plights of the commoners, and is quite vocal in regards to the need for the Watchers to protect everyone they can.

Skye's mentor, Baldric, died fighting for what he believed in. Though only recently graduated into the rank of Watcher, Skye does her best to honor her mentor's memory. He was honorable, brave, and never stopped adhering to his stringent code of dignity and justice for all. It is a lofty memory to dedicate herself to, but Skye nevertheless wants to be as much like her tutor and dearest friend as she can.

Those that know the young Watcher well would call her passionate. She speaks her mind openly, and denounces injustice where she sees it. In fact, one might say she's too vocal, and that she's too protective of all of Gnaw's residents. She believes in the rights of all Gnawers, no matter whether they are rich or poor, of Redfield or the Glen, or even whether they are mice, shrews, or voles. It's going to get her into trouble some day. But her diction is masterful, her choice of words careful, and there is a certain finesse to her intonation and her gesticulation.

---

Skye's story is a short but sad one. Her biological parents were warriors in the service of the Lord Devlin and Lady Jasmine, minor Westercroft nobles whose charge it was to maintain the hidden mountain outpost of Daggerpeak near the borders of the Spoorwall. Unfortunately, a band of Gnashers found the fort. Her parents fought to protect their lieges, but they died in the raid, as did others. The raiders even cut off little Skye's tail as a cruel joke, as if being left an orphan wasn't cruelty enough. In honor of her parents' sacrifice, Lord Devlin and Lady Jasmine took Skye in as their own child, to be raised alongside their daughter.

The young mouse was not ungrateful for the kindness of her adopted parents (whom she loves dearly), but she nevertheless wished to make a name for herself. Her dreams were enraptured by fantasies of the heroism of the Redwatch, of mice as brave and bold as her birth parents had been. When she came of age she informed her family she would join the Redwatch. They disagreed with the notion at first, but after lengthy discussion they relented.

Skye trained hard - very hard - to be accepted into the Redwatch. She worked under Baldric of Rosewood, a noble old warrior who still believed in the mission of the Watch. She had some difficulty passing her tests due to her poor eyesight, but she proved a capable servant to the Watcher thanks to sheer determination and a canny mind. It didn't help that she was persuasive. Her mentor became quite proud of his pupil in the end, and was looking forward to giving her an appropriate cloak color.

Unfortunately, a party of rat bandits made a foray into Redfield, and Baldric was among those that went to fight them. He, Skye, and a full patrol marched out to fight them. Baldric was among those that met his demise.

Skye became a proper Watcher, but she regrets that her mentor could not be around to see her now. She hopes to prove herself worthy of her white cloak, and to be at least half the hero he was.

---

Attributes:

• STR: 9
  Skye's build isn't naturally imposing. However, she's tall, and she's trained long and hard to fight. The Watcher is stronger than she seems.
• CON: 12
  Sheer willpower and bullheadedness bolster Skye's tolerance for injury and disease. She's a tough little mouse.
• DEX: 2
  Nobody has ever called Skye graceful. Clumsy, actually, is how people describe her. Her poor eyesight is crippling at times.
• CHA: 15
  With her mastery of diction and her passionate speech, Skye makes for a skilled negotiator and orator. Might she be a leader one day?
• INT: 10
  Skye is clever to be sure, and she's quick on the uptake.
• LUC: 10
  Skye is definitely one of the Watch's luckier mice. If folks weren't prejudiced against her black fur, they might see her as a good luck charm.
• REP: 7
  While people don't trust her black fur or her missing tail, most mice in the Watch have come to accept Skye thanks to her honorable and dependable nature. Not everymouse, though. Not everymouse.

Equipment:
Weathered Halberd (3 points) - The sturdy halberd wielded by Baldric, Skye's former mentor. It is well-made and well-balanced, possessing an axe blade, a small hammer bit for a backswing, and a tall pike at the top.
Simple Gambeson (2 points) - A rather unremarkable gambeson worn for protection. The padded cloth does wonders for saving a mouse's hide, and it doesn't encumber the wearer. Some metal would be a lot sturdier, of course.

Traits:

• Vanguard
  Skye may not be the greatest of warriors, but when fighting to protect another Gnawer she becomes a far more determined and deadly combatant. She is truly selfless.
• Keen Senses
  Not many in the Watch can claim to have hearing so sharp as Skye's. She's got a good sniffer on her, too.
• Poor Vision
  Skye has incredibly poor eyesight. Some mice joke that if Skye were blindfolded she wouldn't be able to tell the difference.
• Chivalrous
  Skye will not compromise her ideals of honorable conduct and justice for all. Subterfuge, striking a downed opponent, lying - these things do not come readily to her.

Trade: As the adopted daughter of minor Westercroft nobles, Skye studied music, poetry, and martial combat. She did not have a trade, but did receive a noble's education.

Friend: Aife the Merchant
Old Aife was once just a peddler from the Glen, but now is the proud owner of no less than three trading posts located in Redfield and Glendale. She took a liking to Skye after the young Watcher went alone into a famously dangerous wood to rescue her lost grandson. She helps the brave girl financially whenever she can, supplying rations and equipment as needed, or at least offering her a cheaper price. She also tries to arrange meetings between Skye and whatever civilian official she may need to see.

Enemy: Watchguard Rowan
Rowan the One-Eyed was a pupil of Baldric's, and some say his best pupil. When he heard that Baldric had died fighting alongside some black furred, tailless girl, he knew very well who was to blame for his former mentor's death. Rowan will do his duty as one of the Redwatch first, but he will eagerly take any opportunity to exact revenge - either political or physical - on Skye. That he outranks her makes him even more dangerous.

History: As the adopted child of a Westercroft noble family, one might expect Skye to have led a sheltered life. Yet living near the Spoorwall is dangerous for everymouse, the nobility included. She learned the basics of command and combat, and she was being groomed to be a diplomat. However, she felt a calling to join the prestigious Redwatch, and she convinced her family to let her go.