Age: 35 47, with approval of the correction.
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Rank: Knight-Sergeant
Personality: As a Cleric, Lucien is bound by his prayers to heal his allies and punish his enemies in the name of the Holy one he prays to. Thus, he is deeply religious like most Templars. He despises demons, though does not mind half-bred demons, as the few he has dealt with had wished to forsake the pact that made a parent a demonic sorcerer. He tolerates Necromancers, though silently despises them, as they raise the dead to fight again. Overall, he’s a jolly individual with a stomach of steel, having once won a drinking contest by downing half-a-barrel of ale and managing to remain upright. Ask him about that, he somehow remembers the story through the drunken haze he was in. Quite vividly, as a matter of fact.
Bio: Born to a poor family in a small village far from any major city in the kingdom of Farendar, Lucien Jakorian grew up in the bubble that was his home. He lived contently, helping his father in the fields as he grew, praying faithfully to a God he knew very little of. Therefore, he assumed such an enigma to be all-powerful to have drawn such a following.
He was wrong. Around age twelve, Lucien’s village was sacked by orcs and was burned to the ground. The men were killed, the women raped, and the children sold into slavery, Jakorian was no exception. Carted away from the life he once knew, he muttered a prayer to Cadeniere, knowing only that he presided over justice.
His prayer wasn’t answered until six years later, when the encampment he had toiled in for ages was finally attacked by the Dawn Covenant. Lucien was almost killed in the aftermath, a knight nearly mistaking him for a Shriek Orphan in a cage, based solely on how badly emaciated he was. Obviously, he was not killed by his saviors, and now serves the Order faithfully, sparing the innocent and killing the monsters that once imprisoned him.
He’s slowly risen through the ranks, killing the monsters that he fears, but will never admit to it. For obvious reasons, he protects the weak, hastily running into battle where innocent victims are present, and usually expending too much energy inflicting harm on those he deems threats. On a lighter note, he loves food. He’ll eat just about anything you put in front of him.
WEAPONS Primary: Banishing Buzdygan
Secondary: Holy Talisman of Just Actions
Tertiary: Candeniere’s Crossbow
Magic: Advanced Restoration- With the Gods on his side, Lucien is a healer that has come close to mending fatal wounds. In other words, an arrow in the chest is fixable, given the slim chance that no organs were pierced and said arrow is neither barbed nor fletched properly.
OTHER-May obsessively clean his talisman if nervous about anything.
-Among the last people you want cooking for you.
-Has gone two months since last shaving.
Post Example: Lucien, having stayed more towards the castle wall through the fighting and healing the injured, looked out towards the left flank… and it was collapsing. If he was gonna bust some heads, now was the time. He muttered a quick prayer and removed his mace from the loop in his belt, raised his talisman, then bellowed a rallying cry.
“FIRST ROUND OF ALE’S ON ME FOR WHOEVER HELPS TO FORTIFY THE LEFT FLANK!” His loud voice dominated the immediate area, drawing the attention of a large band of soldiers.
Unorthodox, yes, but it worked. With the cleric leading the charge with a haphazardly large amount of excess soldier close behind, he raised his mace to the air and yelled, his gruff voice being faintly heard from even the front lines.
“ALTAIA, INVOKE ME!” He cried, then proceeded to slam the heavy end of the weapon into an oncoming creature’s face as he broke through the stagnant wall of allies, essentially killing the beast on impact. His one hope was that he had good aim today and didn’t have to save someone’s hide with a crossbow bolt.
He only had so many of the damn things, after all.
Theme Song: Drunken Lullabies, by Flogging Molly