DrRtron

Blades of the Blood Coast

The rain was a blessing from the gods.

After a week of sitting in nearly complete silence with seven strangers, only speaking when he murmured his morning and nightly prayers, the rain offered a change of pace. The only other interesting thing had been the horse breaking its leg yesterday, and that had been over and done within minutes. The rain at least offered something to distract him from the fact that his ass hurt from being in the same position for nearly days on end and to wash away the disgusting smell that had steadily grown stronger. He had already identified the trees and plants he could see around him, and what wildlife or monsters could live within them. He had already exhausted himself planning out how he would ambush this caravan with his fellow Horizon Guardsmen. There was only so many times you could identify the same tree and what would live in it, the same plants and how they could be used, or picture the commander's face and stupid mustache being pierced by a crossbow bolt.

The smell seemed to power through the rain, much to Faeril's annoyance, getting worse and worse until Fenks dropped over dead. The plague killed another. Faeril carefully moved as far away from the body as he could, waiting to be let out of the cage. No sudden movements to make their captors twitchy, but he wasn't going to be near a plague victim either, regardless of his own luck in not catching it.

Fenks hadn't seemed like he'd had long left in this world anyways, and Faeril cared more for the fact that it gave them an opportunity to step out into the rain that was falling. Faeril closed his eyes and quietly lifted his head to the sky as the blessings of the gods fell upon him. It felt good to have something wash away the filth he had accumulated. Opening his eyes and watching as they struggled to remove the corpse, he wordlessly muttered a prayer to Gaerim for Fenks' soul. He hadn't known the man, but Fenks hadn't wronged him either. That was worthy enough of a prayer for a quiet death and a happy afterlife.

All too soon they were put back into the cart, just as the rain began to fall down harder. His fingers tightened into fists and slowly relaxed as the guards shoved him into the wagon. He forced his fury at the treatment down. There wasn't anything he could do but bear their disdainful looks, unnecessary roughness, and insults. His pride was wounded, but it wasn't worth dying over. Still, he couldn't help but think how they wouldn't dare do such if he was armed and ready. They wouldn't have dared do such to a Skywatcher, these swine, much less a Horizon Guardsman. Faeril's eyebrows came down into an even deeper scowl as his back ached. He wasn't a Skywatcher anymore, or a Horizon Guardsman. He was nothing, betrayed by his family and kin.

Faeril cracked a grim smile, the first since he had been sentenced to exile by his own family a month ago, at the discomfort of the guardsmen. Let them suffer through the mud and the rain. Gaundet would reward those who did their duty without complaint and punish those who shirked their duty or whined. Such was the way of the gods.

As their scenery turned from stone to trees again and their ride became even bumpier (a punishment for his already aching ass), Faeril turned his attention back to his living companions once more. They were mostly unremarkable, but they were what he had to work with. Only two of them were certainly worth anything, the quiet human and the burrahob. Those two seemed like they had gotten their hands dirty before, and could be trusted to do it again as necessary. Not fully trusted though. Dirty hands just as easily stabbed their allies as they did their foes. The giant of a man and the one with a noble bearing had potential, but the could have also just easily been victims of regime purges. Perhaps they lacked the steel to do whatever is necessary. Hopefully they did not. Still, even the cowardly could stab their friends in the back. The woman was almost certainly useless. Faeril wished it had been her instead of Fenks who had died, but the ways of the gods were mysterious. He would have to make do. Maybe he would get lucky, and she would fall over dead just as Fenks had.

He was not so lucky and the wagon began to slow to a halt once more. Faeril waited patiently as the seconds went by, standing as they were ordered out. Finally they were going to be freed from this damned cart and let out into their exile. Or, a quiet voice whispered in the back of his mind, they were going to be executed here and there. Hidden from even the view of Magni and far from any repercussions that their deaths may bring. Faeril found himself tensing in preparation for the familiar crack of crossbows being fired. If he was to die this day, he would not go without at least one of his captors.

His mental prayers to Woegrim to grant him the strength to enact his vengeance on his captors were interrupted as the commander road up and threw the keys to their freedom on the ground. Faeril could hardly believe it. They were all gone. They were actually just going to let them go into their exile. The gods had finally decided to smile upon him again after the harsh injustice he had received at the hands of his so called family and comrades.

Faeril waited until the sneering man was fading into the mist before moving. He spat in the direction of the convoy and crouched down to pick up the keys. As he unlocked himself, he muttered prayers of thanks to Magni and his patron, Gaundet. They hadn't turned their backs on him. Freeing himself from his shackles, Faeril handed the keys to the next person and stood for a moment. He silently took it all in and stretched his arms above his shoulders for the first time in what felt like years. A weight was off of him, both physically and mentally. The past was behind him, and even though he could still feel its claws in his back, he could fully focus on his future.

Turning towards his fellow prisoners, Faeril spoke. "Now that we can talk, my name is Faeril Skywatcher of-" He paused, instinctually bringing his right hand to him and rubbing the top of it. "Well, that doesn't matter anymore. What shall I call all of you, now that we are free?" As he waited for a reply, he kept his eyes moving on the area around them. He didn't want to survive all this only to be killed by bandits or local wildlife. He would have to remember to pray to Boernegar for protection from wild animals. Maybe a sacrifice, if he could find something suitable.

Mass Effect: Kingslayer

A discord in my experience speeds communication and makes collaborations easier. I'd prefer one, but it won't ruin anything.

Blades of the Blood Coast

The NPC is now available to be seen at the bottom of the 0th post on the CS tab! Please add your character's opinion of him before you reply to my incoming post.

@POOHEAD189

Faeril and Radek should get along excellently. Or as excellently as anyone can get along with Faeril.

Mass Effect: Kingslayer

Interested, and I'm down with either advanced or Casual.

Blades of the Blood Coast

@psych0pomp

Migi and Faeril are going to bond over disliking the others more than they dislike each other. It'll be great.

Blades of the Blood Coast

Faeril Skywatcher

Faeril Skywatcher

Dwarf | 56 | Male

Appearance

Standing at four feet even and weighing 250 pounds of solid muscle, Faeril is built like a brick wall. Bald, with no jewelry to speak of, the only decorations that Faeril has are his tattoos and his beard.

These tattoos cover most of his body, from the top of his head to the top of his fingers and toes. The only noticeable exception is his back, which is covered in a massive burn scar. Anyone learned in both dwarven runes will see that most of these are prayers to Woegrim, Hildegur, Gaerim, and Gaundet. Asking for keen eyes, strong strikes, vengeance upon those who wrong him, protection from harm, and an easy death. Others are designs that Faeril found pleasing, and atop his right hand is the symbol of the Horizon Guard: A golden mask with two flames in the eyes.

Faeril takes great pride in his beard, doing his best to keep it glowing and carefully braided as best he can.

His face is almost always twisted into a scowl, thick brows coming down over his brown eyes like storm clouds. He stands like a coiled spring, seemingly always tense and ready to leap into action in a heartbeat. His movements are unconsciously careful and efficient, wasting no energy and making as little sound as possible.

Personality

Anger, bitterness, and a battered pride form the core of Faeril. He’s only just coming to terms with the fact that his exile is real, and that fact both enrages him and fills him with despair. Afraid of what he might become should the despair envelope him, he leans into the rage. In general, the fires of his fury are his shelter. When he feels fear or terror begin to take over, he hides behind anger. When his limbs become exhausted and shaking, he uses the flames of his wrath to give them new life. Fury is his strength to carry on. It is perhaps the unhealthiest way to deal with things possible, but it has kept him alive this long.

He is spiteful and selfish, only willing to help others if it helps himself. To do otherwise is to open himself up to an attack, and he isn’t about to let his guard down ever again. His bitterness at the foul turn his luck has taken has erased what little tact he has, and he is blunt to the point of rudeness or cruelty. He views it, naturally, as telling people what they need to hear even if it hurts them. In reality, he’s just a bitter person who enjoys making others feel like him.

He is distrustful of most, viewing them with suspicion and no small amount of paranoia. His perceived betrayal by his family, the ones he thought he could trust the most, has deeply damaged his capacity for trust. While he will trust specific people out of necessity, he still keeps everyone at an arm's distance, with both eyes on them.

Faeirl has no morals. There is almost no act too heinous to commit and almost no line too far to cross. For the right price or the right reason, of course.

Faeril is deeply religious, reciting prayers to his four primary gods every morning, night, and whenever their aid is needed. It brings him comfort, and a degree of calm, when he does this.

Faeril is a very patient person. After years of stalking after enemies or prey or waiting days for the right opportunity to strike, Faeril has learned the value of being able to simply wait no matter how long things take. This does not mean he is passive. When the situation calls for it, Faeril acts as soon as he is able to. But Faeril is not one to rush into any situation unnecessarily, and is perfectly comfortable waiting for opportunities.

Faeril is a fastidious cleaner. While getting dirty doesn’t bother him if the action calls for it (you’re not gonna stay clean in a fight or tracking through a rainstorm, after all) he doesn’t like staying dirty. If he has the chance to do so, he will take all the time necessary and then some to groom himself back into presentable shape. This applies to his camp area and his equipment. All must be kept clean and organized when not in use. It greatly annoys him when others are not as focused on cleanliness and organization as he is.

In general, Faeril likes when things are well organized and have an attention to detail. Clear plans, intricate art, complex games or devices all greatly please him.

Despite his many flaws, Faeril is loyal to his companions. He is willing to do his fair share of work or more, and to assist his allies in whatever way they may need. He trusts them more than others. Some will never be fully trusted, of course, but the sheer fact that they need each other makes his paranoia less.

This is mostly because he knows that if his allies are weak, hate him, or distrust him, he will bear the consequences, but these traits are nonetheless there. As such, he tries to curb his temper, barbed words, and any other actions that would infuriate or upset his companions. He needs them, just as much as they obviously need him.

Everyone else can go hang.

Background

• Profession:Elite Guardsman
• Class: Ranger
• Heritage: Low-end noble. While not wielding the wealth of a true Dwarf aristocratic family, Faeril’s family was a respected and influential warrior family.

History The Skywatcher family is an ancient family that can trace its roots all the way back to the founding of the city-state of Thundrim Thukarn. Where other family's built shops, shaped tunnels, or made laws, the Skywatchers built walls, shaped defenses, and made weapons. They spent their blood, sweat, gold, and tears to defend Thukarn from any threat that would attempt to destroy it, and without them the Thundrim surely would have been destroyed. They founded the Horizon Guard, that venerable institution that protects Thukarn to this day. They gave up most of their wealth and political influence in the name of defending the Thundrim and without them most of the Thundrim's defenses wouldn't even be made. The history of the Skywatchers is etched into every square inch of Thukarn in blood.

Or so the Skywatchers claim at the very least. Their rivals, particularly the hated Stonehands, are quick to point out that their own family's gave a great deal to build Thukarn as well. That their own family's spent blood and gold to build it up from the simple Virke it had started out as to the mighty Thundrim it was today. They are quick to point out that the Horizon Guard isn't even mostly Skywatchers, and is open to everyone. There are heroes in every family, and each one claims that their own ancient influence is the reason Thundrim Thukarn exists today. It is an open debate, which family gave the most and had the biggest hand in making Thukarn what it is today, and it will likely never be settled.

The Skywatchers have always guarded the perimeter of Thundrim Thukarn, either defending the tunnels monsters in the depths or preventing unwanted outsiders from the mountain ranges from finding their way in. The family founded the Horizon Guard to patrol and protect the Thundrim, a fact they are immensely proud of. The Skywatchers are outside of the Thundrim more than any other family, and are much more militant than any other dwarven noble family. Pride, discipline, sacrifice, and duty form the core of the Skywatchers family values.

A Skywatcher is expected to give their lives to the Thundrim. They were its original guardians, and their destiny is set from birth. There is no other path and no other choices allowed. Theirs's is to be a life of service and sacrifice, no matter what the cost is personally or to the family.

This is the family that Faeril was born into. The fierce pride and dedication, the sense of civic duty and willingness to do anything to ensure the continued existence and safety of Thukarn. He was groomed from as early an age as possible to join the Horizon Guard and defend the Thundrim. A constant refrain was pounded into his head at every available opportunity. "You must give your all to Thukarn. There is nothing more important than your protection of and service to the Thundrim. There is nothing you will not do to protect it from harm."

Over and over again until the mantra became seared into his memory, into his core being. It became essential to who he was. He even tattooed the reminder of his family into his back, the Skywatcher symbol and their family tree. It was to give him strength and pride, remembering what he stood for and how many of his ancestors stood behind him.

He joined the Horizon Guard as soon as he was able too, passing the tests with flying colors and ascending the ranks with remarkable speed. He was born to do this. It was his destiny. Whatever the Horizon Guard asked of him, he did. He stalked through the wooded mountains that surrounded the surface entrance to Thundrim Thukarn, hunting down a band of orcs that were threatening the surface trade. He held a shield wall in the dark tunnels, battling back a raid from the hated Dorcha. He hunted down and brought back criminals that tried to escape the Thundrim, alive or dead as the Council of Thukarn requested. He lead his men on expeditions to cull monsters in the tunnels or in the forests. For decades, whatever the Horizon Guard or the Council asked of him, Faeril did without question and nearly flawlessly. He was a hero throughout the Thundrim, and songs to his glory were sang in every tavern of Thukarn.

While he publicly appeared humble, Faeril reveled in the adulation and glory his successes were bringing him. Of course he should be applauded and respected for this. It was his destiny and he was seizing it far more successfully than anyone in the city. He was not seizing his destiny alone, nor without help though.

Through the blessings of Woegrim he was victorious in battle. Through the blessings of Hildegur he was protecting Thukarn and expanding its borders. Through the patronage of Gaundet his career was skyrocketing. Through the blessings of Gaerim his death was sure to be easy and well remembered. He gave praise to those four gods that clearly favoured him most constantly, with either muttered prayers or public sacrifices.

He was bringing great honor not only to the Skywatcher family, but to himself. Thukarn needed him. Without him and his family, it surely would be destroyed. He was well on his way to being the commander of the Horizon Guard, with all of the prestige and power that rank had. He was by far the best choice for the role, as surely everyone saw. With his successes, his leadership ability, and the sheer fact that his bloodline had created the organization in the first place, his ascendancy was guaranteed.

But not everyone saw his rising star as a good thing. The Stonehands, ancient blood rivals of the Skywatchers for centuries whispered accusations and rumors of Faeril's true nature. He was not the humble servant of Thukarn as he pretended to be. He was cruel, and power hungry. He desired the command of the Horizon Guard not because he was the best man for the job once the current commander died, but because it was the most power any one dwarf could have. He lusted for power and desperately desired to use it. Could Thukarn really put a dwarf like that into power? Could they really trust someone as cruel as Faeril to be just and fair?

The accusations enraged Faeril. The fact that it was all true was irrelevant. How dare they assume to know the burdens of command? How dare they question his methods of justice! How dare this family of petty house builders have the gall to get in the way of his destiny! He was a Skywatcher! Everything he did was in service of the Thundrim, and every 'cruel action' he did was in its protection!

The more Faeril heard and thought about the words of the Stonehands, the more enraged he became. They had been a thorn in the side of his family for centuries.. Every time the Skywatchers said yes, the Stonehands said no. If the Skywatchers said left, the Stonehands said right. If the Skywatchers said that iron was grey, the Stonehands would claim that iron was really brown. It was disgusting that a bunch of glorified carpenters disrespected his venerable family for so long.

There had been attempts to silence them, of course. Public duels, both in the arena of Thukarn and in the legal halls. Illegal street fights that occurred in the back alleys of the Thundrim. Assassination attempts, bribes, threats. No matter how many times the Skywatchers crushed the Stonehands like roaches beneath their boots, the Stonehands always came scuttling back to insult and degrade the Skywatchers.

Soon enough, debates and questions began to open up about if Faeril should be named successor to the commander. What once was seen as an easy decision, practically guaranteed to him upon the death of the current commander, now was in doubt. He could be denied his destiny, passed up for some inferior nobody, all because of the hateful mutterings of the Stonehands.

Faeril had finally had enough. He was going to eradicate the Stonehands once and for all. They were a threat to the unity and stability of the Thundrim. If he wasn't made commander, it would be disastrous for Thundrim Thukarn as a whole. He couldn't allow that. He wouldn't allow that. He would protect Thukarn, no matter the cost.

In the night, with a five of his most loyal supporters, Faeril snuck into the family mansion of the Stonehands. The house guards they had were no match for him and his elite warriors. They fell silently, and soon the Stonehands were left defenseless. From there, the plan went off without a hitch. Room by room, hall by hall, Faeril and his followers executed the Stonehands. There was no sounds, there were no warnings. Just silent, focused, slaughter.

Everything was going according to plan until the very end. They had found the last surviving member of the Stonehands, the head of the family, in his study. No doubt writing more slanderous lies about the Skywatchers. Before they could finish the deal, one of Faeril's compatriots knocked over a vase.

Glancing up and seeing six dwarves covered in blood, the old Stonehand reacted quickly. He threw his desk over to provide some cover and jumped out of the second story window behind him. Landing awkwardly with a cry of pain and a distinct limp he fled down the street and cried out for help from the local town guards. Faeril put a crossbow bolt through his back, finishing the job, but not before the local guardsmen were alerted. After seeing the head of the Stonehands fall dead in the street, they sounded the alarm and converged en masse on the home of the Stonehands.

Faeril and his compatriots could not escape. Cornered in the house, with no where to hide, they surrendered. Despite the panic of his compatriots, Faeril was smiling as they took him away in chains. The council and the Thundrim would see what he had done as a regrettable, but necessary action to protect Thukarn from an insidious an corrupt family. He would be publicly reprimanded, but privately hailed as a hero. His family would welcome him back a champion of Thukarn. How could they not? His actions had only been done in the name of the Thundrim. He would be out of jail by tomorrow.

Faeril was wrong.

The Thundrim and the Council were horrified by his actions. His family was disgusted to their cores. His five compatriots were immediately executed, having no influence of their own and no defense that would spare their lives. The only thing that saved Faeril was that his father couldn't bear to watch his son's death. Leveraging the considerable influence of the Skywatchers and the exemplary record of service Faeril had accrued up until this point, Faeril's father had him exiled from the North entirely. He would be given to their allies within the humans, and shipped with their criminals to lands far outside of the north. But not before the symbol of his family, and their entire family line, was burned off of his back. They were banishing him, fully and truly, and he would not be allowed to wear their mark.

Faeril almost wished he had been executed instead. The shame, disgust, fury and disappointment in his family's eyes burned him more than the flames ever could have. What had he done wrong? He had done exactly as he had been taught from day one. Exactly as had been pressed upon him from birth. Protect Thukarn, at all costs. So why was he being punished? Why was his family looking at him like a monster? What had he done wrong?

As he was being carted away from the only home he had ever known, Faeril realized the truth.

He had done nothing wrong. The Council, the Thundrim Thukarn, his own family, they had all been jealous of the blessings the gods had heaped upon him. They were afraid of his power and his will, and as such had betrayed him out of cowardice. Yes, they were afraid of what he would become if allowed to fully seize his destiny, and so they had denied him it. They were too cowardly to risk the gods wrath by killing him, so they sent him away in the hopes that he would die in some foreign land.

That is what had happened. They were afraid, and he had done nothing wrong.

Reason for Exile
Blood feud. After killing his family’s rivals, ending their bloodline and thus them as a threat once and for all, Faeril was only spared from execution by his father’s influence and his record of service to the city.

Motivation
Faeril wants power. Not to go back and forcibly retake his place among his family and his city, no. Faeril wants power out of spite. They sent him in exile to die? For doing only what was right? He’s not going to give them the satisfaction. He’s going to gain power, prestige, and wealth and they’re going to know that he not only survived their betrayals, he thrived.

Capabilities

Attributes
You've 9 to choose from. Once you do, put them in the correct area.
Combat

• Cleave and Shield
• Crossbow

Intelligence

• Bestiary
• Botany

Charisma

Health

• Toughness
• Stamina
• Strength
• Fortitude

Faculties

• Tracking
• Woodcraft
• Perception

Agility

• Stealth

Mysticism [0/1]

---

Equipment

You will leave this blank, since you are a prisoner.

• Long Knife, Odari Crossbow (40 iron bolts)
• Sturdy Cloak, Travellers Clothes
• 1 Day rations

Money

5 Silver Lordings.
5 Golden Royals

Languages

Northern.

---

Character Relationships

Emmaline Von Morganstern

A blonde human woman. Looks both weak and stupid. Pretty though, for all the good it does her here. Ideally she'll die or leave after we're out of the damned cart. I can't imagine what she's done to be here with the rest of us. Probably a scorned mistress of some noble.

After the fight with the bandits and the crashing of the dragon and the demon.

I was absolutely correct. She is both weak and stupid. Running out like that without a single gods damned thought and then kissing a bandit like it might save her. She couldn't even see the dragon and the demon even though she wasn't in the trees! Raddek and Migi should have let her die, but she's still hanging around. Maybe we'll get lucky and she'll die next fight.

Reyvadin Ismirala Vaegir

Another human, a man with a facial scar. Looks strong and like he knows how to handle himself in fight. He should be useful. Carries himself with a noble bearing that is familiar. Not that it matters anymore. Nobility is nothing to exiles and prisoners.

After the fight with the bandits and the crashing of the dragon and the demon.

Still insists upon acting like a noble, but at least he can handle himself in a fight. Took care of those bandits with us without qualms. Hopefully he's more of the 'my bloodline makes me right' noble and less of the 'I must be honorable at all times' noble.

Lorcan

Another human, a man with some elvish blood. Looks strong. Hopefully he can be useful, in spite of the seemingly constant optimism he has about him. He'll have to learn quickly, or the world will break him. Hopefully he's not here with us when that happens. Anger is in his eyes whenever he looks at me. Perhaps he hates dwarves. Perhaps he's only angry at his situation. Regardless, I can't turn my back on him.

After the fight with the bandits and the crashing of the dragon and the demon.

So he can turn into a tree! Fantastic! He also talks endlessly and yet somehow still says nothing. Held himself decently in the fight though, even if he somehow couldn't see the massive fucking dragon and demon fighting in the sky. Good enough.

Migi Blackbarrow

A halfling woman, scars across her face. Attitude practically radiating off of her. She seems the most capable of this lot. Someone willing to do whatever it takes to survive. That I can appreciate, even if she seems like a sword-tongued bitch.

After the fight with the bandits and the crashing of the dragon and the demon.

She's a sword-tongued bitch alright, but she's competent. That little trick of invisibility will be useful, and she and Raddek seem to be the only ones who really understand how desperate our situation was until we got lucky in the fight with those bandits. She's one I can rely on, to an extent.

Radek Granton

A human man, two small scars. Powerful looking, quiet. Looks like he's been in a fight or four and won't be squeamish. Good. He seems to be the most aware of how things are now. That's someone I can rely on. Not too much though. Don't want to lean on him and receive a dagger in return.

After the fight with the bandits and the crashing of the dragon and the demon.

I was correct. Handled himself well in the fight, looked after Emmaline (unfortunately) and Migi (fortunately) and he knows this area the best out of all of us. He's one to stick with, and won't do something stupid. Hopefully.

Jaina 'Jai'

Someone else who understands how this world works. Small for a human, but strong. Always carefully watching and does her fair share of work. She's taken to this much better than the others, as if she's done this before. That's more than good enough for me.

Falfer Silverhand

As if one overly talkative person wasn't enough, we have stumbled upon a second! A merchant nonetheless. He looks wildly out of place in the woods and will doubtlessly look even more out of place should we ever need him in an actual fight. He is silver tongued and smart though. That could be useful even if he doesn't know a sword from a toothpick. At least he puts effort into keeping himself and his area clean.

Francisco de le Cal Delgado

Gods above if we get one more person who doesn't know how to shut the fuck up I might just stab myself in the eye. Generic is a good word for him. I honestly can't describe him without looking at him. Another silver tongue and overly nice. Too nice. I almost want to chat with him like an old friend myself, which is concerning. Has a good ear for languages though, so if we ever need a translator he's our guy.

Which isn't comforting.

Blades of the Blood Coast

@DrRtron
Accepted! My only questions are, how long has it been since he was sentenced, because obviously his personality changed drastically if it was overnight I'd expect, and why was he sent on this human-centric wagon of exiles and wasn't sentenced by his own courts (I'd say the Thundrim was too ashamed of him but also understood his reason, so they sent him off to be dealt with by the humans)?

@POOHEAD189

Probably a month or so. And it's less that his personality changed and more that he was always terrible and only hid it because he wanted to advance his career and gain the glory, pride, honor, and admiration that came with that. The risk of losing all of that made him drop the facade of being a good person, and since he's been caught and has no reason to pretend anymore he just doesn't bother.

Excellent question. I'd say they probably had an agreement with the humans and wanted to banish him as far away as possible so shipped him away on the same cart they were shipping their own criminals away.

Blades of the Blood Coast

@DrRtron

What a coincidence, Reyvadin too is from an esteem bloodline that has now been disgraced and thus sent into exile into a land where his nobility carries little to no weight.

@Lucius Cypher

They can bond over it together!

Blades of the Blood Coast

@LostDestiny Seems like we all have a brothel connection :P

@Penny

Speak for yourself. Faril will have to know that he comes from the noblest of dwarven bloodlines and that fact is obviously very important now that he's been disgraced and exiled into a land that doesn't even know his family name. :P

Blades of the Blood Coast

Faeril Skywatcher

Faeril Skywatcher

Dwarf | 56 | Male

Appearance

Standing at four feet even and weighing 250 pounds of solid muscle, Faeril is built like a brick wall. Bald, with no jewelry to speak of, the only decorations that Faeril has are his tattoos and his beard.

These tattoos cover most of his body, from the top of his head to the top of his fingers and toes. The only noticeable exception is his back, which is covered in a massive burn scar. Anyone learned in both dwarven runes will see that most of these are prayers to Woegrim, Hildegur, Gaerim, and Gaundet. Asking for keen eyes, strong strikes, vengeance upon those who wrong him, protection from harm, and an easy death. Others are designs that Faeril found pleasing, and atop his right hand is the symbol of the Horizon Guard: A golden mask with two flames in the eyes.

Faeril takes great pride in his beard, doing his best to keep it glowing and carefully braided as best he can.

His face is almost always twisted into a scowl, thick brows coming down over his brown eyes like storm clouds. He stands like a coiled spring, seemingly always tense and ready to leap into action in a heartbeat. His movements are unconsciously careful and efficient, wasting no energy and making as little sound as possible.

Personality

Anger, bitterness, and a battered pride form the core of Faeril. He’s only just coming to terms with the fact that his exile is real, and that fact both enrages him and fills him with despair. Afraid of what he might become should the despair envelope him, he leans into the rage. In general, the fires of his fury are his shelter. When he feels fear or terror begin to take over, he hides behind anger. When his limbs become exhausted and shaking, he uses the flames of his wrath to give them new life. Fury is his strength to carry on. It is perhaps the unhealthiest way to deal with things possible, but it has kept him alive this long.

He is spiteful and selfish, only willing to help others if it helps himself. To do otherwise is to open himself up to an attack, and he isn’t about to let his guard down ever again. His bitterness at the foul turn his luck has taken has erased what little tact he has, and he is blunt to the point of rudeness or cruelty. He views it, naturally, as telling people what they need to hear even if it hurts them. In reality, he’s just a bitter person who enjoys making others feel like him.

He is distrustful of most, viewing them with suspicion and no small amount of paranoia. His perceived betrayal by his family, the ones he thought he could trust the most, has deeply damaged his capacity for trust. While he will trust specific people out of necessity, he still keeps everyone at an arm's distance, with both eyes on them.

Faeirl has no morals. There is almost no act too heinous to commit and almost no line too far to cross. For the right price or the right reason, of course.

Faeril is deeply religious, reciting prayers to his four primary gods every morning, night, and whenever their aid is needed. It brings him comfort, and a degree of calm, when he does this.

Faeril is a very patient person. After years of stalking after enemies or prey or waiting days for the right opportunity to strike, Faeril has learned the value of being able to simply wait no matter how long things take. This does not mean he is passive. When the situation calls for it, Faeril acts as soon as he is able to. But Faeril is not one to rush into any situation unnecessarily, and is perfectly comfortable waiting for opportunities.

Faeril is a fastidious cleaner. While getting dirty doesn’t bother him if the action calls for it (you’re not gonna stay clean in a fight or tracking through a rainstorm, after all) he doesn’t like staying dirty. If he has the chance to do so, he will take all the time necessary and then some to groom himself back into presentable shape. This applies to his camp area and his equipment. All must be kept clean and organized when not in use. It greatly annoys him when others are not as focused on cleanliness and organization as he is.

In general, Faeril likes when things are well organized and have an attention to detail. Clear plans, intricate art, complex games or devices all greatly please him.

Despite his many flaws, Faeril is loyal to his companions. He is willing to do his fair share of work or more, and to assist his allies in whatever way they may need. He trusts them more than others. Some will never be fully trusted, of course, but the sheer fact that they need each other makes his paranoia less.

This is mostly because he knows that if his allies are weak, hate him, or distrust him, he will bear the consequences, but these traits are nonetheless there. As such, he tries to curb his temper, barbed words, and any other actions that would infuriate or upset his companions. He needs them, just as much as they obviously need him.

Everyone else can go hang.

Background

• Profession:Elite Guardsman
• Class: Ranger
• Heritage: Low-end noble. While not wielding the wealth of a true Dwarf aristocratic family, Faeril’s family was a respected and influential warrior family.

History The Skywatcher family is an ancient family that can trace its roots all the way back to the founding of the city-state of Thundrim Thukarn. Where other family's built shops, shaped tunnels, or made laws, the Skywatchers built walls, shaped defenses, and made weapons. They spent their blood, sweat, gold, and tears to defend Thukarn from any threat that would attempt to destroy it, and without them the Thundrim surely would have been destroyed. They founded the Horizon Guard, that venerable institution that protects Thukarn to this day. They gave up most of their wealth and political influence in the name of defending the Thundrim and without them most of the Thundrim's defenses wouldn't even be made. The history of the Skywatchers is etched into every square inch of Thukarn in blood.

Or so the Skywatchers claim at the very least. Their rivals, particularly the hated Stonehands, are quick to point out that their own family's gave a great deal to build Thukarn as well. That their own family's spent blood and gold to build it up from the simple Virke it had started out as to the mighty Thundrim it was today. They are quick to point out that the Horizon Guard isn't even mostly Skywatchers, and is open to everyone. There are heroes in every family, and each one claims that their own ancient influence is the reason Thundrim Thukarn exists today. It is an open debate, which family gave the most and had the biggest hand in making Thukarn what it is today, and it will likely never be settled.

The Skywatchers have always guarded the perimeter of Thundrim Thukarn, either defending the tunnels monsters in the depths or preventing unwanted outsiders from the mountain ranges from finding their way in. The family founded the Horizon Guard to patrol and protect the Thundrim, a fact they are immensely proud of. The Skywatchers are outside of the Thundrim more than any other family, and are much more militant than any other dwarven noble family. Pride, discipline, sacrifice, and duty form the core of the Skywatchers family values.

A Skywatcher is expected to give their lives to the Thundrim. They were its original guardians, and their destiny is set from birth. There is no other path and no other choices allowed. Theirs's is to be a life of service and sacrifice, no matter what the cost is personally or to the family.

This is the family that Faeril was born into. The fierce pride and dedication, the sense of civic duty and willingness to do anything to ensure the continued existence and safety of Thukarn. He was groomed from as early an age as possible to join the Horizon Guard and defend the Thundrim. A constant refrain was pounded into his head at every available opportunity. "You must give your all to Thukarn. There is nothing more important than your protection of and service to the Thundrim. There is nothing you will not do to protect it from harm."

Over and over again until the mantra became seared into his memory, into his core being. It became essential to who he was.

He joined the Horizon Guard as soon as he was able too, passing the tests with flying colors and ascending the ranks with remarkable speed. He was born to do this. It was his destiny. Whatever the Horizon Guard asked of him, he did. He stalked through the wooded mountains that surrounded the surface entrance to Thundrim Thukarn, hunting down a band of orcs that were threatening the surface trade. He held a shield wall in the dark tunnels, battling back a raid from the hated Dorcha. He hunted down and brought back criminals that tried to escape the Thundrim, alive or dead as the Council of Thukarn requested. He lead his men on expeditions to cull monsters in the tunnels or in the forests. For decades, whatever the Horizon Guard or the Council asked of him, Faeril did without question and nearly flawlessly. He was a hero throughout the Thundrim, and songs to his glory were sang in every tavern of Thukarn.

While he publicly appeared humble, Faeril reveled in the adulation and glory his successes were bringing him. Of course he should be applauded and respected for this. It was his destiny and he was seizing it far more successfully than anyone in the city. He was not seizing his destiny alone, nor without help though.

Through the blessings of Woegrim he was victorious in battle. Through the blessings of Hildegur he was protecting Thukarn and expanding its borders. Through the patronage of Gaundet his career was skyrocketing. Through the blessings of Gaerim his death was sure to be easy and well remembered. He gave praise to those four gods that clearly favoured him most constantly, with either muttered prayers or public sacrifices.

He was bringing great honor not only to the Skywatcher family, but to himself. Thukarn needed him. Without him and his family, it surely would be destroyed. He was well on his way to being the commander of the Horizon Guard, with all of the prestige and power that rank had. He was by far the best choice for the role, as surely everyone saw. With his successes, his leadership ability, and the sheer fact that his bloodline had created the organization in the first place, his ascendancy was guaranteed.

But not everyone saw his rising star as a good thing. The Stonehands, ancient blood rivals of the Skywatchers for centuries whispered accusations and rumors of Faeril's true nature. He was not the humble servant of Thukarn as he pretended to be. He was cruel, and power hungry. He desired the command of the Horizon Guard not because he was the best man for the job once the current commander died, but because it was the most power any one dwarf could have. He lusted for power and desperately desired to use it. Could Thukarn really put a dwarf like that into power? Could they really trust someone as cruel as Faeril to be just and fair?

The accusations enraged Faeril. The fact that it was all true was irrelevant. How dare they assume to know the burdens of command? How dare they question his methods of justice! How dare this family of petty house builders have the gall to get in the way of his destiny! He was a Skywatcher! Everything he did was in service of the Thundrim, and every 'cruel action' he did was in its protection!

The more Faeril heard and thought about the words of the Stonehands, the more enraged he became. They had been a thorn in the side of his family for centuries.. Every time the Skywatchers said yes, the Stonehands said no. If the Skywatchers said left, the Stonehands said right. If the Skywatchers said that iron was grey, the Stonehands would claim that iron was really brown. It was disgusting that a bunch of glorified carpenters disrespected his venerable family for so long.

There had been attempts to silence them, of course. Public duels, both in the arena of Thukarn and in the legal halls. Illegal street fights that occurred in the back alleys of the Thundrim. Assassination attempts, bribes, threats. No matter how many times the Skywatchers crushed the Stonehands like roaches beneath their boots, the Stonehands always came scuttling back to insult and degrade the Skywatchers.

Soon enough, debates and questions began to open up about if Faeril should be named successor to the commander. What once was seen as an easy decision, practically guaranteed to him upon the death of the current commander, now was in doubt. He could be denied his destiny, passed up for some inferior nobody, all because of the hateful mutterings of the Stonehands.

Faeril had finally had enough. He was going to eradicate the Stonehands once and for all. They were a threat to the unity and stability of the Thundrim. If he wasn't made commander, it would be disastrous for Thundrim Thukarn as a whole. He couldn't allow that. He wouldn't allow that. He would protect Thukarn, no matter the cost.

In the night, with a five of his most loyal supporters, Faeril snuck into the family mansion of the Stonehands. The house guards they had were no match for him and his elite warriors. They fell silently, and soon the Stonehands were left defenseless. From there, the plan went off without a hitch. Room by room, hall by hall, Faeril and his followers executed the Stonehands. There was no sounds, there were no warnings. Just silent, focused, slaughter.

Everything was going according to plan until the very end. They had found the last surviving member of the Stonehands, the head of the family, in his study. No doubt writing more slanderous lies about the Skywatchers. Before they could finish the deal, one of Faeril's compatriots knocked over a vase.

Glancing up and seeing six dwarves covered in blood, the old Stonehand reacted quickly. He threw his desk over to provide some cover and jumped out of the second story window behind him. Landing awkwardly with a cry of pain and a distinct limp he fled down the street and cried out for help from the local town guards. Faeril put a crossbow bolt through his back, finishing the job, but not before the local guardsmen were alerted. After seeing the head of the Stonehands fall dead in the street, they sounded the alarm and converged en masse on the home of the Stonehands.

Faeril and his compatriots could not escape. Cornered in the house, with no where to hide, they surrendered. Despite the panic of his compatriots, Faeril was smiling as they took him away in chains. The council and the Thundrim would see what he had done as a regrettable, but necessary action to protect Thukarn from an insidious an corrupt family. He would be publicly reprimanded, but privately hailed as a hero. His family would welcome him back a champion of Thukarn. How could they not? His actions had only been done in the name of the Thundrim. He would be out of jail by tomorrow.

Faeril was wrong.

The Thundrim and the Council were horrified by his actions. His family was disgusted to their cores. His five compatriots were immediately executed, having no influence of their own and no defense that would spare their lives. The only thing that saved Faeril was that his father couldn't bear to watch his son's death. Leveraging the considerable influence of the Skywatchers and the exemplary record of service Faeril had accrued up until this point, Faeril's father had him exiled from the North entirely. He would be given to their allies within the humans, and shipped with their criminals to lands far outside of the north.

Faeril almost wished he had been executed instead. The shame, disgust, fury and disappointment in his family's eyes cut him deeper than any axe could have. What had he done wrong? He had done exactly as he had been taught from day one. Exactly as had been pressed upon him from birth. Protect Thukarn, at all costs. So why was he being punished? Why was his family looking at him like a monster? What had he done wrong?

As he was being carted away from the only home he had ever known, Faeril realized the truth.

He had done nothing wrong. The Council, the Thundrim Thukarn, his own family, they had all been jealous of the blessings the gods had heaped upon him. They were afraid of his power and his will, and as such had betrayed him out of cowardice. Yes, they were afraid of what he would become if allowed to fully seize his destiny, and so they had denied him it. They were too cowardly to risk the gods wrath by killing him, so they sent him away in the hopes that he would die in some foreign land.

That is what had happened. They were afraid, and he had done nothing wrong.

Reason for Exile
Blood feud. After killing his family’s rivals, ending their bloodline and thus them as a threat once and for all, Faeril was only spared from execution by his father’s influence and his record of service to the city.

Motivation
Faeril wants power. Not to go back and forcibly retake his place among his family and his city, no. Faeril wants power out of spite. They sent him in exile to die? For doing only what was right? He’s not going to give them the satisfaction. He’s going to gain power, prestige, and wealth and they’re going to know that he not only survived their betrayals, he thrived.

Capabilities

Attributes
You've 9 to choose from. Once you do, put them in the correct area.
Combat

• Cleave and Shield
• Crossbow

Intelligence

• Bestiary
• Botany

Charisma

Health

• Toughness
• Stamina

Faculties

• Tracking
• Woodcraft

Agility

• Stealth

Mysticism [0/1]

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Equipment

You will leave this blank, since you are a prisoner.

• Empty
• Empty
• Empty

Money

0.

Languages

Northern.

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Character Relationships

Your characters have only known one another for the week it has taken to move your wagon through the Inner Kingdoms, with only a marginal time to speak. This is where you put your initial thoughts of each character, and you edit these as their opinions change. This also includes the Merc NPC.

Character Name

Character Name

Character Name

Character Name

Character Name

The sheet is technically finished, but I'll add the history later.