TheDarkTemplar — Roleplayer Guild

Just as the two Seekers had begun to converse, a head peaked out from within the newly occupied home. "I thought I heard someone outside this door, are you new Seekers?", the rest of the man's body came out from behind the door to reveal he was somewhat short compared to Eleanor. His head was balding with grey hairs amongst the black that remained atop his head. A goatee beard had begun to grow out somewhat, most likely due to the state of things here in the city. With prominent ears that flared outwards from his head, one might have mistaken the man for a dwarf at first glance. "Ah but where are my manners. Hello, I am Printh, Scholar Printh. I work with Archivist Hervig in analyzing the knowledge you Seekers bring back to us", there was a nervously excited tone in the scholar's voice as he spoke, his eyes wild as he eyed the two mew arrivals. "Oh forgive me, I forget myself, please come in", Printh pushed open the door before heading inside, bidding his guests to follow. 

With haste he began to clear a table as the other scholars hurriedly traversed the home, moving documents to categorized shelves. Once the table was cleared Printh place some chairs around it before bringing forth bread and some dried meat. "Here we are, I do wish I could do better for you but as of now that's the best meal you'll find in Venridge. In fact, I cant remember the last I've had anything other than bread and dried meat...enough of that, tell me, have either of you found anything of note? Sorry, I am beside myself, I never asked your names" 

Sir Dirron Tavner

Age: 29

Gender Male

Race: Human

Personality
To a stranger, Dirron would seem rather strange for a knight. He cares not for the formalities and restrictions of class. He has often been seen escaping from highborn gatherings to take part in drink with commonfolk in the average tavern. He has never forgotten where he came from and while he fights because it is the right thing to do, his mind is almost always on the money. One can see that he is not of noble birth, his speech and mannerisms unlike that of any highborn son of Averland or The Imperium. In truth, Dirron has more in common with a mercenary than a knight but it bothers him very little. In truth, to those who look down on him, he relishes the opportunity to brag about his knighthood and wealth. To those who see past his origins, he is a simple and kind man who can be an invaluable ally and rather fun drinking buddy. 

History
From a squire in Averland to a monster hunter in exotic lands, Dirron has come a long way from his humble beginnings. Born to servants of a lord, Dirron was made a squire to Sir Leofric Nidhelm, a rather unorthodox knight. Most of his time as a squire revolved around learning how to fight various monsters rather than the traditional knight practices of protecting the realm from more human threats. While the kingdom of Averland was focusing on maintaining order in a world on the brink of collapse, Dirron and Leofric were scouring forests for witches, ghouls, and other abominations. 

It was when Dirron turned twenty-two that the apprentice became the master after a brush with a corrupted wyvern and her hatchlings left Leofric mortally wounded. Dirron, with no way to bring help in time and no means of healing his teacher, slew the wyvern and carried Leofric back to the nearest village. Dirron sustained serious injuries but managed to survive thanks to the work of the the vilage healer. Leofric was not as fortunate, after three days of fighting, Leofric passed away in his sleep. Now alone in this world, Dirron vowed to scour the world and destroy all that the decay had placed in this world.

Seven years later and Dirron has taken that vow and made it into a business. Traveling to lands far and wide, he has taken contracts out on monsters, corrupted or not, making voin off their corpses. He has recieved a medal from the Emperor of The Imperium, a knighthood from the king of Averland, and has been named a friend of the people in numerous League cities. Outside of the human lands he has made a considerable profit as well, only spending it on essentuals and towards his family and homestead in Averland. It was only when he heard of Venridge and The Conclave did he truly remember his oath and returned to his native lands to answer the call.

Weapons

Arn's Wrath- a bastard sword named after Dirron's former mount Arnthor, a black-beaked hippogriff.
Silver Dagger- for quick dispatches of various cursed and undead species as well as mortals. A recent addition to his arsenal from his exploits in Nimoria.

Magic

Repulse- by channeling a small amount of arcane energy, Dirron can releasr it as a swift blast of force, sending enemies reeling back.
Candlelight- A ball of light hovers above the casters head, illuminating the area around him as well as those he casts it upon.

Other
Dirron's traveling pouch holds various trophies from his past adventures. From vampire teeth to a petrified gorgon eye. Each item has a story that he'd love to tell given the chance.

Post Example
"Ser Tavner, I don't see how watchin a stable from within a bush will help us slay th-", an armored hand came over the mouth of Edmun before he could finish. It was well into the night and out of the entire village, only Dirron and Edmun remained outside. The light of the fireplaces within the villagers home looked so inviting to the farm boy who was forced to sit out with this wandering monster slayer. Pulling down the knight's hand he spoke once more, "Remin me why I have to be here, mi lord?"

"Because you claim to have the most experience with a weapon, right?", Dirron didn't turn his gaze from the stables which houses the only two horses in the village. "Well yes, if ya countin swingin a pitchfork behind me pa's home experence", his hands began to shake at the thought of having to fight whatever was terrorizing his village. "First, it is 'experience'. Second, you need not fight, only keep it busy till I'm ready", Dirron began to unsheath his blade as he noticed activity in the stables. 

"Experience...what's that again?"

"When you been doing something long enough that its easy for you"

"Why not just say that then?"

Dirron chuckled slightly before grabbing Edmun by the shoulder, "I said the same thing at first, now go" with a quick shove he threw Edmum from the bushes and towards the stables where the young man began to call out to whatever was within. "Oi! You in thea! Come out now or I'll stick you good, ya hear?!", there was a short silence before the door of the stable was thrown open, revealing a dog-like creature with a pair of large serpentine fangs. "By the fuckin gods! Help! Someone help!", Edmun began to stagger back as the beast started to snap at him as it closed the distance. In one sudden motion the creature lunged forward and onto Edmun. Now standing atop the poor boy, the abomination snarled and snapped at the farm boy, attempting to take out his throat but was stopped by the pitchfork shaft being between them. 

Edmun's fear was beginning to get the better of him, his grip on the pitchfork began to come loose as the creatures bites grew closer each time. As quick as it began, the encounter came to an end when seemingly out of nowhere, the beast found itself skewered on Dirron's sword, held above his head for a short moment before being slammed to the ground, pinned there by the sword still in his body. Without wasting a single moment, a silver dagger plunged into the heart of the animal, ending its reign of terror on the village. "Told you, I just needed you to keep it busy. You did good, Edmun", Dirron pulled the young man up to his feet and was greeted by the sight of the whole village outside their homes and surrounding the two heroes and their vanquished foe. One of them, the village elder, step forward, "You have our gratitude mi lord, how did you know it was such a creature?"

"I really had no idea. I knew it was a vampiric creature, probably cursed rather than undead. It only attacked livestock which is why I had you all remain indoors with fires lit. Creatures like these are primal and stay in the shadows. Once I knew this I figured all I'd need to do was stab the heart with silver"

"Will there be more of them?"

"I think not, the past attacks indicated only one of them stalked this area. I suggest you gather all the silver in the village and have them melted down into silver daggers, as many as can be made"

"If we do that lord, we'd have no way to pay you"

"Elder, all I require from you is a bottle of mead and directions to the nearest port city"

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