Name: Eamon Amantea
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Best described as... ehhh *slight hand shake* though usually has a hetero slant
Role in Society: Knight
Occupation: Knight, farmer, giver of last rights
Legend: "Come in out of the cold young pup" The Old man waves you inside from the biting cold and into the warm dimly lit atmosphere of his hut. "You've traveled a long way eh?" He gives you a toothy grin as he sits you next to the fire and places a bowl of stew in your hands. "So, I fully expect you to be on your way when this storm lets up. But until then you stay there and get warm and let me tell you a tail, you may not believe it, but a swear every word of this is true. Let me tell you the tail of the Daemon and the Griffin."
"The Verall Daemon was an angry spirit, the likes of which few have seen outside the kingdom. It was a massive thing measuring a couple hundred hands long at least and was half that at least wide, it tunneled beneath the earth using its gaping maw causing tremors as it passed. Its body is lined with hard chitin, impervious to most forms of steel and iron, and many a little skittering leg that bore it at a nightmare's pace. This fearsome beast once roamed these parts, praying on those foolish enough to go trampling across soft dirt. But after years and years of just eating the stupid ones, the Daemon must've gotten tired of waiting for each meal, and resorted to behavior never before seen in it. It began to attack towns, razing them to the ground in a frenzy of blood and screams that would chill even the bravest man's blood. One by one reports of entire towns on the outing boarders entirely disappearing overnight began to filter back to the capitol, nothing it would have seemed could have stopped this beast, swords broke against it and arrows pinged off its shell without so much as a scratch. We were getting closer and closer to the braking point everyday, thanks to that infernal Daemon, but as we teetered on the very edge of disaster we learned that someone was actually hunting the Daemon. They said that his cloak and even the back part of his hair were made of fine gold eagle feathers, that his fingers ended not in the human tips but in vicious claws, and that the beasts of the wild seemed to fear him. For these qualities we called him the Griffin, and as the story of him circulated the name stuck.
No one knows why he hunted the Daemon, only that he did, and by the gods he was good at it. He headed the thing off from a few villages that were in its path, and drove it onto a great outcropping of stone, making the thing surface. It was there they did battle, the rampaging Daemon and the golden Griffin. They fought and fought, churning stone and earth in their wake, neither seeming to be able to hurt the other until finally the great Daemon once more found itself on malleable earth. It reached forward with lightning speed and seized the Griffin, dragging him beneath the surface. We all thought he was gone and dead till a tremor started, that lasted for the better part of four hours. It was after that that the Griffin broke his way onto the surface, clutching a great chunk of the Daemon's impenetrable chitin in his hand, and his blade and armor stained in the thing's blood.
He accepted no payment or reward, only taking a couple free nights and meals at the closest inn before once more setting out. Sightings of hims crop up from time to time, new stories of him fighting creatures or mediating century old conflicts to a peaceful end. Me, personally I think he went to some plot of land to live in peace, but I could be wrong. Now you finish your stew and get some sleep, in the mornin if you want I'll tell you another story of Eamon the Griffin." The old man rises to gather you some blankets and darken the hut before retiring for the night, the stories over for now.
Appearence Picture:Appearence: Standing around 6'1'' - 6'2'' Eamon is built quite solidly, his calloused hands reflecting his martial background, as well as his tendency to help the farmers under him with certain tasks. His face carries a few scars here and there, and his nose has a slight bulge halfway up the bridge, giving it away as to having been broken at least once and reset. His tired emerald green eyes are framed by hid mid length dirty blond hair, which also covers his ears on a regular occasion. Finally a short beard of the same color completes the knights features.
When not in armor, Eamon will commonly wear what could be mistaken as peasant's clothing, as he finds it much more comfortable than most noble attires.
Personality: A warm smile and a friendly laugh are in store for those who get to know Eamon. From the highest king to the lowest serf, everyone is equal in his eyes, which can be refreshing change for some but an insult to others. He has blended the dogma of his chosen deities, Analil and Wyrim, into his everyday life and dedicates himself to bringing out the best in others, even if it means a sacrifice of his own. Rage is a silent emotion for Eamon, characterized by a lack of speech and a loss of his characteristic grin. In battle he fights with both ferocity and precision, usually found wading into where the fight is thickest and proving he is worthy of the Griffin's name. The final thing one must know about Eamon is not to confuse optimism with naïveté, he knows of the horrors of the world, but he simply lives by the philosophy "If I stop smiling, who will continue to?"
Skills: Weapon Master (Guisarme and Bastard Sword): Through years of training Eamon has grown accustomed to the feel and weight of both the Guisarme and the Bastard sword, wielding each like they were not only extensions of his body but extensions of his soul as well. This plus his extensive use of the Heater Shield has given rise to his own style, in which he uses the Guisarme one handed along with the shield.
Apprentice Farmer: Being in charge of a small patch of land is not enough for Eamon, he must have a hand in shaping it. To this end he has dedicated many hours to learning and helping peasant farmers that work the land.
Last Rights Giver Journeyman: In the Hegemony death a serious affair, and those who can preform the last rights for the deceased are highly sought and prized. They are unique withing the Hegemony in that they can move freely from place to place without drawing too much attention, as well as having the right to ask questions about ever facet of the deceased's life.
Master Shield User (Heater Shield): Like his chosen two weapons, the shield has become to Eamon simply another piece of himself that is wielded with near absolute precision
Survivor of the three trials: To become a Knight of the Hegemony one must pass the trials. Each tries the initiate to the breaking point in some way, ether physically of mentally, but in the end the result is a Knight that stands tall even in the face over overwhelming odds or hopelessness. This is because the trials may be brutal, they teach a final lesson. The only way to beat something that has knocked you down 7 times is to get up 8.
Acceptance of the cold truth: There will always be things that Eamon cannot help, always be choices he cannot help others make and there will always be greater challenges and threats that must be met. While he may not like it Eamon has accepted this truth, and in so doing has made is will and resolve as strong as steel.
Combat Flaws: Normal Bows: While he can handle crossbows with some degree of skill, Eamon has never truly gotten the hang of using your standard bow
No plan survives first contact: Used to fighting in chaotic conflicts, Eamon is prone to improvising even if a plan is going well.
A helping hand: Even in the midst of conflict Eamon will try to help his allies, absorbing blows meant for them and engaging someone that was trying to surprise them, even if he was already engaged himself.
Personality Flaws:No patience for evil: We all have good somewhere in us, just waiting to be let out, a voice telling us what we are doing is wrong. Some people however have gagged this voice and hardened themselves to it's pleas. These are the people Eamon cannot stand, those that simply do evil for the sake of evil. He is fully aware that Evil must sometimes be done for the greater good, and is fine with that, so long as the greater good is always the backing force.
All are equal: As stated in his personality, Eamon treats everyone equally, leading to potential insults to rulers who dislike the knight talking to them like they are on the same social level.
Magic Spells: As part of the Trials, Eamon was taught and knows how to use a very limited number of spells. All of which he knows how to use like the back of his hand.
They are
-Flame strike (summons a small bolt of fire to strike and ignite foes or flammable objects, can be used in a stationary state to light objects such as campfires or candles, or to starve another fire of fuel)
-Healing (by channeling a piece of his own energy into a person Eamon can produce a healing effect)
-Empowerment (touching another willing individual, Eamon literally channels his own determination and will to the other person, bolstering their moral and even reducing fatigue. If the person is unwilling Empowerment does nothing.)
Abilities:-The immovable object-Stalwart: Trying to knock down Eamon in the midst of combat is like trying to move a mountain all at once, even hitting him his like punching a stone wall.
A Juggernaut's mind: In battle Eamon's mind is set and he will see what needs to be done, done. Pain is a secondary thing that can be ignored, as it will only detract from him finishing what he needs to do.
-A shield for us all-No harm shall come to you: Almost like a sixth sense, Eamon is sometimes able to "feel" the next attack, or the fact of nearby danger. This allows him to react quicker to attacks, even surprise attacks, and perhaps head off disaster. This ability can even apply to harm that may come to allies, if Eamon is close to them (emotionally)
Backstory: The son of a Knight and a servant, Eamon was stuck in a limbo state between the two social classes from the start. To make matters worse, Eamon was hated by the Knights legitimate children and was often the butt of their cruel jokes. But being beaten, bruised, and locked outside on cold winter nights oddly enough didn't seem to break the child, if anything it only made him grin more when his mother patched him up, or outright smile if his father ever offered him a touch of kindness. But bend something enough and even the strongest steel will shatter and break, and young Eamon's shattering would bring his whole world down.
It started when his mother contracted a sickness the doctors could only name as the "Grey Rot". Potions, herbs, and even Magic couldn't help her as she slowly wasted away, he once clear skin becoming gray and papery. Eamon tried all he could to help his mother, he would fetch clean water, grind herbs, even pray, but it was all for naught. As on a cold, dark night, bathed in the flickering light of a candle Eamon's mother shuddered and groaned in pain before sighing her last. Eamon, who had been by her side, gently placed his mothers hands across her chest and pulled her blanket up, his mind numb. Silently he looked at her, and smiled as he knew not what else to do. He stood there grinning until he felt a drop of something on his lips. Reaching up he discovered that his face had become wet with tears, he simply smiled and gave a slight "Huh" before his resolve finally crumbled. His cries echoed through the fortress, reverberating off the cold stone. He cried until he felt warm arms close around him, the arms of his father.
He was formally brought into the Knights house and line, and from that moment began training with the other children. He trained until his hands bled, he didn't truly know why he threw himself into his training, but he quickly learned the ways of war.
Years passed and Eamon grew, his smile once more returning as he grew stronger. When the time came he stood for his trials, he stood tall and did not bow. His body and mind refused to break, refused to be splintered once again. Whats more, he stood with the Knights other children and refused to let them fall and fail. Ge took on pain after pain for them and in the end they all stood victorious. But their victory was short lived as they were sent on their first tasks as Knights.
Most were minor tasks, such as tax collection, or guarding supply trains as they travailed the back roads. But Eamon was sent to investigate the sudden silence of a couple outlying villages. What he found was not ruin and death, but frightened people and a few ruined buildings. A few deaths, but not the massive casualties that were expected. He stayed in each village for a couple nights, healing and helping the best he could, but come the third morning he would always set off in search of what had caused the destruction. He found it finally, thrashing in the square of a third town. It was a huge thing akin to a centipede, it thrashed in the sun a grating scream emanating from it. He set to work engaging the thing, his skills being tested even more than in the Trials. But as he fought it he noticed something, the beast was not attacking with aim, but thrashing blindly and blood was seeping from the things right side, where the shaft of a spear jutted out from is body. In that moment Eamon knew what he had to do. He drove the thing back towards the nearby stream, not ever stabbing at it, but simply forcing it towards the soft earth. This area of the country was rocky and full of clay, making it horrible for farming and easy to force into a hard pack.
The thing had probably come here in search of pray and had beached itself on the hard earth. It was lost, hurt and confused. Eamon forced it one last time back till it was at the banks of the river, then he did the hardest thing to do with the rampaging monster.
He forgave it.
He forgave it's destruction, its killing and its disruptions. He let it bury itself in the soft earth, is screaming stopping the minute it did so, and after it was gone he descended into the small depression it had left collecting the spear shaft that had snapped off and attached to which was a chunk of the things flesh. Smiling he left the impression and set off towards home.
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