Archives: Wiki Pages

Player: Steven Sachleben
Character: Grunt
Race: Human
Class: Warrior

Bio: This is a tale of a man who had to survive discrimination, abandonment and near death, just for him to have a chance to find his place in the world. This tale begins with his birth. The man was born in to a noble family. But, unfortunately for the man he had been born dumb. Five years after his birth it became clear that he was never going to be able to speak. This brought shame to the family name. To deal with this shame, the head of the family ordered the man’s parents to have him killed. Because of the love the parents had for their first and only son they faked his death and had him taken away in secrecy.

The man lived locked away for 12 years and his only connection to the outside word was his caretaker Ramona and the few times a year his parents came to visit. But because of Ramona losing her son at birth then shortly after that losing her husband to a bandit raid, she sees the young master as her own son. Over the years Ramona taught him how to read, write and even how to do math. During his 17th year his parents came to visit and told him that the whole family was leaving to live in a different land, but, they are going to have to sneak on to the boat. They also told him while on the boat that he must stay hidden at all times. When the boat hit land Ramona over heard the young masters family planning to kill him. So she went to get him and ran as fast as they could from the Situation . Unfortunately when they were making there escape, his family found out and went after them. when Ramona and the man were trying to make there escape. Ramona took an arrow in the knee. Ramona then told the man to leave her behind. With hesitation he did as she said and left her to her fate.

After escaping from his family, the man got himself lost in the forest. Traveling alone for the first time in a new land . The nights were long and the trails lonely and dangerous . Scary noises night after night . Then the hunger set in. Not knowing how to fend for himself in the woods left him scared and hungry. Then it happened . The noises now had a face large and black. Then the pain, strong blow to the head leaving him unconscious. After the attack the man awoke with no memories of who he was and anything that had happened in his life before waking up . Looking around he found nothing but a small group of strange looking people staring at him and a older man trying to attend to his needs .The older man explains how he found him unconscious And wishes to heal him back to heath. He also tells him that his name is Ivar. With no memories of whom he was and feeling he owes Ivar for saving his life he decided to travel with him and do whatever he can to pay him back. After years of traveling, Iver trains the younger man he now calls Grunt, to be his bodyguard. Grunt finally found a place where he feels he belongs.

Player Name: Tyler S. Dubey
Character Name: Volrok “Battle-born” Hinrich
Gender: Semi-Blood Crazed Male
Age: 27 (came over on boat)
Race: Human
Hair: Reddish Brown
Facial Hair: Bright Red
Eyes: Hazel
Occupation: Íoclaochra or “Paid Warrior”
Known Skills: Armor Prof. (0), Imp. Armor Prof. (1), Shield Prof. (2), Shield Expert (8), Poison Resist (4)
Birthplace: Cul’Claimete (Northern Most Lairdship ), Deighcrag
Appearance: Feathered Cap, Partial Plate Armor, Chainmail, and an upturned mustache
Notable Traits: Can be heard from a notable distance due to armor, very flamboyant style, accent is extremely strong.
Bio:
Deep in the north of the Cul’Claimete of Richtcrag, in the northern most lairdship called Deighcraig, where summer was just a thawing of the ground and the rest of the seasons were snow and ice, was where Volrok was born. Now Volrok’s mother is unknown to him, but what he does know is that she died protecting him from a swarm of Undead when they invaded Deighcraig. This left his father to care and protect him as a mere babe as they fled the massive wave of undeath. At least this is what his Íoclaochra father, Torcoll “The Crimson” Hinrich told him. But that did not matter; what mattered was that he had a father that was willing to raise and teach him the ways of the local Íoclaochra. Now, most Íoclaochra were fairly similar in Cul’Claimete – drunken, battle-proud warriors whose capacity for drink was outmatched only by their love of fighting, but the small group up in Deigcraig were of a slightly different breed. They were some of the most honorable and gentlemanly warriors when not in battle, not like the rest of the Cul’Claimete Íoclaochra. They viewed that a constant stupor of alcohol could dull the senses and weaken them in battle. However, there was another tradition that made the Íoclaochra of Deigcraig different. It was rite of passage, seen by the warriors of Deigcraig as the most common – and some say, honorable – way to join the ranks of the Íoclaochra. Those whom completed this rite are called Battle-born. In the words of Volrok “Being a battle-born is a grand honor. As for what it means, it means to be born again through battle. A baptism of blood if you would.” To become a battle-born, one simply has to go into and stay in a blood rage for an extended period of time.

As for Volrok his rite happened, rather unfortunately, on his second paid engagement as an Íoclaochra. He was to guard a laird’s daughter from brigands, ne’er-do-wells, and others who might wish to exploit her station and threaten her family while she went to the market. While he wasn’t looking, the young lady was pulled into an alleyway and was about to be taken by several hired blades. Thankfully, the young lady could scream quite loudly; loud enough for Volrok to hear over the din of the market place. Disgusted at himself for letting her get pulled into the alley, the sight of the thugs dragging his charge whom he sworn to protect being dragged away, Volrok went into his very first blood rage. Sadly, even though he killed one of the thugs and mortally wounded another, he suffered a heavy blow in return, severely injuring his right knee. To this day, it will occasionally lock up due to the cut ligament. When the young lady spoke of this to her father, the local laird, as well as Torcoll, Volrok was given the the honorary title Battle-born despite his youth and inexperience.

A year after this, Torcoll heard of some promising work over on the new continent of Mardrun. Before Volrok got a say in the matter, his entire Íoclaochra company of twenty strong warriors, went to cross the sea. When they got to Mardrun, the promised wealth failed to appear – instead, they found only chaos. Clashes between the Ulven and the Colonists happened constantly, and the company was given little to no pay for their services at this time, lumped in with the other desperate refugees seeking to flee from the undead and even called scoundrels for adhering to their code of requiring payment for their services. Over time, and after the death of ten of their men, the fragile peace between the Ulven and the Colonists gained traction. This put the company practically out of business – at least, until the threat of the Mordok grew large enough for the Colonists to take notice.

The Mordok, as his father said, were “A blessing from the Battle Father!” This put the company back in business and they were beginning to make a nice profit. Their final job as a company was to be the one that finally found them with enough riches to outfit even the highest of Lairds – escorting a caravan from Starkhaven. Then, it happened: a massive Mordok raid took the caravan by complete surprise, slipping past their posted watch. Volrok was ordered to escort the surviving merchants to the nearest village or outpost for safety. To this day, he still remembers his father’s final words as a Mordok arrow pierced his heart – “COME BEAST! IF I AM TO DIE, THEN LET MY BLADE BE SOAKED WITH MORDOK BLOOD! FOR HONOR AND GLORY! FOR THE BATTLE FATHER!” Now, Volrok did not turn around to aid Torcoll, nor did he go to try and avenge him. No, he was taught better – the contract always came first. He quickly rushed the merchants to Daven’s Reach and then returned to the site of the ambush with a small company of guards. No bodies where ever found.

That event was nine cycles ago, and Volrok has matured into a fine Íoclaochra. He continues on the tradition of the Battle-born name and gives his praise to his chosen god, The Battle Father. Now, here in Mardrun, the Battle Father is practically unheard of – except for those scant few survivors from Cul’Claimete. To explain this rather peculiar religion, one must start at the beginning. According to legend, all the deities wished peace for what they created, but the Battle Father was wise, and knew if there was nothing but peace for these creatures, they would perish if ever faced with true hardship. So he went before the rest of the gods and spoke his wisdom to them. The other gods laughed at what they deemed foolish nonsense, but soon, their people began to perish due to plagues and the violence of wild beasts, so they went to the Battle Father and begged him to save their works. With a single swing of his sword, he cut the veil of peace that was laid over the world. To this day, you can still see the scar in the night sky, the Great Scar, whose glory shines even brighter over Mardrun. From here, it is said that only a select few were given knowledge of his deeds and spoke little of the Battle Father. But eventually, a cleric in Deighcraig came forth and gave this knowledge to the local Íoclaochra after a vision of the Battle Father’s legendary blow to destroy the weakness that had once threatened all creations of the gods. They came to see the Battle Father as the one that gave them the skill and strength to survive in such a war-ravaged land.

Currently, Volrok is one of the very few Íoclaochra known to be left on Mardrun and is still adhering to their ways and traditions. After working for a caravan, The Silver Raven Trade Company, he worked on as a guard for the Outpost for a few days. He enjoyed his work there, getting to fight Mordok and even gaining honor by saving the tavern from a Mordok raid. Sadly his contract is now expired and will most likely wander from location to location looking for work that is worthy of his skill, honor, and price. During his travels, he is alway sure to send out a summons for any remaining Íoclaochra to rally to him. With a war on the horizon, the time for honor, money, and glory will soon be at hand once again. For what better way to make a profit than to hire out an entire company of Íoclaochra for a reasonable price, given the circumstances?

Personality:
Out of battle, Volrok is a man of Honor and Duty, who will go above and beyond was he was contracted to do. He can have a crude sense of humor and will occasionally knock back a single mead. However, if his honor is ever insulted or questioned, he will become rather enraged and may attempt a brawl. If the insult is serious enough, he may just outright kill that person.

In battle, he tends hoot and yell at the enemy, taunting them to come into his reach. As a trained mercenary, he is willing to work with groups and will gladly take point so that he may attempt to claim glory when the chance is viable. When fighting an opponent, there may be a chance that all logic will be thrown to the wind as he enters a blood rage.

Relationships:
Best of Friends: Battle, Silver, and Mead.
Actual Friends: None at the time.
Ulven: “Interesting folk. I find honor in battle with them. I especially find joy in battle with them for other reasons. Like the mutual dislike for Mordok, yelling and taunting the enemy, and a love for a good hard fight.”
Syndar: “Have yet to be paid well by one. Have yet to battle with one side-by-side. So I find Syndar uninteresting.”
Humans: “Humans are difficult. I trust Ulven more than fellow humans, simply due to the lack of honor most humans have.”

Rumors:
This lone Íoclaochra is looking for others who are of like mind as he, (other Íoclaochra or those that may desire to become Íoclaochra) that may wish to band together and introduce Mardrun of their skills and services . . . for a hefty price, of course.
Constantly speaks of a god by the name of “Battle-Father.
Will fly into a blood rage while in a fight.
Very possible, he could be a bard on the side, as he is often found singing. When confronted on the subject, he replies “If wanted to be bard, I would not hire out my blade.”

Played by:Jenni Babcock
Name: Martha
Gender: female
Age:17
Race: human
Hair: red
Eyes: hassle green
Occupation: I worked in a bar once
Known Skills:i can Handel a sword pretty well
Birthplace: crows landing
Appearance: short
Notable Traits: well I can cook and clean

Bio: I grew up in crows landing in a small cottage closest to the sea. I have a big family; my parents, three brothers, and two sisters. I’m the oldest so I worked at a bar until the rangers got me to join them. I still remember seeing them for the first time. In the winter we had run so low on supplies and as soon as they arrived all they did was help. They didn’t even ask for anything. They did so much to help us threw that winter joining them was my way of saying thanks. Puckermen has been teaching me how to fight with a sword and its been a struggle but I’m learning.
Its hard leaving my family all the time but I feel like I’m really helping people. We do a lot of scouting mostly. It’s fun, kind of like taking a walk threw the woods for a picnic or something, but its not all fun. On one of my first patrols with them things turned south fast. We went on a stranded patrol with four men. Puckermen was in charge. There some ulven named Nickoli and a tall guy with a shield as big as me named Bob. We where an hours walk from the village when it happened. I heard a sharp sound from the trees and felt so much pain in my chest, it made me fall to the ground. An arrow was sticking out of my chest the pain was so great. I heard the sound of fighting. I could barley keep my eyes open I saw five men pushing out of the woods three had bows. It was then I saw that Nickoli had been hit as well, two arrows stuck out of his back. Bob had taken to fighting the two men that had ran in with swords drawn. Puckermen came to my side and pulled me to my feet he yelled at me “FIGHT!” The rest is a blur. I didn’t do much. Bob killed three of them and Puckermen killed one more but the third archer ran into the woods. We let him get away Puckermen healed Nickoli while we rested then we searched the bodies and burned them. we didn’t find much. Puckermen talked to me when we got back he could tell how helpless I felt. He promised to teach me how to be a better fighter. I hope I can help others as much as they helped me.

player: Tim Miller
Character: Guthrum
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Race: human
Hair: brown
Eyes: Hazel
Occupation: Merchant liason for the Brotherhood of the Long Winter
Known Skills: Fearless warrior of the Brotherhood, wields a great sword
Birthplace: A Small village in Faedrun
Appearance: Bearded, good looks
Notable Traits: nothing of physical note

BIO: Guthrum was born in Faedrun and experienced first hand, the undead apocalypse that swept over the land. He originally was part of a militia set up by his village to help defend it from the undead. When the dead came, they where not prepared. The village’s meager defenses were nowhere near enough to ward off the endless tide of undead. His village was overrun; the militia swept aside, and his friends and family slaughtered. In the chaos of the battle he was forced into the forest. He was forced to flee through the forest for his life. After wandering the woods for days being chased by the undead, he came across Gandr trying to light a fire to keep himself from freezing. Knowing the undead where in close pursuit he convinced Gandr to flee with him. Together they made it to the coast and eventually they where able to secure passage on a colony ship by selling all of Guthrum’s armor. Upon arriving in Newhope, Guthrum tried to find a place for him and Gandr, eventually falling in with the Brotherhood of the Long Winter and swearing himself to Jarl Ivar.
Relationships: Sworn to Jarl Ivar’s service. Close friends with Gandr Wodeen
Rumors: He’ll Cut you

Played by: Peter “PJ” Rudolph
Name: Gandr Wodeen
Gender: Male
Age: 327 Moons ~(26yrs)
Race: Human
Hair: Dark Brown if at all
Eyes: Blue with a speck of green
Occupation: Scribe
Known Skills: Reading, Writing, Being a smart ass,
Birthplace: Wodeen (Small town three miles off a trade route. Often used for a stop for supplies.)
Appearance: A fat guy in a brown robe.
Notable Traits: Fat and Friendly

Bio: Born the son of a powerful mage Alf Wodeen and the proficient healer and cleric Frea Wodeen. While growing up, the village that his father’s family had founded many years back was for the most part untouched by the undead in Faedrun. It was a small trade town with many travelers and many stories. At the age of twelve, a small band of undead and penitent found the village and attacked it. With expert leadership of both of Gandr’s parents, the town was saved with only three lives lost in the process. The village had many injuries, but Frea was able to mend all the wounds of those not outright killed and save them all. Unbeknownst to her, she had a small bite from one of the undead on her ankle. With much healing skill she went to work on herself, once she noticed the bite, but at that point it was already too late. Her magic and knowledge of the human body was not enough to save her, and she died. Now without a mother, Gandr’s father sent him to a monastery for protection and to learn, while he would try to cleanse the land of this undead plague. With an unholy vengeance, his father went off and did in fact make a name for himself in many of the conflicts he was a part of. At the monastery, Gandr was a young boy and for the most part an orphan, although that was not uncommon in this monastery. He spent all of his time trying to learn anything he could about healing so that he could save someone’s life if it ever came to that again. His mother’s death was not a peaceful one, and he would not wish it even on his own worst enemies. The monks of the monastery took a liking to Gandr and while the other children would be out playing or doing chores, they would take turns answering his questions, which were mostly about the human body, and how to heal it. After seven years, the monks allowed Gandr to join their order to help protect people. On his initiation day, Gandr’s father showed up before the ceremony and warned him that they needed to leave, and they needed to leave now. It was the only way he would have time to save his son’s life. When asked why, his father explained that a vast army of penitent and undead was on its way to destroy this monastery for the hope it was bringing to the region. After refusing to go with his father without at least trying to save the monastery, his father knocked Gandr unconscious and black bagged him. Three hours later, Gandr woke and was promptly informed by his father that while he left word with the monastery on what was happening, he didn’t believe that they would all be dead in the next few hours. Hatred and heated words flew between them about how Gandr was a man now and his father had no right to make decisions for him, with the retort that Gandr knew nothing of the real world and was no man yet, despite his age. Knowing that this fight was futile, Gandr suppressed it to be had at another time. On the travels away from the now fallen monastery, he and his father talked about anything that they could, so as not to bring up arguments. In this Alf taught Gandr everything he knew about magic. Now, on a practical sense, Gandr learned everything his father had to say. He even wrote it down in books to remember for later as a reference. He never developed the ability to store mana in himself from his father’s lessons, but that was more of a not having time to meditate and try. While traveling with his father, Gandr heard many rumors about his father, heroic exploits and such. After traveling with him for a few months, Gandr finally asked where they were going, and was answered with, “Anywhere to keep the last light of Frea safe.” With many miles, many towns, many talks, and many lessons in knowledge and the world, both Gandr and Alf were not able to find a spot that was not now infested with undead or penitent in one way or another. Like all seasons, all times must change. After three years with his father, and much running, there was finally an event they could not run from. Being caught in a town where there seemed no escape, so his father created a diversion to allow his son to escape. Gandr’s father told him the way to the next town, and that after escaping; if he could make it there he should be safe. On the way to the next own, more attacks happened and Gandr lost his way. Lost in the forest and trying to find the town his father sent him from. While on his travels one night, he was trying to make a fire and a man ran into him and his little camp, ruined the fire and yelled at him, “Run or Die!!!” We ran thru the night and when we finally reached the day and felt safe enough, we finally introduced ourselves properly. Guthrum was his name. He told Gandr about a port that was heading to a new promised land. Together they traveled and grew a friendship. They reached the docks of a town and used the money from Guthrum selling his armor to pay for a ride to the new land. Upon arriving they eventually met the brotherhood of the long winter. After some miss understandings with the jarl, Gandr promised three years of his life in service to pay for an insult. He has been in the brotherhood since that day.

Relationships: Scribe for the Brotherhood of the Long Winter, Good Friends with Guthrum
Rumors: People unsure of sexual preference. The Jarl keeps calling him gay in some shape or another. The idiot who corrected the Jarls pronunciation.

PLAYED BY: Dylan Seager

CHARACTER NAME: Thalor

GENDER: Male

CLASS: Warrior

AGE: 22

RACE: human

HAIR: Brown

EYES: Blue

OCCUPATION: Drunken fighter

KNOWN SKILLS: Sword and shield fighting

BIRTHPLACE: Faedrun

APPEARANCE: tall, armored, and often mistaken for a bandit

NOTABLE TRAITS: I’m an average guy

RELATIONSHIPS: Rangers

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:
I was born when the undead were attacking. I don’t really remember much from back then because well, I was young. I do remember they got to us one day. My mother handed me my baby sister, Bonnie, and told me to run. I tried to argue with her, but eventually I ran.
After days of running and hiding I made it to a boat crying, hungry, and tired from carrying my little sister. I snuck aboard, which isn’t hard to do when no one is paying attention to an orphan. I sat in a darkened stairwell for what seemed like forever. Eventually the boat started moving. The last of the food and water from the pack my father had given me ran out the second day on the boat. I carefully placed my sister behind some barrels on the makeshift bed I crafted for our journey, shushing her to sleep. When she closed her eyes began her peaceful breathing, I took my leave. I had to find us some food before she began crying out of hunger. I wandered around the boats making sure I never once gave anyone a reason to give me a second look. I turned the corner to duck into the kitchen and smacked into a rock of a man. I landed on my back and when my eyes opened there were dark grey ones staring back at me. The man, Jurrok, looked at me with curiosity. I looked away at first. I couldn’t handle the sad look he was giving me. “You’re the one that’s been taking the bread. You know how I know?” I shook my head. “You don’t use a knife. You break little pieces off because you’re not big enough to reach the sharp knife,” he stated. “I could if I wanted to, but it’d make too much noise and then I’d be caught,” I spat back. I wasn’t about to let someone call me little after all I’ve been through. I lost my mother, my father, grams and gramps, and even my best friend. I didn’t know if I was going to make it or worse if my sister was. I started to shake. I was trying not to cry. Men don’t cry and I had to be a man to take care of Bonnie. “You’ve been through a lot. I can see the death in your eyes. Must of lost many loved ones, everyone has. I myself lost my wife and my son. They were killed right in front of me. You remind me a lot of my son,” he said with a sad tone to his voice. He turned his face towards me and smiled. “Which is why I’m going to help you. No one knows my story, but everyone knows there’s a kid on board that isn’t with a family. That’s you. I’m going to bring you to the captain and claim you as my son. That I thought I had lost you, but you’ve been on board this whole time. You won’t have to steal food and you’ll get an equal share like everyone else. That okay with you?” I sat there staring at him for what seemed like hours. Why was he being nice? I couldn’t understand exactly why, but it didn’t matter. I felt like I could trust him. “My little sister too,” I asked. His eyes lit up and a smile spread across his face. “I’ve always wanted a daughter.”
When we made it to a new land Bonnie and I stayed with Jurrok. I took care of Bonnie and helped Jurrok with chores, and he taught me how to fish, cook, and hunt. I learned a lot that first year, we all did. When I turned 15 Jurrok decided to teach me how to fight. Every day for three hours we practiced with shields and wooden swords, we continued this way for years. Once I was good enough, he took me out hunting. One day when we were out hunting I spotted a deer; I wasn’t close enough to get a good shot off so I tracked it until I could. I must have tracked this deer for hours through thick brush and woods. The deer stopped at a small creek to drink and I got ready to take my shot, when some twigs broke off in the distance and scared the deer away. Disappointed and empty handed I stood up to make my way back, but as I looked around I realized I was lost. I thought for a long time and just stared out in every direction trying to remember which way I came from; eventually I made my decision and headed out. After a few hours I realized that this was probably not the way back. I was so lost and tired I decided to make camp.
I made a small fire and ate some rations I had in my pack. When I was going to sleep I put the fire out and made my way up a tree. Jurrok was always one to err on the side of caution so he taught all the hunters how to safely sleep in the trees. We are in uncharted territory and need to be careful. I continued to do this for a week, give or take a few days, until I was caught and tied up by a couple of Ulven who called themselves Whiteoak. When it got darker I pulled the knife I had hidden in my boot out and started cutting at the rope. I know I missed a few times and cut my arms, but the blood made it easier to slide my hands out. When the bigger of the two guys went to sleep I made my move. I pretended like I had to pee and the one that was awake angrily took me out, keeping his hand on my shoulder so I couldn’t run. About 20 or 30 ft away from the little campsite I “tripped”. He didn’t even have time to realize what had happened as he fell on top of me, landing with my knife in his gut. I moved quickly to ensure he died quietly. I took what little supplies he had on him. I went back to the campsite only for my equipment and left quietly. One death was more than enough to make my escape, no sense in killing the other guy.
A day or two later I came across a raiding party with humans who were wearing green, I did not know if I could trust them so I kept my distance. The ones in green intrigued me, so I decided to follow the small one who I heard them call Puckerman a time or two. I thought that was an odd name for someone, but dismissed it. After night fell and people left the area, I still chose to follow this Puckerman. I decided I would talk with him because he seemed the most trustworthy, being able to cast divine magic he had to be good, right? Night fell and I lost track of him for some time, but as I made my way towards the crossroads everyone else had gone towards, I saw him with two Ulven men and a guy with one eye all being attacked by bandits. Deciding I could help, I quietly killed one of the bandits who had gotten close. They finally caught up with the rest of their group. I continued to watch the ones in green. I followed them all the way to their settlement which they called Crows Landing. After a few days of watching the settlement, I decided I could pass as a traveler. I walked into Crows Landing trying to seem non-threatening, but how unthreatening can one look when you happen to look like me. Considering I have spent weeks out in the woods without a bath or a change of clothes. It’s probably why that woman screamed when she saw me. That scream hurt my ears and when it stopped and I looked back up there was that guy Puckerman staring back at me. Next to him was an Ulven with a scar across his eye and two armed guards. “Hello,” I said. “I didn’t mean to scare anyone I’m just looking for a place to clean up and rest. I’ve been lost for some time.” I swear they were going to throw me in jail. I grabbed the hilt of my sword ready to fight when Puckerman spoke. “About damn time you show your face. I’ve been wondering who was following me around. Figured you weren’t bad because otherwise you would’ve attacked when our defenses were down. So I let you be, but hell I thought you’d show up sooner. Almost started thinking I’d gone crazy.” “You still might be,” said the scarred Ulven. “If I was wrong Tobias, then I’d be dead. This guy looks like he could eat me.” “Come on now Puckerman we both know you can handle your own,” smirks Tobias. Puckerman just shrugged, but I knew it to be true. If he wanted to kill me he most certainly could. “So what shall we do with you,” says Puckerman. Weakly I respond, “Well I could use a hot bath and meal first, but after that I’m sure we can figure something out.” “Indeed we could. Come on! The inn is this way!” Puckerman shouts as he starts walking away.

Character Info: Newhope

Character Name: Clypeum Legis
Played By: Ian Loebl
Gender: Male
Age: 21
Race: Human
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Grey-Blue-Green
Appearance: Tall and thin, with usually a neutral expression on the face
Notable Traits: Incredibly selfless and dedicated to peace
Birthplace: The Kingdom of Aldoria, Capital City
Occupation/Class: Cleric, Healer
Known Skills: Divine Magic, Widespread Lore, Warhammer
Religious Order: The Church of Curantis
Faction Affiliation: Crow’s Landing

A Little Background:

My earliest memories are of flight, blood, and death as we fled to Mardrun. My father was a minor officer in the Aldorian military, as well as a cleric, and he took his men and their families out of the conflict. Naturally, this included me as well. I remember little of the voyage except that it was hard and long, but my father taught me things all the way which eased the passage. He taught me of our faith and its kindness and magical knowledge. He taught me magic of the divine and how to fight. Everything that I started with, I learned from him. I grew up in Crow’s Landing, all the while learning and training with my father. He drilled into my head all the knowledge of our Church so that its vast history could live on after he passed away. I learned about everything; the world, military tactics, and the magic of faith. When I grew old enough I joined the militia to help defend our home, as was my duty. Throughout my life, my father and my officers taught me to always admire and respect the chain of command. Recently, Aradeal and his companions left Crow’s Landing and disappeaared. We sent out scouts and tried to find them, but they had vanished… victims of bandits, the mordok, or possibly trying to live a different life in one of the larger colonies. The settlement fell apart after they left us, my father and the other officers trying to rally the villagers to survive the winter. When the Rangers arrived, they gave us a reason to rally and carry on. The officers quickly placed them in command of the settlement and then set an example to the villagers by following their orders. Although they were new and did not have experience with our settlement,they were extremely skilled at what they did and saved us from destruction on several occasions. This chain of command, established quickly and followed in our time of need, allowed us to reorganize Crow’s Landing and keep us from succumbing to the winter cold and starvation. I suppose then that it’s no surprise that I ended up joining them. My goal will always be peace but in these times, I will do what I must to protect myself and others from the horrors that ravage this continent.

Player Name: Alex Nelson
Character name : Illa Aldric
Race: Human
Class: Warrior

Bio:

The snow falls , seasons have changed and entered in to the end of the yearly cycle. This year was colder than most. This was the year Illa was 9 years old. There had been rumors that stores were low in many of the neighboring villages. The toll of the war against the undead was showing. Her father was quite the pack-rat. He always had plenty of food, oil, spices and many other supplies. This town was coveted by all in the local are as many of the traders came back and forth between the villages. Soon many of these traders kept coming to see father, trying to get more and more of his stores. Silver was not the problem, there was just no food to buy. Soon, father started to turn them away. At first they left without question, but as time went on things became more and more desperate. The conversations started with begging and then after a while turned to anger and threats. She was scared; she wished they would all leave her family alone. Go to a place where everyone has food. She wanted to give them food; she didn’t understand why they could not share with the strangers. One night, her Father sat her down to quell her protests, in mid conversation there was a noise and then an eerie silence. Her father’s face blanked with fear, he knew what was happening. “Quiet girl hide in the crawlspace, take these furs bundle well. Never make a noise. And don’t come out till I come and get you no matter what!” her father commanded. She scurried quickly into the crawlspace, huddling in the small dark corner of the underside of her home. Noises, crashing and screaming that was her mother’s voice. That was her father’s, and many other screams she did not know their owner. The traders who left angry had been captured by a large group of bandits seeking food and supplies to keep them alive. To save their lives they gave the bandits information about a large store of food. In the end, signing the death warrant of her family and the rest of the village. Hours and hours of noise and fear she didn’t freeze the house above her was a blazing inferno keeping her warm and awake to hear the village’s final screams die into the night.
As the fear set in and the reality of the situation was finally understood. When she realized she was truly alone, stress and emotion took her, racking her body with sadness, passing out slowly to the sounds of death and destruction. A short time later, the next day perhaps, the cold set in. Listening to her father she did not move. He did not come to get her; somewhere inside she was hoping he was still alive. She knew better, she just didn’t want to believe it.
The chill of winter spread slowly over her body. The sounds of her stomach were the only thing letting her know that the time frame she had been hiding here was longer than it should have been. Somewhere inside she decided she did not want to be alone in this world. She was ok with just passing on to the next life. The cold was the only thing that she felt. The numbness caressed her body like a loving parent taking her to bed. She was so scared and now as things calmed she just wanted to sleep. Just sleep forever.
As her eyes went to close for the last time there was a noise, distant at first but getting closer. She became aware of many footsteps and a dog. Scratching and panting and sniffing through the rubble of what was once her home above her. She tried to make a noise but she was too weak she could barely breathe let alone move. And then it happened, that warm breath the cold nose and then all the licking. The last she remembered was this prickly beard and being lifted from her soon to be grave. “It’s ok child, you are now safe” said Ivar.
Time had passed; she had been taken care of, her wounds from the cold healed. Now considered the property of Ivar (Jarl of the brotherhood of the long winter), she was given a new purpose, a new life, a new family. She was traveling, protecting, living, belonging, becoming, and having a second chance at life, having safety and love from the people who chose her.