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Connor Darkwing

Played by: Chris Raab
Name: Connor Darkwing
Gender: Male
Age: 23
Race: Human
Hair: Brown, usually has stubble and a goatee
Eyes: Blue
Occupation: ex-Vandregonian Ranger, Eagle in the order of Arnath’s fist
Known Skills: Dual-Wielding, Archery, Armor Proficiency, Disease Resistance, First-Aid, Thrown weapons
Birthplace: North-Western Vandregon, town of Greenridge
Notable Traits: Pragmatic and stoic, resourceful and somewhat blunt.
Relationships: Father (Gerard), Mother (Sibyl), Sister (Rachel)
Rumors: It’s said he’s only been on Faedrun for 6 months or so, years later than any other known arrivals.

Seeing as I’ve cheated death more times than any should have been able to, I’ve decided to set down my tale and thoughts in this journal.
I wish I could tell you truthfully that I was part of some grand prophecy or a pivotal part in the ending of the plague on my beloved Faedrun, or maybe even bringing the end to the civil war these Ulven have become caught up in, but this is not the time, or place for fiction. I am simply a man, trying to do the best he can to survive.
I was born in the North-Western part of Vandregon, in a town known as Greenridge, where my father was a carpenter. My mother worked as a cook for the local noble, I forget his name now. We lived simply, but comfortably, directly on the edge of the noble’s estate. My mother worked long hours to allow me to attend lessons on the estate. I learned to read, to write, first-aid, and basic mathematics, as well as swordplay and archery. While this was the basis for my current skills, my father taught me resourcefulness, which, in retrospect, has proven more useful than anything.
We never really worried much about the undead until we heard of a caravan that was attacked on the road leading to the town. My father joined a few other townsfolk to look for survivors. They returned a few hours later, and with only half of their original number. One thing I will never forget in all my days is the look on my normally stoic father’s face. It was as white as paper and his lips were locked in a tight grimace, though his eyes betrayed a fear I had never seen before. He said almost nothing, but immediately began packing our belongings into our wagon.
He wouldn’t tell us more until we were several miles to the South, explaining that he had seen the undead and that they were headed towards Greenridge, they may have even arrived by now. We continued south to the capitol city, where my parents looked to book us passage on a ship to the colonies. They found room for two on a ship leaving the next day, and my mother and sister set off for Mardrun, I have not seen or heard of them since. My father and I lived in the capitol city for a year or two before I decided to join the Vandregon army at the age of 16, only a few months before the capitol city fell. I left the city with a company of soldiers to hold back a penitent force cutting a swath of destruction to the north. After a few days of travel, we came across the penitent force, which numbered more than we had anticipated, we soon found ourselves surrounded. We would have been killed to the last man hand it not been for a timely rescue by a company of Vandregon rangers who had been tailing the penitent. What advantage the penitent had in numbers the rangers dissolved with tactics and swiftness. After seeing the effectiveness of the rangers, I decided to join them, and did so with the blessings of my commanding officer.
As a ranger, we made countless excursions into penitent and undead controlled territory, delivering key blows to support the bulk of the Vandregon forces. No matter what we did though, the horde pressed towards us, and every few weeks we had to move our camp. Eventually, we took refuge in an abandoned keep near the border of Aldoria. We continued to attempt rescues and plan strikes on penitent and undead forces, but we saw more towns and villages fall than we rescued. One day, on an expedition into Aldoria, we came across a scholar and his students that were running from a penitent force. After rescuing them, they told us of a relic, hidden in the now toppled May’Kar Dominion that would prove to be a great weapon in the war against the dead. Hurrying back to the keep, it was quickly decided that a group of us would go to retrieve this blade and take it to Mardrun, if only to keep it out the hands of the enemy.
It was a long, hard journey. We had to evade several penitent and undead forces and exterminate near as many. The few surviving Vandregon soldiers accompanied us, as well as the scholars, so that our force numbered nearly forty. We acquired the relic and headed toward the coast to secure passage, but were tailed by a large force of penitent. We raced to the coast and arrived to find no ships seaworthy, and only one that was repairable. We quickly set to work repairing that ship and were nearly done when the penitent showed up. The soldiers and a few of the rangers broke off to hold the penitent off while we finished the boat. We cast off just as the line broke and the penitent killed the last of those still on land.
We numbered only 15 as we cast off for Mardrun, stopping where we could along the coast for supplies before truly setting out to sea. It was a long, grueling journey, especially for one not acquainted to sea travel. As happy as we were to see land, that changed as soon as we set foot on the coast. We were set upon by humanoid…things…I’m not sure exactly who, or what, even now that I’ve had the chance to rethink the whole ordeal. The scholar, a student, another ranger and I escaped into the wilderness while my brothers in arms held off our assailants. I can only assume they fell to our attackers as a small band of the things followed us after the battle. We managed to evade them long enough to make it to the edge of a vast swamp. We hurried into it as our pursuers gave chase. Miles in, something happened that caused them to abandon the hunt and retreat. I never knew what exactly it was. We hid in that swamp so long that I lost track of time. One night, we were set upon by monstrous creatures I’m told are called mordok. Four of them came out of nowhere, killing the student in a heartbeat. Between the other the three of us, we were able to slay our attackers, but not before they dealt fatal blows to my companions.
I didn’t sleep that night, and built a small cairn in the morning for the three of them. Grabbing the relic, a small, golden bauble from the scholar and picking up the extra sword they had, I wandered the wastes for weeks, always keeping out of sight of the ulven as well as the mordok. After that time, I came upon a familiar enemy. Zombies came out of the woods. Having fought them before, I slew them, but not before one bit me on the leg. The rest is a haze that I don’t properly remember until I woke up on a cot, but that’s another story.

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