Ofelion
I think I might like it here
Name: Ofelion Ironcast
Nickname/Alias: Ofelion
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Baseborn Human
Height: 188 cm
Weight: 82 kg
Hair: Chestnut Brown
Eyes: Blue
Skin: White and rough.
Identifying Marks: Vague but long scars cover his back across in a neat pattern. They all look to be tended to by an expert physician.
Appearance: The first thing you notice on Ofelion's face is the thin line mouth, as if carved into his head. Eyes of His skin bears signs of heavy physical use, but not of overstrain.
Physically and mentally he is fit but looks to have fed on a minimum diet for some time now, leaving the body lean and muscled.
Upon first arriving in Altera and Port Silver, his clothes, that look to be above middle-class origin, are almost in rags and hang loosely from his body. His chain mail is rusty and battered, but still serves its purpose.
Biography:
Having abandoned his family's barren lands at Twoforks, Ofelion seeks a new place for him in Altera. He bring with him naught but grudge and all powerful will to succeed.
His upbringing on the lands of the Ironcast family was not a tale to be told lightly.
In the shadow of the stony hills, on the shore of the salty waters and on the dried out rocky earth, a hold of stone and wood rose. These walls, that had held the stormy powers of the sea at bay for generations, were more of a prison than a home to him.
Rutgar, his father, the self-proclaimed lord of Irongard, was more menacing and colder than the stones of that wall. Quick on the whip, he shaped Ofelion's childhood with pain and lecturing of the hardship of men.
It seemed to Ofelion, that it was a miracle that the cobblestones of the courtyard had not stayed a permanent red, with all the blood he and his brothers had shed on them.
His father would always hold a special place in Ofelions heart. That place being the hatred that drove Ofelion through hardships where normal men stopped.
Even now, many years after the death of Rutgar, Ofelion still regarded his father's cowardice a spot on his family already splattered banner.
Rutgar had, as a young man, fought under the banners of Queen Grief, against the kings of Altera. When the war had seemed lost, he had stuck his tail between his legs and run on home.
On returning home he had told lies to his family of his valours in war.
But the war soon caught up with him, and his entire family perished when the great battle for Twoforks took place in PC158. Only Rutgar himself, who was coward enough to hide in the hidden cellars of his family hold, had survived the ordeal.
When the fleeing armies of Queen Grief and the mighty hosts of the kings had moved the battlefield away from Twoforks, there were no one to proclaim Rutgar a liar and a coward.
So he took Irongard for his own, ruling the peasants harder than need be.
Ofelion had been born in PC 185 from the loins of a simple maid to the hold. Just one of the many other sons, born from the tyranny of Rutgar Ironcast.
All of Ofelion's brothers were bastards like himself, but Ofelion was far from the first born, and land and titles were an impossibility. His life was destined to play out in the stables of Irongard, or at best he might make a name for himself as a sellsword.
But Ofelion knew his family's history, for he had spent many an hour with his eyes in the books of his ancestors. They told the tale of valor and bravery in the years after the creation. Irongard had once been a powerful outpost, built with the labour of fine men. Not run by petty cowards as his father.
Honour and family bound him to Irongard, even though his father did not deserve his service. Where else could he go?
The day that the peasants had risen, taken up their hayforks and marched on the castle had not come as a surprise to Ofelion. The only surprise lay in why they had waited so long.
Rutgar had two days previously sent his household guard to the village, to bring him Taina.
Taina was a maid of only 15, betrothed to the son of the mayor. They were to be married in a fortnight and the town had prepared a magnificent feast.
Rutgar, becoming more mad by the day, only saw it fitting that he taste the young girl before she was married. He was their lord after all.
Even though he had never been bestowed a lord's title, no one ever dared leave it out when addressing him.
The monstrous act was a drop in an already full cup, and the peasants swore Rutgar's downfall and Taina's rescue.
The day was full of bloodshed and the crows feasted that night.
Rutgar died in his bed, undressed, weeping, as if a final attempt to disgrace whatever honour he had left.
When Ofelion returned from his two-day trip to the neighboring town, to trade sheep for horses, he found only a smoking rubble. His father and every man that had taken up swords against the peasant mob, were clung up in the trees.
With his back everturned to his former home, he rode towards the nearest city, swearing never to not set foot on the lands of Ironcast, until he had outweighed all the wrong his father had ever caused.
Nickname/Alias: Ofelion
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Baseborn Human
Height: 188 cm
Weight: 82 kg
Hair: Chestnut Brown
Eyes: Blue
Skin: White and rough.
Identifying Marks: Vague but long scars cover his back across in a neat pattern. They all look to be tended to by an expert physician.
Appearance: The first thing you notice on Ofelion's face is the thin line mouth, as if carved into his head. Eyes of His skin bears signs of heavy physical use, but not of overstrain.
Physically and mentally he is fit but looks to have fed on a minimum diet for some time now, leaving the body lean and muscled.
Upon first arriving in Altera and Port Silver, his clothes, that look to be above middle-class origin, are almost in rags and hang loosely from his body. His chain mail is rusty and battered, but still serves its purpose.
Biography:
Having abandoned his family's barren lands at Twoforks, Ofelion seeks a new place for him in Altera. He bring with him naught but grudge and all powerful will to succeed.
His upbringing on the lands of the Ironcast family was not a tale to be told lightly.
In the shadow of the stony hills, on the shore of the salty waters and on the dried out rocky earth, a hold of stone and wood rose. These walls, that had held the stormy powers of the sea at bay for generations, were more of a prison than a home to him.
Rutgar, his father, the self-proclaimed lord of Irongard, was more menacing and colder than the stones of that wall. Quick on the whip, he shaped Ofelion's childhood with pain and lecturing of the hardship of men.
It seemed to Ofelion, that it was a miracle that the cobblestones of the courtyard had not stayed a permanent red, with all the blood he and his brothers had shed on them.
His father would always hold a special place in Ofelions heart. That place being the hatred that drove Ofelion through hardships where normal men stopped.
Even now, many years after the death of Rutgar, Ofelion still regarded his father's cowardice a spot on his family already splattered banner.
Rutgar had, as a young man, fought under the banners of Queen Grief, against the kings of Altera. When the war had seemed lost, he had stuck his tail between his legs and run on home.
On returning home he had told lies to his family of his valours in war.
But the war soon caught up with him, and his entire family perished when the great battle for Twoforks took place in PC158. Only Rutgar himself, who was coward enough to hide in the hidden cellars of his family hold, had survived the ordeal.
When the fleeing armies of Queen Grief and the mighty hosts of the kings had moved the battlefield away from Twoforks, there were no one to proclaim Rutgar a liar and a coward.
So he took Irongard for his own, ruling the peasants harder than need be.
Ofelion had been born in PC 185 from the loins of a simple maid to the hold. Just one of the many other sons, born from the tyranny of Rutgar Ironcast.
All of Ofelion's brothers were bastards like himself, but Ofelion was far from the first born, and land and titles were an impossibility. His life was destined to play out in the stables of Irongard, or at best he might make a name for himself as a sellsword.
But Ofelion knew his family's history, for he had spent many an hour with his eyes in the books of his ancestors. They told the tale of valor and bravery in the years after the creation. Irongard had once been a powerful outpost, built with the labour of fine men. Not run by petty cowards as his father.
Honour and family bound him to Irongard, even though his father did not deserve his service. Where else could he go?
The day that the peasants had risen, taken up their hayforks and marched on the castle had not come as a surprise to Ofelion. The only surprise lay in why they had waited so long.
Rutgar had two days previously sent his household guard to the village, to bring him Taina.
Taina was a maid of only 15, betrothed to the son of the mayor. They were to be married in a fortnight and the town had prepared a magnificent feast.
Rutgar, becoming more mad by the day, only saw it fitting that he taste the young girl before she was married. He was their lord after all.
Even though he had never been bestowed a lord's title, no one ever dared leave it out when addressing him.
The monstrous act was a drop in an already full cup, and the peasants swore Rutgar's downfall and Taina's rescue.
The day was full of bloodshed and the crows feasted that night.
Rutgar died in his bed, undressed, weeping, as if a final attempt to disgrace whatever honour he had left.
When Ofelion returned from his two-day trip to the neighboring town, to trade sheep for horses, he found only a smoking rubble. His father and every man that had taken up swords against the peasant mob, were clung up in the trees.
With his back everturned to his former home, he rode towards the nearest city, swearing never to not set foot on the lands of Ironcast, until he had outweighed all the wrong his father had ever caused.
