Name: Beldrin Heios Rethsbane
Nickname/Alias: Bel
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Height: 5.7
Weight: 150 lbs
Hair: Very dark brown
Eyes: Light Hazel
Skin: Paler than most
Identifying Marks: A small scar running from the top of his left brow down the length of his face.
Appearance: Beldrin wear a light brown tunic, slightly frayed at the edges, over a full suit of chainmail. The tunic bears the insignia of an unknown family or house; when asked about the crest, Beldrin most always sidesteps the question.
Strengths: Smart and cunning when the situation calls for it, and with a silver tongue to match.
Weaknesses and fears:Beldrin's biggest flaw is his past, specifically regarding his father and brothers strange disappearance. When asked by the few who knew him, he becomes defensive and aggressive. It is also his greatest fear and obsession.
Religion and cults: His father and surrounding village where he previously resided worshipped a strange dragon from a distant realm, and this is the only god Beldrin has ever known, though he still knows little of even this.
Profession: His father had once called him and all his blood, Keepers, though he was never explained as to what they "kept" exactly. He is quite fond of redstone contraptions, so perhaps Engineer?
It had been nearly 2 weeks since Ambrose and Dorian had vanished. The towns people had begun to whisper and gossip as to why the old man had not made a bigger fuss, rather he just retreated into the manor. Sulking around the library muttering to himself, pouring over EVERY...SINGLE...book and parchment I was never allowed to read. Never acknowledging their deaths, never sending a search party out, or even making statement as to their sudden disappearance. But everyone knew something was amiss.
The blacksmith, upon special request from my father, had made two beautiful blades of the finest diamonds just the night before for my brothers, Dorian and Ambrose. They had sparred quite openly in the courtyard, laughing and joking with eachother about who would attain the most glory. Glory for what? There was not great battle to be won, or any threat to be dealt with. Things were peaceful...right? The last I saw of my brothers they were greated at the gate to our manor by my father, smiling proudly at them whilst leading them to the main house. Early in the morning I believe, for darkness still hung in the air, a large explosion racked the still quiet of the air and I was awoken, as were most of the servants. A small fire blazed just east of the library, in my fathers private work area. Several of the servants reached the scene before I could, and I could hear screams and sobs. I ran full tilt through the library, past burning books and a few servants muttering prays under their breath. Thick smoke filled the air as I closed in on my fathers workshop, forcing me to crouch low and greedily inhale the clean air closest to the ground. As I crouched low to take another breath I saw a length of...diamond..a thin piece conected to a an iron bit with scraps of leather hanging from it....a..hilt? As realization hits, all thoughts of haulting flee my head and I run as fast as I can towards the sound of my father screaming for all to return to their slumber. Colliding with my father as he stops my run dead, I see past his arms and attempts to cover my eyes, a tattered cloak, peices of chainmail littering the floor...and the ever recognizable shield of Ambrose...bent into an unatural shape...but no Ambrose...no Dorian...only smoke and bits left behind. The rest of the night being a blur, all I can rightly recall is my father gathering all who witnessed the events and swearing them to silence....threatening to silence as well. Not once did he make mention to my brothers having any involvement in the events....but I saw...the diamond blade...the..shield...I knew...And the tragedy that struck our fair hamlet not but 2 weeks later would put all that I thought I knew about our family to the ultimate test.
...More to come....
Nickname/Alias: Bel
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Height: 5.7
Weight: 150 lbs
Hair: Very dark brown
Eyes: Light Hazel
Skin: Paler than most
Identifying Marks: A small scar running from the top of his left brow down the length of his face.
Appearance: Beldrin wear a light brown tunic, slightly frayed at the edges, over a full suit of chainmail. The tunic bears the insignia of an unknown family or house; when asked about the crest, Beldrin most always sidesteps the question.
Strengths: Smart and cunning when the situation calls for it, and with a silver tongue to match.
Weaknesses and fears:Beldrin's biggest flaw is his past, specifically regarding his father and brothers strange disappearance. When asked by the few who knew him, he becomes defensive and aggressive. It is also his greatest fear and obsession.
Religion and cults: His father and surrounding village where he previously resided worshipped a strange dragon from a distant realm, and this is the only god Beldrin has ever known, though he still knows little of even this.
Profession: His father had once called him and all his blood, Keepers, though he was never explained as to what they "kept" exactly. He is quite fond of redstone contraptions, so perhaps Engineer?
It had been nearly 2 weeks since Ambrose and Dorian had vanished. The towns people had begun to whisper and gossip as to why the old man had not made a bigger fuss, rather he just retreated into the manor. Sulking around the library muttering to himself, pouring over EVERY...SINGLE...book and parchment I was never allowed to read. Never acknowledging their deaths, never sending a search party out, or even making statement as to their sudden disappearance. But everyone knew something was amiss.
The blacksmith, upon special request from my father, had made two beautiful blades of the finest diamonds just the night before for my brothers, Dorian and Ambrose. They had sparred quite openly in the courtyard, laughing and joking with eachother about who would attain the most glory. Glory for what? There was not great battle to be won, or any threat to be dealt with. Things were peaceful...right? The last I saw of my brothers they were greated at the gate to our manor by my father, smiling proudly at them whilst leading them to the main house. Early in the morning I believe, for darkness still hung in the air, a large explosion racked the still quiet of the air and I was awoken, as were most of the servants. A small fire blazed just east of the library, in my fathers private work area. Several of the servants reached the scene before I could, and I could hear screams and sobs. I ran full tilt through the library, past burning books and a few servants muttering prays under their breath. Thick smoke filled the air as I closed in on my fathers workshop, forcing me to crouch low and greedily inhale the clean air closest to the ground. As I crouched low to take another breath I saw a length of...diamond..a thin piece conected to a an iron bit with scraps of leather hanging from it....a..hilt? As realization hits, all thoughts of haulting flee my head and I run as fast as I can towards the sound of my father screaming for all to return to their slumber. Colliding with my father as he stops my run dead, I see past his arms and attempts to cover my eyes, a tattered cloak, peices of chainmail littering the floor...and the ever recognizable shield of Ambrose...bent into an unatural shape...but no Ambrose...no Dorian...only smoke and bits left behind. The rest of the night being a blur, all I can rightly recall is my father gathering all who witnessed the events and swearing them to silence....threatening to silence as well. Not once did he make mention to my brothers having any involvement in the events....but I saw...the diamond blade...the..shield...I knew...And the tragedy that struck our fair hamlet not but 2 weeks later would put all that I thought I knew about our family to the ultimate test.
...More to come....