Name: Orso Gender: Male Age: 30 Faction of Birth: Rhodok Allegiance: Mercenary for Hire Experience: Elite FeudalRank: Minor Noble
Appearance: Stands above average height (tall), athletic build (despite his poor drinking habits he is a career soldier), keeps his hair short and his beard is medium length (although often unkempt when traveling), black hair, gray eyes,
Personality: Orso is a capable soldier, an iron-willed individual and a skilled leader of men. He has the ability to keep those serving under him going even in the darkest of times and far longer than they would under other circumstances. Unfortunately for all of his strengths, Orso is prone to bouts of excess drinking and on occasion can display a poor temper. He disdains needless ceremony and the rules of polite society, however, he is friendly and agreeable in most situations. He has little patience for braggarts and fools, is quick to deal with either.
Talents: Orso is a trained soldier and skilled with most manners of arms. Unlike a great many nobles of Rhodok origin he is an able and accomplished horseman.
Biography: Orso ____ was born in the first months of 1227, in the small Rhodok village of Buvran to ____ ____ and _____ ______. His father was a retired mercenary captain of company that had served the Rhodok kingdom for the better part of a century and his mother was the daughter of a prominent local farmer.
The oldest son in a long line of professional soldiers and mercenaries, Orso grew up learning the ways of war. Following in the footsteps of his father, when he came of age Orso became a professional soldier and entered into the employ of Count Rimusk. A capable leader and gifted tactician Orso rose through the ranks in the following years, securing a position commanding a sizable number of men, and leading a detachment of the soldiers in 1245 during a brief military campaign conducted against the Kingdom of Swadia.
However, after a bitter falling out with Count Rimusk, Orso chose to became a mercenary captain and formed a company of his own. However, the Rhodoks were loathe to lose a skilled commander and Orso was quickly retained by Count Talbar. Mounted on light horses and specializing in fast but devastating skirmishing tactics and ambushes the small company of Rhodoks managed to win a number of unexpected victories. The success of his unorthodox tactics garnered Orso much acclaim and he earned a reputation as one of the most promising military commanders of his age.
In 1249, he was tasked with resolving the so-called “Rebellion of the Seven” and defeated the gathered rebel barons that threatened the Rhodok city of Yalen. This great feat earned him many accolades and uncommonly for a commoner, Orso was subsequently elevated to the ranks of the nobility by King Graveth himself, becoming the Baron of Buvran.
The following year King Graveth allied with tribesmen opposed to Sultan Hakim of the Sarranid Sultanate to regain territory lost to the Sultanate in 1245. Orso was called in under the command of Count Talbar, defeating the Sarranids at the bloody battle of Caraf Castle in November. Despite a string of early Rhodok victories, the war quickly deteriorated into a bloody stalemate.
In a last desperate attempt to win the war, Orso and his company were sent far into the heart of the Sultanate with the hope that they would cause enough chaos to weaken the resolve of the Sarranids and at the very least to secure better terms for the Rhodoks in the imminent peace treaty that was sure to follow.
Surrounded by Sarranid hosts on all sides and assailed by the merciless desert Sun the company of mercenaries fought a desperate series of running battles. Eventually, succumbing to the oppressive heat and lack of supplies, the company was routed and scattered into the wind. In the weeks that followed, precious few of the mercenaries managed to escape the pursuing Sarranids, Orso among them.
Orso returned to the Rhodok Kingdom a changed man, full of bitterness and sorrow he turned to alcohol and began to nurse a growing hatred towards the liege he felt had left him to die in the endless sea of sand. Unwilling to return to the service of Count Talbar or the Rhodok Kingdom, Orso has instead embarked upon a succession of hopeless mercenary expeditions and minor jobs, earning just enough to continue to drown his sorrows in a bottle.
Worn (Clothing/Armor): When dressed for battle Orso wears a black surcoat over mail. To further guard against the the impact of any blows he also wears a thick, brown gambeson beneath his armor. His hands are protected by mail mittens, his feet rest inside a pair of splinted greaves and over a padded coif he wears a full helm of a distinctly Rhodok design.
However, even when combat seems far at hand Orso is known to dress pragmatically and without the gaudy taste of other nobles. If free to choose, he wears a a pale brown tunic fringed with silk, simple hose over his lower limbs, and a pair of well-made turnshoes. He prefers a thick, hooded cloak of Swadian wool, dyed a dark shade of red for riding and in winter he dons a close-fitting Vaegirian coat lined with fur.
Weapons (melee weapons, shields and ranged weapons): As a knight and experienced soldier, Orso is rarely is found far from his long arming sword, a parting gift from Count Talbar for his loyal years of service. He favors a heater shield of solid construction and a double sided lance for mounted combat, holding quick lighting strikes against his foes in high esteem. When meeting the enemy in close quarters Orso is quick to employ his military hammer to deadly effect, having found that more often than not an armored foe is more easily dispatched with a brutal instrument of war than with an expensive blade. Like most knights Orso also carries a cruel misericorde with him in order to dispatch a wounded or heavily armored enemy.
Horse: Orso has been generously loaned a courser by Bertram, a dapple gray stallion named Nalst, a prize won following a series of successful wagers on the part of the elderly merchant.
Miscellaneous: While Orso has ensured that supplies enough to last the journey to Dhirim are kept safely secured on his horse, he has also managed to convince one of the caravan drivers to ferry a sizable amount of alcohol from his personal stock.
Name: Geros Paulos Soter
Faction of Birth: Kingdom of Rhodoks
Allegiance: His employer, the generous and most noble Lord Bertram
Appearance: Small and lithe Paulos is best described as a dandy. Making the most of his role as majordomo and valet to Lord Bertram he dresses in expertly tailored tunics and silks. Even his over cloak is of high quality. His chestnut hair is of middling length and he keeps it slicked back with aromatic oils. A pencil thin mustache gives him a slightly sinister look.
Personality: Spiteful and cowardly, but intensely loyal to his master Paulos always views himself as the smartest person in any conversation.
Talents: Read and write most common tongues, an expert rider, cook, and accountant. A fair hand with a sewing needle or cobbler's tools. Learned the art of haggling from Master Bertram. Pours a fine glass of wine.
Biography: The second son of a seventh son Geros Paulos Soter was raised in poverty. Sold as an apprentice to a tailor in the city of his birth he counted himself among the few lucky enough to learn a trade. A clever lad Paulos's first master made sure he learned his letters and numbers. An occasional beating with a yew branch insured that the young man paid attention to his lessons and instilled a healthy respect for those of higher station. Following the end of his apprenticeship he worked as the tailor's assistant until his skill, manners, and appropriate level of groveling caught the eye of one of the tailor's patrons, the infamous Merchant Lord Bertram. Bribed away from his old teacher Paulos has served Bertram for many years. Seeing to his lord's estate when he's absent or accompanying him into foreign lands when required.
Worn: Colourful and well maid tunic, high quality hosen or breeches depending on the weather and Khergit leather shoes. A matching leather belt worn about his waste holds a decorative scabbard with a finely made short sword.
Weapons: Short sword. Decorative but functional. Paulos would more than likely hurt himself if he had to use it.
Horse: A young piebald mare named Anna. Well behaved and smooth in trot. Anna is friendly and curious of strangers. Big fan of fruit.
Name: Qualug Tarkhan
Faction of Birth: Khergit
Allegiance: His horse and himself
Feudal Rank: Freeman
Appearance: Hardened and weather from a lifetime on the steppes, Qualug is you're standard Khergit. 5'9, a light 130lbs, ragged, looks out of place anywhere not on a horse and in the steppes.
Personality: Standoffish and un-engaging, Qualug dislikes cities, boats, the sand and highborn nobles. He is fully willing to commit acts of outlawry and other such foul acts, but would rather remain a decent person in the eyes of the law.
Talents: Riding, Horse-archery, Path-finding, tracking and spotting. And stealing things. He does that to.
Biography: Born to a shepard in Ada Kulum, he was passed to a band of steppe raiders under the command of Altan Uruk Kashiktan at the tender age of 15. The veteran raider used Qualug to hold his horses, until he eventually took the young lad under his wing and trained him in the art of light cavalry and horsemanship. Bloodied in innumerable raids, Qualug remained with the band until Altan finally settled down. After altan left, the band fell into pure steppe banditry, eventually being smashed by a pair of pissed of Noyans. Qualug managed to escape, and decided to lay low for a few years. The Kingdom of Rhodoks sounded like a good bet, Altan rarely going into those mountains with his band.
Of course, he still needs to eat, and has no skills other then those of a bandit outrider.
Weapons (melee weapons, shields and ranged weapons): Round cavalry shield, Iron war axe, dagger, Vaegirian War Bow, Khergit Arrows quiver x2. (Note: In typical Khergit fashion, his quivers are slung across the hindquarters of his mount and not carried personally. This means that his warbow is useless unmounted, and thus almost always left with his steed.)
Horse: Arkrijuth, mare, flighty and nimble light blue Roan Hunter.
Miscellaneous: Regular outrider kit, wine and waterskin, blankets, the like.
Experience: He is a veteran soldier. He has been soldiering for thirteen years
Feudal Rank: A free tenant (I.e. a commoner)
Appearance: He is 5'7”, has brown eyes, an unshaven rough face with premature lines, and mid-length light brown hair that is already greying. Still recovering from his last injury.
Personality:Sanguine, he is gregarious and a loquacious type, and he values the ideals inherent to Temperance such as restraint, duty and self-discipline.
Talents: Although he has had early practise in the use of the long- and shortbow, he is not experienced with a full-poundage warbow. He prefers and is experienced in the use of spear, and is adept with a sword and shield for when pressed. Has fought from horseback but only in pursuit of routed foes. He was responsible for the training and welfare of his own vintaine, has a passing knowledge in some forms of healing learnt through experience, repairs all his own weapons, hunts, and has spent some time with seige equipment.
Biography: Eadmund was born back in 1228, in Suno, to freeman Walter Howe, a keeper of an inn. Eadmund's mother, Edith, was the daughter of a local bowyer. Eadmund was the second eldest of four siblings; two sisters and a younger brother. Growing up, he was apprenticed as a hostler at his father's inn and also helped in bookkeeping. His maternal household practised with some of his grandfather's bows and had matches (that they usually won) against fellow guilds-men.
At the age of sixteen, he was levied to serve with his liege, Count Klargus, in the forces loyal to the current Swadian king. After developing a taste for foreign things and finding that he enjoyed soldiering, he joined with a company of mercenaries after serving in the levy for the contracted period. Over the next thirteen years he marched under the company's banner into the lands of the easterners and through the lands of home. The mercenary company had soldiers from many nations – mainly Swadians and northern Nords but also leavened with Vaegirs, southerners of Rhodok, and a few eastern folk – all tempted to come have a profitable time or escape a gaol sentence under the employ of the company. At twenty-one, he earnt his right to command his own vintaine (a unit of twenty), finding himself adept at leading men and training new recruits. For reasons of ease and of prudence, he decided to indulge in the many cultures of his fellows. In 1250, he married Sibylle, clothier and eldest daughter of his mother's engineering cousin who he met during a siege upon the Khergits. Through the latter, he learnt about the mechanics of siege warfare, especially about the machines. In 1254, then with child, Sibylle left to live with Eadmund's family back in Suno. His three-year-old daughter is named Adeliza. All are in good health.
A recent skirmish has left him with a gammy left arm, a result of being run into by a stray horse.
Left company service and is currently in Jelkela to find service with one of the rich litsters or velvet producers or even in the king's service itself.
Worn (clothing/armor): When travelling he simply wears normal clothes like a green tunic, maroon hose with leg-wrappings, turnshoes, leather gloves, a green cloak with yellow embroidery etc. When properly outfitted, he wears an off-white gambeson and a padded-coif under a nasal helmet. These last items are kept in panniers on his horse. Used to wear a red and black tabard but this was lost.
Weapons (melee weapons, shields and ranged weapons): He usually carries an arming sword, a quartered black-&-white kite shield, and an old-style seax. His primary weapon when properly outfitted is a lugged spear of five cubits sometimes with a pennon affixed which would be the company livery (a yellow sun in splendour dawning behind breaking waves underneath a red sky); this is usually carried strapped to his horse.
Horse: Has a dark bay rouncey named Amarante
Miscellaneous (anything else): Also carried are supplies such as tallow, a touchstone, food, cider etc. kept in panniers. Found himself a Heretic's Fork.[/size][/size]
Biography: Born unto the chief family of a small wandering tribe of desert nomads, the Al-Asshur. His people travel from Oasis to Oasis with a herd of Camels, living off of the sparseness of the Sarrdak. From a young age Goman was taught the ways of the horseman, and not coddled even though he was the son of the Tribe's Chief. The small size of their tribe was both a strength and a weakness. They were a highly mobile and skilled warrior people, and weakness was not tolerated. But they entered into a blood feud with another tribe, a much larger tribe, over a theft of water and subsequent murder. Forced to flee, Goman hides his face and his name. He lives on while keeping his head down, and listening to orders as a guard in the caravans.
Appearance: A wrinkly fourty something years old man with a long brown beard and long hair, his skin is the typical color of a Swadian who spent time at war. Thedran's a 5'10" tall man and he weights about 160 pounds, his shape isn't as good due to the few years he spent away from the battlefield or a blacksmith.
Personality: Most of his illusion weere shattered by the wars he took part of, this also lead him to act with more care than he used to, avoiding combat when possible, but certainely not shying away from it when necessary. He has started to develop mild alcoholism, and wasted more than one pay on it.
Talents: Well trained swordsman, not a match for a knight but about as good as you can be as a mercenary, he's also quite capable as a blacksmith, and his and his companion gear is kept in fighting shape for a long time. Able to hunt animals with a crossbow, but not really proficient at it to the point where he'd reliably fight with one. Can read with some difficulties.
Biography: Thedran grew up in Suno, as the son of one of the many blacksmiths in the city. At about fourteen years old his father decided he's be old enough to start working at the family workshop, and so Thedran started to learn the crafts of blacksmithing. This what he would do for the next twelve years, in the meanwhile hatching plans of his own to begin his life as a mercenary. The forge was not all that busy or profitable, and Thedran used his spare time to craft his own sword, based on the same many knights used in battle. Having many brothers and sisters, his decisions wasn't all that badly received by his father, who gave him his blessing and good pair of mail mittens for his troubles. Thedran spent the next fifteen years of his life under the service of count Klargus, honing his skills. His first battle was agaisnt the Sarranids, and he was quickly knocked out by a Mamluke charging towards his line. Luckily for Thedran, peace was quickly settled and he wouldn't have to go and fight before a while, giving him plenty of time to train under the Count more experienced mercenaries and soldiers. The next battle went far better for Thedran, once again battling the Sarranids, he would walk out of this one on his feet, even killing his first man. Thedran would carry on fighting for his count for another fifteen years, using his meagre pay to eventually afford better equipement. He fought all sorts of enemies, from bandits plagueing the countryside to Nords, Rhodoks, Vaegirs and Khergits. As an infantryman, the mounted archers were one of the worst challenge he had to deal with, this has left him with a strong dislike of the Khergits. In 1255, Thedran ended his years of services to the Count and began his life as a wandering mercenary, a life away from massive battles, but certainly not as lucrative as the employ of a nobleman. His travels led him to the Lucky Dog.
Worn (clothing/armor): A simple green tunic and reinforced leather boots when not travelling/fighting //////// A flat topped helmet, haubergeon, leather boots and mail mittens otherwise.
Weapons (melee weapons, shields and ranged weapons): A long arming sword, a dagger and a reinforced heater shield
Horse: a donkey to carry whatever doesn't fit in his pack
Miscellaneous (anything else): whetstone, basic blacksmith tools (hammer, pincers, 15 pounds anvil), a small supply of ale and salted fish, a hatchet, flint and stone, furs, plates and metal bowl to cook food, waterskin.
In the field
Expanded inventory, missing a few things, the horse is representing a donkey
Stats pictures, not really anything, but that's about the stats I'd give him if we were all playing the game, his 1h WPF is kinda low, but that's just because its a cheated character, they'd be higher on a normally leveled up character
Gwynn (**** you archaic/foreign letters) - Teofish
Name: Rhéodh Brhéan Gwynlàthran (Usually just called Gwynn for short).
Age: Neither he nor anyone else know for certain. But by his looks he's somewhere between 35 and 45.
Faction of Birth: Somewhere in the border regions of southern Swadia/North eastern Rhodok territories. What was once the old lands of the Battanians.
Allegiance: Flexible. But will never fight for a Vaegir. And will never engage in looting or banditry of any sort.
FeudalRank: Technically minor nobility in his village. But by Sassenach standards he's just a commoner, if even that.
Appearance: A middling-tall man at 1.85m, with a build more graceful than the usual broad muscularity of a common soldier. Described as "moving like a prowling wolf". His face and body are both covered in a mix of grizzly scars and tattoos of runes and symbols of his ancestral folk. His jet black hair falls down to the middle of his back, but is usually held out of his face by braids at his temples used to tie it back. He also sports a fierce handlebar mustache hanging down in braids to his chest. His eyes are deep green and piercing, but with a subtle hint of malevolent humour and "joie de vivre".
Personality: At first glance a simple roaring brute. But his brash demeanour belies an intelligent, calculating and inquisitive mind. Even though he'd never admit to such. In battle he adopts a strangely graceful savagery, often seen weaving amongst opponents like a whirlwind of controlled fury, more akin to a fencer than the lumbering barbarian he looks. His deep and strangely melodious voice usually speaks his mind in a blunt and direct manner, except for his penchant for odious swearing. But it can also some times, mostly when he's been drinking, produce deeply melancholy songs from his people's ancient oral tradition.
Talents: Skilled in the use of most conventional weapons. But mostly with the distinctive greatswords his people use as well as hatchets/axes, smaller blades and the fearsome war-scythe. He is proficient, but not superbly skilled in the use of bows. He is also quite adept at moving quicly and stealthily in nature, and tracking/hunting/pathfinding. He is a surprisingly decent cook, and has a wonderfully deep and melancholic singing voice. Quite a strong swimmer. Inexperienced to the point of near uselessness as a rider, and is generally sceptical of horses. Not great with people of higher standings or "soft" city folk.
Biography: Born in a small village in the forests and foothills of the Swadian/Rhodok borderlands as part of one of the last remaining Battanian communities in Calradia, who following the collapse of their kingdom under Swadian pressure had reverted back to their more tribal and isolationistic ways. He was the youngest of four sons of the tribal chieftain. As all of his folk he fought from a young age with his kin against the bandit clans than infested the nearby forests and mountains when they came to raid the village. And being of somewhat slighter build than his brothers, he learned quickly that he would have to be quick if he did not desire to be dead. But being the oungest of four he was never entitled to any prominent positions within the village. Hating the idea of living his life in his brothers' shadows, he eventually set out to make his fortune in the service of the great nations. He spent time as a mercenary in the armies of both the Nords, Rhodoks, Swadians and even in service to a Caliph of the distant Sarranid Sultanate. His skills served him well in leading smaller skirmisher bands and supply raids. And earned some repute. He eventually met the daughter of a Sarranid wine merchant and eloped with her when her father disaproved of him. They settled down in a village north of Dhirim, and had two daughters. But one day a Vaegir war party, hired by a Boyar bent on igniting a war with Swadia to reclaim territory his father had lost years ago, fell upon the village while Gwynn was out hunting. seeing the black smoke rising above the treetops he hurried back, only to find both the village and his homestead burned and looted, and his wife and daughters dead. He followed the Vaegir raiding party for six days until he finally caught up with them at the southern borders of the tundra south of Khudan. There they had camped in a small forested vale among the foothills of the mountains dividing the Vaegir lands from the northern Khergit steppes. None of the Vaegirs walked out of that vale. He waited until nightfall, then snuck in and slit the watchmen's throats. Then he proceeded to hack nearly every sleeping man to a pulp with his hatchet. Finally, when he got to the leader of the group, he tied the man down, cut off his hands and feet, cut out his tongue so he could not scream, then nailed him to a nearby tree through his arms and legs with tentpoles and watched from nearby as he was eventually eaten from the legs and up by the local wildlife. To this day he still carries the man's index finger-bone with the names of his wife and daughters engraved in the old runes. Afterwards he simply drifted from place to place doing odd jobs during planting and harvest season, and living off the land the rest of the year. Hunting and killing any bandits and such whenever he found them. At some point he picked up his trusty wolfhound Boadicea. He no longer remembers how long he was wandering, but with the times turning sour across the lands, and deserters and bandits growing ever bolder and more numerous along the roads, he started to realise that his grieving and anger were tools made futile without purpose. So he began signing up with smaller merc bands protecting caravans and such in order to better utilise his skills for a nobler purpose.
Worn: A ragged outfit of a kilt-like fashion with an old and battered brigandine cuirass, old wrapped boots patched with bark and hide, a rugged backpack made of fur and a fur cloak.
Weapons: Chipped and rusted Heavy Bastard Sword, light hide shield, hatchet, two heavy throwing daggers and a short bow with a quiver of simple self-made arrows.
Horse: None. But he's accompanied by his wolfhound Boadicea.
Miscellaneous (anything else): A set of small bone needles and other implements for sewing either hides, clothing, wounds etc. Two cured deer-bladder waterskins, and a similar container for dried meats and other rations. Carries some smaller knives for whittling kindling and such. A steel spark-striker. Various bits and pieces of leather straps, hemp rope and such. And a honing stone.
Allrightie, all done. I think. Give me your harshest judgement.