Roan

 

Roan grew up in the woods of the Larrowmor enjoying music, dancing, fornicating and drinking. More than that, he enjoyed fighting. Displays of strength to impress the girls was one thing, but he liked weapons too. His first encounter with guns was life transforming and he was hooked. Training one day in the woods his group was attacked by undead. Though they fought them off it was his first indication of a real enemy in the world.

He liked it.

Nature should have been his thing but it never felt fully right. Blunt grey skies persisted overhead. The trees felt dull, everything felt dampened. He learned of the prison Lucius had been placed in and how he'd taken his paradise and ruined it for everyone.

Moving around the county looking for something to fight he played with new weaponry, maces, rifles, muskets as well as his natural weapons. Nether iron was quickly mentioned and the first shadows he encountered nearly killed him but for a heavy mace he'd bought only the week before. Not his favourite enemies to fight (lacking the physicality of flesh on flesh combat) but ones which made him feel good . Enemies that deserved killing. One day, if he could, perhaps he'd kill Lucius.

Winning a sizeable chunk of silver in a lucky run at dice he resolved to get his horns gilded at Clan Fallador, famed for their artistry with metal. His nether iron patterned horns now boast a pattern of oak leaves and acorns so that in head butting his enemy it leaves an ironic image of where they have been nutted.

His aim is to drink, fight and dance his way through life getting stronger and tougher, always looking for more challenging enemies but hearing of the blue skies and access to Allaveer in the other Hurssia his plans changed to living in a world where he can commune with nature without that block, see the actual sky and explore a new world. For once, he had hope.

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