Ganelon

Half-orc, Rune Knight Fighter

Criminal

CHARACTER SHEET

Ganelon has brown skin, long black dreadlocks, and intense green eyes. He's a hulking yet agile man. He wears rune-inscribed armor, and carries two distinctive weapons: a wicked greataxe, and an oversized greatsword he calls "the Iron".

Birth and childhood

Lenore was a half-orc prostitute in the town of Telios. She was a good-natured person and many of her clients enjoyed her company just to talk at times.

One of her regular customers was a large northern merchant, who visited Telios once a year on business. The man was a rune smith, a rare type of blacksmith capable of carving magical runes. The blood of the giants was in his veins and his golden beard was his pride.

Lenore was usually very careful to take the right potions when needed, so as not to be burdened by a child, but as fate would have it, maybe the potion didn't work, maybe she forgot to take it, nine months after the last visit of the northman, Ganelon was born.

The boy had the dark skin of his mother's human half, combined with the toughness of orcs. From his father, he had inherited deep green eyes.

Lenore did not keep Ganelon a secret, but the northern man had no intention of marrying her, and neither did she. But when he came to see her once a year, he always spent some time with the boy, to teach him how to forge and carve runes. Ganelon was eager to learn a profession and showed great talent. One day, when Ganelon was 12, the northener gave him a blacksmith's hammer. That was the last year he visited Telios. Ganelon never met him again.

Teen years

But not all of the brothel's clients were gentle giants. There were merchants and travelers, but also mercenaries and criminals. Ganelon earned some coins by fixing horseshoes and sometimes armor for clients, and occasionally stealing from them while they were "busy".

What he stole, he sold to the local thieves' guild. It was then that he began to hang out with bad company. The happiest years of his life, actually.

Drinking, gambling, prostitutes, his "friends" knew how to have fun. What they needed, they stole. What they could not steal, they bought with the proceeds of their thefts. And what they couldn't buy, they took by force. His orc blood, combined with his father's massive build, and years spent at the forge, had made Ganelon a large, muscular man who wasn't afraid to use his fists when intimidation wasn't enough.

At the age of 15 he left the brothel and joined the guild as a full member as an executor. He indulged in his habits, earning a reputation as a drinker, gambler, and brute.

Adult life

Years passed and Ganelon ended up into slavery. According to the laws of Telios, he was send to a royal forge. The chief jailer recognized his skills as a blacksmith and used Ganelon to produce high-quality weapons that he would sell at great profit. In return, Ganelon would be given protection and permission to conduct illegal fights in the prison.

Ganelon put his great strength and skill with all kinds of weapons to good use , winning several fights. Above all, unbeknownst to the head jailer, he began to 'fix' the fights to maximize his profit.

Apparently, the head jailer got wind that something was happening and decided to teach Ganelon a lesson. When Ganelon received a visit from one of Lenore's colleagues who informed him that his mother had been killed, he lost his mind.

Over the years he had forged armor and weapons for the chief jailer, and every time he forged an object, he saved up some raw material for his own special project: a gigantic-sized blade he called "the Iron" . He recovered his weapon and then started a riot in the prison.

He made sure every single guard had been slaughtered, then walked into the head jailer's office and took his time with him.

When he calmly walked out of the room, he found no royal guards. He found the Guild.

He heard a female voice coming from under a heavy cloak, accompanied by the hiss of snakes.

"You cost us a lot of money, Ganelon," she said. Or was it the snakes talking?

"Do what you have to do. I don't care if I live or die", Ganelon said defiantly.

The hood fell off and unnatural snake eyes looked at him. "Live? Die? No, I have something else in mind for you." He felt his body stiffen. Then he understood. Then the darkness.

This was 19 years ago.

The Present

The Guild keeps its petrified prisoners in several warehouses around the city. Recently, one of these places was attacked and destroyed (by the PCs). The combination of the magical forces summoned to destroy the place, together with the magic used in the runes carved on Ganelon's weapons and armor, dispelled the magic that kept Ganelon petrified. He took advantage of the confusion and ran away.

Mathys Harclay "Mat"

Art by Fausto

Human, Psionic Mind Sorcerer / Psiblade Warlock

Urchin

It all started with the voices. My mother told me that sometimes she heard voices coming from my room, when I was still an infant. The voices were talking in a language she did not understand but they were hurting her ears.

Then she realized those voices were coming from me. I couldn't even speak the Common tongue, but somehow I was able to utter terrible sillables that sent shivers running down her spine.

They brought me to the local church, the blessings helped. The voices stopped, and eventually I learned to speak like everyone else.

Then came the whispers. I must have been 6 years old. At dinner, my father would put his head in his hands "make it stop!" he would say, to no one in particular. "It's spitting my head in two!" and he would run away, his chair would bang on the floor, sometimes his food and the plates too.

Then for a few days he would look at me like it was my fault. He's always been a wise man, my father. A hard-worker, just like my mother.

Art by Caterina

A couple of years later my little brother was born. I think they needed that. I've been a brooding child, a silent one (well, apart from the voices and the whispers) for most of my life. They needed a bit of happiness.

And I liked that little guy. When he was alone in the room, inside his crib, I would make his little wooden toys fly about him, to make him laugh.

I thought it was the right thing to do. But I was wrong. One day, my father entered the room, and he saw me, he saw the wooden toys flying around the room.

I will never forget his eyes. His gaze. He was confused, in the beginning, but then I saw it. He was disgusted. No. Disappointed.

"What are you?" he asked me. It was a good question. What was I? My mother arrived, as the toys begun to drop to the floor. She run to the baby, took him into her arms. She looked at me, with hate "He's a monster, that's what he is!" I think she meant it.

"I'm sorry?" I said. I think I was sorry to be such a disappointment. Maybe we just needed to go to the church again.

"What are we going to do with you?" my father asked me. Or maybe he asked my mother. "We should send him away" she said. I saw my father thinking hard. Was he really considering that?

Art by Fausto

I remember I wished I could be in his mind, to know what he was thinking. And then I was there. It's difficult to remember now, but I opened a door in his thoughts, poured myself in, and I tried to stay there. With him.

Then I was out. And he was on the floor. Blood was coming out of his nose, his ears. His eyes. My mother was terrified. She knelt on the floor, clutching the baby. He started to cry.

I extended a hand, I tried to speak.

"NO!" she shouted. "Don't hurt him!"

I would never hurt my little brother, I'm sure she knew that. She was just scared, I understand that now.

I looked at my father again. He wasn't moving. At all.

A tear started going down my cheek, how strange. "I'm sorry" I said again. I took one of the little wooden toys. I moved to the door. "I really am".

And I run.

Death (session 32): Stabbed to death by the goons of a slaver's guild.