Heroes Die: An Iron kingdoms Tale

[Waylander the Slayer]

There are no heroes. What is a hero anyway, but just ordinary people who are pushed too far. Just remember that - there are no hero's here, but rather, ordinary people like you and me, who sometimes are pushed too far. The following is from the annals of the Dog Company, the year is 603 AR, the date, the 13th of Tempen, the week of Temptress fest. I am Kellar Rohl, sometimes chronicler, sometimes medic of the Dog Company.

 

[Waylander the Slayer]

The mercenary trade is a lucrative profession in the Iron Kingdoms. In fact, the Merc's have served through the rise and fall of kingdoms and emperors; from the Orgothian invasion to the rise and fall of the elder. To be a merc, you either have to be tosser, a halfhead or utterly deperate; most fall in the latter.

The Devil Dogs, or the Dog Company, as they are referred to by many a bloke has a long and illustrious history. i will not drive ye boxy with all the knickknacks; but you should know one important fact; on their vitage charter can one read, written in his own blood, by the founder Grigor Dorenski "Grigor V. Dorenski, 464 AR. Khador beware."

 

[Waylander the Slayer]

Character Introduction: Nephyr, Scout level 2

At first glance Nephr looks like what he claims to be: a snot nosed,
greasy haired teenager. His red hair is closely cropped along the
back of his skull, with long bangs hanging over his light colored
eyes, as if to hide from the world. His hair color, pale skin and
delicate features (if one can actually see beyond the grime which
usually covers him …at least until cajoled or threatened him into
bathing) reveal his Ryn heritage, but his accent sounds more Cygnaran,
if anything. Whether due to his tender years or racial heritage, his
face is empty of facial hair, but his expression is full of youthful
resentment. His appearance and manner tend to inspire people to
ignore and avoid him. However, if one pays attention, he occasionally
seems much older than his apparent years (he claims not to know his
age, and perhaps in that he is actually being truthful); sometimes,
when he thinks no one is watching, his expression seems worn down by
terrible grief or worry. If treated with compassion, his reaction is
to use sarcasm and obnoxious behavior to push anyone away, to maintain
his fierce privacy. He has learned many survival skills from his time
on the streets and has evidently made a conscious decision to be so
useful as to become indispensable to the group. He tends to look up
to the surlier members of the group, not seeming to fully trust the
nicer ones. Anyone who has spent an extended amount of time with him
eventually becomes aware of his facility with languages. He tends to
listen and observe closely to what goes on around him, but rarely adds
much to the conversation.

 

[Waylander the Slayer]

Introducing: Morgan Sinclair

There's something unsettling about Morgan Sinclaire. Maybe its the
contradiction of his boyish good looks and his somber demeanor. Maybe its his
dry and somewhat harsh sense of humor. Or maybe its the sense of suppressed
rage that emanates from him. More likely its the rather large bird of prey
staring menacingly at you from his shoulder. You certainly know that YOU could
never remain that calm with those razor sharp talons and that cruel beak so
close to YOUR eyes. However, it doesn't seem to phase Morgan. In fact, he
seems to draw comfort from it. Hence, the uncomfortable feeling you get when
you are in his presence.
You've heard stories all of your life about Druids; how people who cross them
are never seen again, how they kidnap small children for bizarre rituals, how
they will risk their lives to save a forest creature, but won't lift a finger to
save an entire village. From these tales, you always figured Druids were
wizened, old men and women with jagged features, ratty hair and rasping voices.
Thus, you are surprised by Morgan's fair skin, cherubic freckled face and auburn
hair. However, his hooded black cloak is a constant reminder that he belongs to
that group known as "The Circle". Also, when you look into his slate gray eyes,
you sense a hardness and fury there that belie his outer appearance. Because of
this, you haven't quite gotten to the point where you fully trust him . Yet, in
the time that you have worked together, you have come to rely on his tracking
skills, his knowledge of plants and the outdoors and his uncanny ability to
understand and communicate with animals. Throw in his magical abilities, and he
is a formidable ally...or enemy. At this point you are not 100% sure which
category he falls into. At the moment you are working as part of the same team,
but you have the feeling that this relationship could change depending on the
circumstances. After all, he IS a Druid.

 

[Waylander the Slayer]

Introducing: Yew

Me by Yew
Written by my own hand in Cygnarian

Hullo all! It’s Yew or for those of you that don’t remember my full name it’s Yew-ladar-uren-ralog-gekan-ahun-emun-anhek. This translates from gobbrish to Inovative Dreamer- Clever Craftsman- Always Ready-Efficient Tool Maker. AS you all know I’m a wee one standing at only 3’3” and 35 lbs of lean mean Gobber. I’m bald do to a mishap while playing with Alchemical formulas. (Sometimes things just aren’t supposed to be mixed, But you never know till Yew tries.) Too most of you I probably seem rather flighty, don’t focus and anything or accomplish anything. And you know??? You’re probably right. But hey it’s just there are so many things around to fix or in my case re-fix. Everything can be made to work again you just need to take the time, even though it’s usually longer than taking it apart in the first place. I can make just about anything given the time so it’s handy to keep me around. (Or so I hope)
SO now a little about the past, before meeting up with you all, I did so traveling. I’ve repeatedly tried to join the Steamos Union but keep failing at the initial test….Well more like keep getting thrown out and disqualified, See they put the this piece of mechanica, or sometime a small work jack in front of Yew and tell Yew to fix it. No problem… So I always start off really well, but then I realize hey this is taking to long sooooo I give I a W H A C K. Then they throw me out don’t know why at no point did they say Yew can’t Jack Wrench it. All they say is get it working, they don’t say how or for how long. So I’ve been labeled as a Bodger. I think it’s an ugly word, I’m mechanic Damn it! The Union guys even took to nicknaming me Gob-Bog, which is highly unflattering because when they say it with their accent it sounds like gar-bage. IT’S JUST NOT RIGHT.
Now back to other things, I have had some dealings with the black market and that’s where I met one of my closest friends (as well as one of the most annoying). He’s an Ogrun by the name of Gee-Lane Thanok. He was the muscle that was sent with me on several occasions. He’s not to bright but has a good heart. But he keeps referring to me as his pet. Hence the reason I told you all NEVER REFER TO ME AS A PET! Anyway though he’s great. Hopefully you’ll get to meet him; he follows after me almost like a puppy. (which indecently tastes like rabbit)
Finally we come to my other comrade? Friend? Master? Not totally sure what he’d be considered? His name is Oh-Ren Bloodborn, He’s a Tollkin, well sort of. He’s a freak, not as big as other trols I’ve seen and he’s all white eww, how hard it is to hide when your that color. But then again he is always all covered in that muti-colored robbing. Any I kind of met him after I had gotten hungry and ate a gava lizard I saw walking along. BIG MISTAKE. It was some kind pet of his. The freak was going to kill me but I kind of talked him into not doing that evidently. I explained that I could help him get anything he needed to have for the weird stuff he’s into.
Anyway I hope this has been interesting at all to any of you, if not OH WELL!

 

[Waylander the Slayer]

Introducing: Jagger Kinkaid

There is much more to Jagger Kincaid than meets the eye. At first
meeting it is clear that Jagger is a hard man: the stubble-covered
wide jaw, the steely eyes under a prominent brow, the hard muscles
and barrel-chest of his powerful build are supplemented by an aura
of confidence and attitude. There is a swagger in his walk and
tenacity to his gaze. Think part John Wayne, part Wolverine, part
Keith Richards. He puffs on strong cigars, is fond of stronger
spirits and never shies from a fight.

But Jagger also speaks and reads five languages, is possessed of a
razor-sharp memory and dazzling storehouse of facts and trivia, can
hold a barroom or courtroom spellbound with his deep, hypnotic voice
and commanding presence and can recite long passages from any number
of history texts¡ªand offer intelligent critique thereof.

Then there is the sorcery. Raised in Corvis, at adolescence he
began to exhibit a command of supernatural forces. His parents, a
simple working¡¡class smith and his wife, feared for his life, as
those who exhibited sorcerous powers were often feared and reviled,
and consequently sent him off to the Strategic Academy where he
could channel his gift into the more socially-accepted role of a war-
bard.

For ten years Jagger studied and trained at the Academy and served
with the Cygnaran military. He learned history, languages, ancient
scripts, creature lore and¡ªmore importantly¡ªhow to control his
sorcerous gift. But Jagger is too much of a free-spirit and
iconoclast to be a career military man. Four years ago he left the
military life to pursue his fortune as a mercenary, relic-hunter,
campaigner and seeker of knowledge and thrills.

Jagger is a couple inches short of six feet, and his build is broad
and thick-muscled. His thick brown hair is unruly, his eyes the
color of steel and his complexion tanned and ruddy. He wears a fine
chain shirt beneath his sepia-colored leather greatcoat, and a
stabbing sword and masterwork blunderbuss¡ªnicknamed ¡°Bessie¡±¡ªare
always strapped to his side. Goggles, mechanik¡¯s boots, a brace of
throwing knives and a concealed dagger in slip harness round out the
effect.

 

[Waylander the Slayer]

Alesha Popovich is a second son of Mikhaylo Popovich, grandson of Ilya Popovich, one of the most prominent Khadorian nobles. The Popovich family has ancient roots, claiming that it is direct descendant from mysterious “bogatiri” of the old Empire. The ancestral land of the family located at southern part of Khard, but the head of the family usually lived in the capital. Recently the Popovich family fell from favor with the Queen’s Vanar court. The Queen policy of isolation and hostility toward southern neighbors hurt Popovich’s trade business. As influential noble family, Popovich took the lead in attempts to dissuade the Queen from precipitating the war with Cygnar and its allies but that attempt was thwarted by pro-war fraction of the court and Popovich family had to flee from their country hours before they were proclaimed as traitors of the Motherland and enemies of the Crown. Since then the family moved into Cygnar and lives in Caspia, guests of King Leto.

He enlisted into Cygnaran branch of the Order of Morrow – Knights of the Prophet but local knights in the face of war with Khard could not completely trust even a paladin from the country of potential enemy. Alesha was sent into the world as a free agent of the Order. Lack of trust hurt Alesha a lot but he accepted it as one of Morrow’s trials and instead decided to continue to serve his god and the people in some other fashion. Alesha joined Devil’s Dog mercenary company for time being where he met other PC's.

 

[Waylander the Slayer]

Deepport; the city of the rising sun – it’s bleached walls protect it from the howling winds that blow from the Bay of Stone. It is bordered to the south by the foreboding Gnarl woods. Yet it is a thriving city in it’s own right- Its proximity to Five Fingers and the twelve day road make it a natural hub for traders, so does the natural harbor that has been carved into the surrounding hills by the unforgiving wind. It is not a place that is easy or forgiving; the skies are almost always overcast and heavy down pours are the norm. The city, from a distance, looks verdant and green, but this is but a fallacy; upon a closer look, it becomes evident that the city is under constant threat from the predatory Vines and creepers that seem to envelop everything that is left untended, mayhap greedy to absorb the constant moisture and dampness in the air.

The raw recruits, also known as the 6th company of the Devil Dogs had been dispatched here; It was "campaigning season" after all...