Walker

Backstory
In Walker's own words:

“I grew up in a travelling merchant caravan. My father said he found me in the smoldering ruins of a city called Harvest Hearth amongst the debris of an orphanage. The caravan had planned to stop and trade, but when they arrived, the entire city lay in ruins. When they searched through the rubble for gold or anything of value, they found me instead.

My dad, a dragonborn, took me in and raised me as his son. He worked as a blacksmith for the merchants in the caravan, maintaining the wagons, tents, and various tools; he even made weapons and trinkets to barter with. I don’t know much about his past, only that he was exiled from his clan. He seldom spoke of that time in his life and I never pressed the point. Our makeshift family included another orphan, my tiefling brother Wilhelm. We found him getting beaten on the outskirts of a small village by his own parents. After we intervened, he followed us all the way to the next town. When dad caught him stealing food from us, he took him in.

The rest of the caravan was just as diverse. There were elves, a few halflings, even a dwarf. You can imagine the stares we'd receive at every stop along the way. Growing up with such an eclectic group had its benefits though. Most of the survival skills I know were learned from the merchants, but it was our Dad who trained Wilhelm and I in martial combat. He taught us to fight as he was taught, as every generation of every dragonborn from his clan are taught, and when Wilhelm and I were old enough we served as guards, protecting and defending the caravan as we travelled. It was easy enough, we never ran into any big trouble; a few goblins or bandits here and there but nothing we couldn’t handle.

Then we stopped off in a small village out in the middle of nowhere, the kind of place they don’t bother marking on a map. We’d been there once or twice before. The people were simple farmers, not much wealth, but this wasn’t a business stop anyway. The next settlement was 50 miles away and we needed supplies.

A few days in, some of our merchants caught wind of a terrible plague spreading through the village. People were dying all around us. The villagers...they were afraid; desperate, we could see it in their eyes, in the way they looked at us. There was blame in their gaze; blame and fear. We were no longer welcome.

The only rule that ever made sense to me I learned from my father, not the merchants or anyone we met in our travels. "Fear,” he used to say, “Fear is the most dangerous commodity in the universe, it can drive a man insane. Fear is a tyrant and a despot, more terrible than the rack, more potent than the snake. Do not give in to your fears. We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light."

Well that night, fear took hold of those villagers. When we tried to leave we found our horses dead, our wagons burning, and a mob of people surrounding us. Apparently, they believed the plague to be a curse; a curse that we delivered upon them, and in their ignorance they sought the help of a dark God. I don’t…remember everything that happened next. A cloud of arrows appeared overhead and my father; I don’t know how he did it, but he saved us. The next thing I knew, Wilhelm and I were running through a forest, but we were alone…alone and afraid. At some point we stopped and collapsed from exhaustion.

In the morning we decided to return and look for our friends and our father. We made it to the edge of the forest, the village was in view far ahead, but directly in front of us were a dozen pikes, each topped with the head of a merchant…our father among them…I cannot express to you the fury that washed over me in that moment, but I had only one thought; vengeance.

It took most of the day to bury our friends and family. When night fell, we made our way back to the village, but this time no one saw us coming. The guards were easily dispatched, then we set fire to the wooden wall surrounding the homes. After breaking into the nearest house, we dragged its single occupant out to the middle of the village where I cut off his hands. Then we waited. His screams drew the villagers out. They had no idea what they were in for. We let loose with everything we had. This wasn’t a fight, it was a slaughter. We killed as many of them as we could, but these people, they weren’t warriors, they could barely fight, and we picked them off like fish in a fucking barrel. Some we tortured, most we killed. We’d quenched our vengeful thirst but when morning came there was no sense of justice; no satisfaction. We murdered those people. They weren’t innocent, but their actions were guided by a dark god; ours…our actions were our own.

Later we found out that a few survivors had given our descriptions to an order of paladins, and we were being hunted. After several close calls, Wilhelm and I decided it would be safer for us to split up. That was 13 years ago, and I’ve been on the run every day since. I’m not proud of what I did, and I imagine someday my uppance will come. For now though I'm done running and I’m tired of being afraid.”

Personality Traits
I once ran twenty-five miles without stopping to warn my clan of an approaching orc horde. I’d do it again if I had to.

Ideals
Change. Life is like the seasons, in constant change, and we must change with it. (Chaotic)

Bonds
I will bring terrible wrath down on the evildoers who destroyed my homeland.

Flaws
Don’t expect me to save those who can’t save themselves. It is nature’s way that the strong thrive and the weak perish.