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.”

## Traits/Ideals/Bonds/Flaws

### 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.