Ugatir Beladur

## Bio

Born and raised in the *Agmul Vardis* capitol of Sagorim, Ugatir grew to be fascinated by the cycles of life including life, death and rebirth. He was born to an uncaring family and was abandoned at a young age. He resorted to pickpocketing during harsh times and began living in the dark alleyways of the city. In time, he learned to commune with the citizens of the swamp and the nature within it. Ugatir made a name for himself over the years and started his own thieves guild, but was betrayed by a long term friend, Alostat, and was killed. He awoke in swampland by some druids who explained that he'd been dead for a long time. Ugatir quickly realized he was undead, but was clueless as to how and why. He left Sagorim in search of answers about his new condition. In time, he came across a rogue army named the *Order of Ash* and felt a kindling with them since they were similar to him; a band of outcasts. He joined the rogue army and a year has passed. A druid named Ophelia from his circle became aware of his condition during that time.

## Player-Written Backstory

I was always fascinated with the cycles of life and death, birth and rebirth.  Born to a family who didn't care, into a world more harsh then I could have imagined.  I lived life as any boy who was abandoned by their family at a young age, any way I could.  I struggled for a time until I was taken in by a group of pickpockets and thieves.  Living in the dark alleyways  and byways of Sagorim, I learned not to just eke out a living from the streets and surrounding swamps, but to thrive.  I followed old teachings of swamp men and women who resided out in those lands, learning to commune with the nature around me.  Slowly gaining knowledge and clawing my way up the local food chain, I made a name for myself as someone who could get jobs done.  Able to start my own back alley guild and in a matter of years I was running my own small corner of the world.

I was sent on a job with a handful of other members, a simple job, simple until I was stabbed in the back by a long term friend Alostat. When my body was found I was dumped in the swamp and solely blamed for the break in.

“I've been gone for a long time” said the druids who found me.  They dredged me from the swamps and took me in.  my memories are old, older then those druids who aided me.  I don't know how or why my friend did what they did, but I feel deeply saddened no matter what answer I may come across in my travels.  I chose to set out after a few years with the druids of the swamps as the city I knew was no longer.  Being dead in a world of the living is a challenge, but through old magics and deception I am able to pass among them as I once did a hundred years ago.

I am a blight on this plane, a spit in the face of the natural order, however I still have much to give to those around me.  I came across a roving army and decided to hang my hat with the rest of the outcasts and misfits gaining trust and companionship I had so long ago.

I have been with these people for over a year now, only one has seen through my disguise.  A druid of my circle named Ophelia. A fiery half-elf far removed from the druids I lived with, she was disgusted at first but my presence became somewhat of a comfort.  It has been hard to open up after my death but the idea of a trusted friend has reinvigorated my spirit.  I hope one day I can lift my curse yes, but maybe there is still plenty of good I can do dead or alive.