Freynor

## **Description**

### **Appearance**

Freynor holds himself in a manner befit for a wild-man. He wears shoulder-length disheveled hair and a long, ruddy beard. His skin is dirty and his fingernails seem to constantly have dirt beneath them.

### **Personality**

Being from the woods, Freynor has little understanding of how society functions. This has shown itself on multiple occasions, namely when he killed Gideon Griggs, and assumed he would now be the owner of his farmhouse as he killed the previous owner. He is very blunt and will not stray from confrontation. It is not known whether that is due to bravado or simply a lack of understanding of the situation.

## **Relationships**

### **Crawmi Lonespire**

While traveling in the Elwood Forest south of Silvertide, poor Crawmi made the mistake of trying to swindle Freynor. Freynor, noticing this, reprimanded Crawmi and demand he serve him to pay for his misdeeds. To this day, Crawmi has yet to find a way to escape his "captor".

## **In Memoriam**

Freynor was a simple man, from a simple upbringing. An orphan at birth, he was found by a humble druid named Regina. Regina was the local healer for the town of Rookvale, and when she unexpectedly passed away, the town shunned Freynor, believing him to have killed her. And thus started the interesting journeys of the simple man known as Freynor.

He spent many of the following years in nature, learning the ways of the animals, and how they were one with the world around them. Though this time was simple, Freynor saw it fit to re-introduce himself to society, as difficult as it was. He made his way into Silvertide... a stranger in a foreign land. He was the light to the city's darkness, the crashing cymbal to their harmonious choir. And yet, he found a teacher named Gilandric who took him under his wing. Gilandric was most fond of ravens and would transform into that form most of the time. Though Freynor never learned to make this transformation in his lifetime, those who knew this bit about his past would know it was a simple dream of his.

As his knowledge of the Circle of the Moon grew, so too did his desire to depart society and head back out into the wilderness. He bid Gilandric farewell, and went back to his true home in the wilds. Any time he would meet a passing person on the road, he would shy away, assuming they would hate him. After all, this was all he knew. He always felt like the outcast, the murderer in the eyes of the world who did not truly seek to understand him. He was able to scrounge up some coins here or there to help whet his voracious appetite, though this small fortune led to Freynor's next journey... friendship.

At a small tavern in the middle of the woods near Silvertide, Freynor was offered magical food that would surely satiate his appetite. Freynor, being none the wiser, took the charismatic fellow up on his offer, giving up the last of his hard earned coin for the food. As he began to eat, his instinct took over and he found it to be a ruse, and so he hunted the man who conned him with the intensity of a wolf, eventually tracking him down and threatening him with his life. The man, a bard some may know as Crawmi, could only offer his fealty in exchange for his misdeed.

As was often the case with Freynor, he was once again matched with something out of his element. Whereas he was direct and saw nothing but the simplicity of life, Crawmi was superfluous and always the performer, seeking to please those around him. Crawmi quickly found his new companion to be strange, shedding clothes with ease and having no shame about most of his actions. Perhaps behind his mask of disdain was a sort of appreciation for Freynor's directness. After all, maybe life would be simpler if everybody acted as though the opinions of others didn't matter.

Eventually the two met up with more who would join them on their adventurers. And like Crawmi, they saw Freynor as an outcast to society. Clearly, he was someone who did not fit in, and was okay with it. Or was he? Perhaps society would not allow him in, even if he tried. Nevertheless, he carried on with his own way; enjoying food, sleeping outdoors in hay, pinching people with crab claws, and claiming ownership over things he had no right to claim ownership over. But that was Freynor. A man who did things his own way, and didn't seem to care about the consequences.

And that leads us to his end. On that fateful day in the swamp, he was felled by a vicious beast which choked his lungs in poisonous gas. Those same lungs which yearned to tell the world "accept me...". And though the world, in his eyes, never did, he was accepted by those around him. The party he surrounded himself with were the closest he would ever have to true friends. And perhaps that is all he needed.

As the party looked over his makeshift grave, a beautiful blanket of flowers in a sea of despair, they were reminded of his life and the way he carried himself. Perhaps it would be okay to be different and not fit in. And as Crawmi looked into the treeline, he saw a raven staring back at him. As it acknowledged his existence and departed into the sky, in that moment, all seemed right. Even in death, perhaps dreams can still come true.