Drohaem the Legend of the Battlefield, Captain of the Brigade

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Role

Chapter 2

With no home to go to, Drohaem returned to Voralian. He had hoped to join
guard that had started his training, but they would not tolerate a barbarian
giant in their orderly ranks.

Lost until he found the Maran. A bastion of the light, a place he could go
and fight the foes of darkness shoulder to shoulder with those of a like
mind.

Drohaem Aurvandil is a barbaric warrior, trained to savagely and effectively
achieve victory. His language is uncouth, his demeanor though jolly has a
underlying element of menace. The emotions of loss and sadness have been
replaced by a relentless drive.

Not one of revenge, but of purpose. That is, to cleanse the land of evil,
there is no repentance. No respite for evil things.

Though we worship the ancient god of the sea, our namesake Aurvandil. Drohaem
looks to Baerinika, as a source of inspiration and creed to live by.

Where most would find their anchor in friends and family past, Drohaem see's
them as a sacrifice to force his first move towards embracing a life of
combat.

Forming his first adage. The difference between a courageous man and a
desperate man is only the first has something to lose.

Role

Chapter 1

In the vast stretches of the Aryth, there is was the now forgotten tribe of
the Aurvan. Worshipers of Aurvandil, the benevolent if callous god of the
sea. Living a life of freedom, a small colony that rarely had dealings with
the outside world. Though small in number these giants follow a life martial
life, with young warriors often leaving the tribe at a young age to seek more
in the land.

Drohaem found himself the victor of the twenty year Aurvan events. A set of
events where the young and strongest compete for the right to be sent to
Voralian for training. A competition of wits, will, strength and cunning.

The intention was to give their warriors worldly experience, to expand and
strengthen the tribe. Sending away Drohaem did not prove their undoing, there
wouldn't have been anything he could have done at the force amassed. The
Empire, ever hungry for fresh labor to expand with had struck out across the
sea, collecting the various tribes. The Aurvan was one of many hit, though
few were caught so off guard.

Drohaem returned to his island home to find nothing but ruins. A smaller
nearby tribe found him wandering their abandoned kelp fields aimlessly. They
spoke of raiders in the night, warriors protected by powerful prayers and
magic swimming down from great ships above, taking all they could see.

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