Name: Valerian
Race: Dromaar
Birthplace: Varisia
Class: Fighter
Valerian was born into the minor Cheliaxian family of Castorius, though under unfavorable circumstances. His father, a Paralictor of the Nail stationed in Varisia, engaged in an affair of passion with an orcish sorceress hailing from a tribe near the Belkzen border. Shipped back to Cheliax at a young age to avoid a political scandal, Valerian was quietly warded at the Castorius manor within the city of Laekastel.
Although living a better life than most in Cheliax, Valerian was still a bastard, and a bastard with an orcish mother at that. No measure of etiquette, fine dress, or education would ensure he ever be seen more than a useful beast, at best, by most of his countrymen. Still, Valerian's father ensured he received tutoring and instruction in arms; he thrived in both of these things, adapting well to infernal discipline instilled into Chelish youth. To be alienated by the majority of his peers and elders alike only seem to push him further: perhaps, if he worked hard enough, he might ascend the path to supremacy.
By the time he came of age, Valerian was a learned man with a respectable affinity for warfare and strategy. Departing Castorius manor, Valerian drifted through Cheliax for some years as a mercenary. While he found a steady stream of work, he found much of it demeaning. Eventually, he settled down in Brastlewark for a few years: the gnomish locals were tiring, but they hardly cared about his ancestry and kept vast public libraries.
Valerian learned a great deal in Brastlewark, and amassed a respectable personal wealth through odd jobs for the gnomes, but he was not one of them. He was a stern and serious man, prone to anger. He enjoyed higher learning, and found gnomish works fascinating, but deep inside Valerian loved nothing more than fighting. Fearing he might go insane -- or snap -- if he lingered in gnomish company and low ceilings any longer, Valerian traveled to the Aspo Bay, securing passage to Absalom. The city was chaotic, dirty, and loud, but it held opportunities for one such as he.
The Pathfinder Society seemed a fine place to start: it could be a ladder to his ambitions, at the very least. He could rise here, learn more of the world, hone the art of warfare. And perhaps, even, return home with the strength, influence, and force of will to claim the birthright that ought be his...
Race: Dromaar
Birthplace: Varisia
Class: Fighter
Valerian was born into the minor Cheliaxian family of Castorius, though under unfavorable circumstances. His father, a Paralictor of the Nail stationed in Varisia, engaged in an affair of passion with an orcish sorceress hailing from a tribe near the Belkzen border. Shipped back to Cheliax at a young age to avoid a political scandal, Valerian was quietly warded at the Castorius manor within the city of Laekastel.
Although living a better life than most in Cheliax, Valerian was still a bastard, and a bastard with an orcish mother at that. No measure of etiquette, fine dress, or education would ensure he ever be seen more than a useful beast, at best, by most of his countrymen. Still, Valerian's father ensured he received tutoring and instruction in arms; he thrived in both of these things, adapting well to infernal discipline instilled into Chelish youth. To be alienated by the majority of his peers and elders alike only seem to push him further: perhaps, if he worked hard enough, he might ascend the path to supremacy.
By the time he came of age, Valerian was a learned man with a respectable affinity for warfare and strategy. Departing Castorius manor, Valerian drifted through Cheliax for some years as a mercenary. While he found a steady stream of work, he found much of it demeaning. Eventually, he settled down in Brastlewark for a few years: the gnomish locals were tiring, but they hardly cared about his ancestry and kept vast public libraries.
Valerian learned a great deal in Brastlewark, and amassed a respectable personal wealth through odd jobs for the gnomes, but he was not one of them. He was a stern and serious man, prone to anger. He enjoyed higher learning, and found gnomish works fascinating, but deep inside Valerian loved nothing more than fighting. Fearing he might go insane -- or snap -- if he lingered in gnomish company and low ceilings any longer, Valerian traveled to the Aspo Bay, securing passage to Absalom. The city was chaotic, dirty, and loud, but it held opportunities for one such as he.
The Pathfinder Society seemed a fine place to start: it could be a ladder to his ambitions, at the very least. He could rise here, learn more of the world, hone the art of warfare. And perhaps, even, return home with the strength, influence, and force of will to claim the birthright that ought be his...
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