Fraeligar Osmond

[Eight-Bit]

Full Name: Fraeligar Osmond
Age: 21
Class(es): Fighter
Race: Human
Subrace: (If Any) None
Diety: Rofirein
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Bio/Description:

Nobility is for naught if one is not noble.This is a story of a man who once was of a noble family. A noble family, with the exterior of a pearl, and within the confines of their opaque shell, hid espically well, was their dark and hidden truth. Below this hive of philanthropists and well to-do noblemen ran a dark river. Their wealth was not from wise investment, or careful business. Certinally none of those things; but under it's visage. The West Empire Company. Known for being very reliable, and quick with their shipments, it was often of questions of where all their riches came from. These riches were sullied by the hands of pirates, smugglers, bandits. Any whom would taint the riches of the Osmond family did so, to a great extent. Few but Fraeligar's father, his grandfather, and his brother Oscar knew of true nature of the West Empire Company. Though it was not long before Fraeligar began to question the family.

It was here that his path, and his noble station, began to decay. He was provided for completly, and utterly. His every whim and desire was fufilled, before it was given the time to even develope. A happy child, is a quiet child, his father often said to himself. But that was long before Fraeligar began to age. In his early childhood, as most noble children in Pranzis, he was taught the extravagant art of fenching. He was quite proficent with his sword, and was a high cut above the other children. Competition and opponets matching his skill were few, and very fare between. His father, for his own pleasure, would invite the father and child of business partners, investors, and enemies to the Osmond estate to witness a duel between their children. His father's message was keen, just as the strikes of his boy's rapier.

When the time came, at the ripe young age of sixteen, he had enlisted in the Pranzis military, as that was what young men his age did. He was young. Very young, and placed as an officer. A position he detested. He was not a leader. Nor the noble Paladin, but yet he held a very strong sense of honor. His adamantium will was impossible to beak. He never did see combat. Never once brought his men upon the battlefield, but he did travel Dregar, between towns, during the later months of his enlisment. The uniform, the heavy armor and shield, did not suit him well. The weight caused him to fall behind the troops. His troops believed him to be a coward. In truth he lacked the endurance.

Back home, the profits became scarce, as the inquisitive tax collectors began to question their wealth, with how much their business made. It was not long before their secrets were found out. Where their wealth came from became a quiet and shussed topic upon the dinner table. It was not long before the magistrate was told of the excess wealth. And, within the City of Rofirein, no crime - regardless of it's severity, goes unpunished. It was then that the family was discovered. At dinner one night, while Fraeligar was home to visit while on leave, they made sure to find proof. They stormed the estate, entering the dining hall as the guards did nothing to stop the agents of Rofirein. The truth was painful to Fraeligar. Very, very painful. In such that everything he had gained, and everything he owned was a product of theft, and the black market hidden below the town. It was then he was arrested, and stripped of his title, military position, and wealth. He was left with nothing. Except for all the time in the world.

The sentence was three years, while his father, grandfather, and brother met their deaths because of their crimes. His mother, and sisters were brought into service under another noble family. Yet Fraeligar's fate was neither soft, yet still a test of endurance of suffering, and loneliness. He spent two years in a simple prison not far from his former home. But eventually, through the hardening of the jail and the inmates which now brooded with, he had become a changed man. The training in which he recieved in the military had become his innate nature. Here the men were nothing more than enemies, and the prison the battlefield. And battle he did. Many men were wounded, just as his own wounds would grow. He was moved to Fort Velensk, to protect not only himself but his fellow inmates.

For a year he had very little human contact. What was once a young noble was now a grown, and bitter commoner. But, near the ending weeks of his sentence, he began to fear his freedom. The prison was the only thing which was real. He had forgotten what the outside world was. Until, one fateful day, a Cleric of Rofirein came to pay respects to those who would be put to death, and give the last rights to those who would accept them. He overheard a conversation, one which he never would have expected. He spoke the last rites. One, which to Fraeligar, was an unfamiliar thing. He spoke of forgiveness of Rofirein; for no man is perfect, and no man can always act as he should. These words were placed forever within Fraeligar's heart.

The Cleric happened to recognize him. It was not long until they had a weekly, then eventually nearly a daily meeting of Rofirein. He was never a religious individual in his youth, yet it took him to be labled a criminal to find his faith in the God of Justice. So it here where Fraeligar's true story begins. This morning he is to be released from Fort Velensk, free upon Mistone to find himself, and bring himself closer to Rofirein.

[stormspirit]

Approved.