Chapter 4

First Blood

"Astarael, stay still." Horace whispered.

"Okay."

Three men all armed with light crossbows and dressed in leather armor strode out of the underbrush, the one on the left seemed youngest and had a nervous grip on his crossbow. The central man looked much older, and had a thick black mustache and beard. The man on the right was tallest, but was bald-headed and had a thin but long mustache.

From his sitting position, Horace spoke. "Who are you? What do you want with us?"

The bearded man spoke. "Name's Damion. This 'ere's my son Reggie." he pointed to the youngest man with his crossbow. "and my brother Pete." He pointed to the older. "And we are here to take your shit."

Astarael spoke with the quavering voice of a young child. "Please sir... we have little more than what we are wearing."

Pete maliciously grinned and snickered "You have a carriage do you not?"

Horace stayed calm, still looking into the fire "Our horse will not respond to your commands. She is trained well."

"Bullshit." Damion spat "If she won't pull then you two get to pull."

"Fine." Horace got up and turned to the carriage "it'll take two of you to unhitch her, since I doubt you trust us with the task."

"Uh... yeah, you just stay there. Pete watch the kid, Reggie come with me."

"Yes father."

The two set their crossbows on the ground to unhitch the horse.

Astarael made sure they were busy and then with one fluid motion, he kicked the crossbow from Pete's hand, setting the bolt flying into the air. He then made a silent prayer to the Raven queen for strength and speed and prepared to fight.

When he heard the bolt fly, Horace grabbed Damion's and Reggie's heads and slammed them together with a fierce shout. The blow dazed the pair, but they were still conscious. Horace only hoped that he could fend off both of them and that Astarael could fight Pete.

"Bastard Child!" Pete threw an enraged haymaker at Astarael who slid to one side as the blow whiffed.

Astarael wasted no time in counterattacking, and slammed a right hook into Pete's face, bloodying his nose.

"Hit him Reggie!" Damion kicked hard into Horace's midsection but Horace, with his thick clothing and thicker muscle, seemed almost unfazed by this amateur's strike. He picked up the bandit's leg and threw it back, causing him to tumble into the horse, who though startled, did not run. Reggie danced to one side, hoping to flank Horace.

Arm still extended, Pete turned his haymaker into an elbow strike, which slammed into Astarael's ribcage, casuing him to sputter and stumble backwards, gasping for air as his diaphragm spasmed from the blow.

Reggie tried to choke hold Horace, but Horace stuck his elbow underneath the leaning boy and grabbed his arm.

Using his Momentum against him, Horace threw son into father. He then grabbed one of the Crossbows and fired the quarrel into Damion's shoulder, making him burst out in a scream of terrible pain.

Pete went for another haymaker, seeing Astarael stumble, but Astarael ducked low. Rising suddenly to catch Pete with a devastating uppercut that made him stumble backwards this time.

Reggie got up and tried to grab the other crossbow, but Horace stepped on his hand, hearing a satisfying crack as one of the boy's fingers broke. Damion yanked the bolt from his shoulder, earning him a spray of blood all across the ground and another yelp of pain. Horace picked up the crossbow himself and fired at Pete, sticking the man in the neck.

Pete fell over instantly as blood spilled down his leather gear and onto the grass. He made a strange gurgling noise, then lay still forever more.

Astarael saw that Damion had freed the bolt from his shoulder and called forth his Avenger spark in the form of a shadowy bolt of force which blasted into Damion's torso, cracking several of his ribs and slamming him form his sitting position to the floor.

Horace took the now fallen bolt from Damion, forcing it into his neck with a single thrust. Blood began to flow yet again as Damion's other wound slowed its flow.

"Dad!" Reggie got up and threw himself at his father's lifeless body. "Dad please! don't die!"

Astarael grabbed a wood cutting axe from the side of the Carriage and prepared to execute the young boy over his dad's corpse, when Horace grabbed his shoulder and spoke in a commanding voice.

"ENOUGH!"

Stunned, Astarael dropped the axe behind him. After a second of hesitation he spoke to Horace.

"Horace, he must die now. He tried to kill us!"

"You do not know what it is to kill Astarael! You do not know what it is to end a person's life with your own hands!"

"Horace, he is a criminal, a common bandit. It would be valorous to put him down."

"You call beheading a child as he weeps over his fallen father valorous?"

And it was true, Reggie's tears were mixing with his father's blood as he kneeled and cried.

"True valor is having the courage to risk your life so that another may live. Bravery is risking your life to evade them without hurting them so they can go home to their families. Wisdom is knowing who to kill and when instead of mindlessly slaughtering everything in your path! What you are suggesting is the murder of a defenseless criminal."

"But..." Astarael thought for a moment. "You're right. I guess i got so caught up in combat..."

"It's okay. I understand how it feels."

"Thank you for stopping me Horace."

"Of course... but what do we do with him?"



(and yes, I quoted squee here. I thought what he said about bravery and wisdom was very moving and I couldn't think of anything better to say.)

Chapter 3

The Long Road Ahead

“Huh, what library?” Horace looked inward at the scroll, trying to read it

“Apparently there used to be a library in a small swamp to the northeast of here near the coast. It says that the library housed decades of collected information, some of which is on our order. We are to go to the library’s ruins and bring back as many pieces of literature on the order as we can. We’re given two horses, a covered wagon, and 20 days worth of food for us and the horses, as well as sunrods, a hatchet, bedrolls a me-

“So we get standard travel fare is what you’re saying” Horace finally interrupts.

“uh… yeah.” Astarael replied sheepishly

“Well then, we head out after the feast… which we will have to hold today… I have to go” With that, Horace dashed off towards the central pavilion, nearly knocking over a portly monk carrying a stack of papers.

“Oh Horace, will you ever learn?”

A deep, voice sounded behind Astarael “I see you have awakened, this is rather unexpected”

“Good morning, High Zealot Mezro” Astarel’s voice had taken on an almost mournful tone, as it always did around those not close to him. He turned around to face the zealot, remembering to stare only at his chest, as was custom.

“You are lucky to have nearly stood in the face of the queen’s power, Astarael, I would think you would be happy at this, even if you never smile to anyone but your mother and Horace any other time.”

“I should have been able to look her in the eye; I’m inferior.”

“To me; yes. To everyone else for the past 6 and a half years; no. Astarael, you need not dwell on such things, especially when they are not failures. Now, are you prepared to take our knowledge back?”

“I stand ready sir.” Astarael’s monotonous voice was barely audible to the old zealot

“Good. Dismissed.”

Astarael walked back to his room, face an ivory mask, his awakened senses picking out snippets of conversations about himself.

“… amazing he’s awake today…”

“… I still think Mezro made astarael, kid’s an automaton around everybody…”

“… Leave him alone, he never met his dad that’d mess you up too…”

He found it odd, but not by too much, that so many spoke of him, after all, he had recently learned that to stand during awakening was a tremendous feat after all.

After a day of preparation, Astarael was sitting in the back of a covered wagon, barrels of supplies around him as well as the padded steel strongbox which held his gear. Horace sit in front, ready to direct the horses, his armor on and his sword in a special slot nearby, so as to provide quick access. He called back to Astarael.

“You ready back there?”

“Nice and cozy.”

“Good, then let’s go. HYAH!” Horace cracked the reins and they were off.

They set out along a winding passage that led down the slope of the cold mountain where Astarael had stayed since being born. Astarael gave his home one last look before turning his eyes toward the road ahead, his spirits high and his heart ready.

After a day of travel, the mountain was out of sight. The pair had set up camp in the shade of a large pine tree, using the wagon as a tent and fallen branches for the firewood.

“It must be good to be back outside, eh Horace?”

“Yeah, feels… right… and warm for a change”

“Heh, got that right, you never really get used to the cold do you?”

“Nah, especially once you start going out more, this one time, your father and I were sent way down south, to look into rumors of yuan-ti cultist activity. That place was so hot, my armor began to warp and bend! But man, when I found that stream was I glad. Best damn bath of my life!”

“Humph, you’ll have to take me there someday.”

“I doubt I will, we found the temple, it had been there for years, looked to be built by Yuan-Ti. They’re probably still there, the bastards.”

“You didn’t kill them?”

“Couldn’t, there had to be over a hundred of ‘em, and that’s just the ones we could see. Nah, that place was entrenched deep. We did ward the place though. Every time they left the area, we knew what was happening and we warned the people involved, they stopped trying after awhile. Until they found our ward. Remind me to ask if we can send some guys that way later.”

“Why don’t we go if we’re ever in the area?”

Horace’s brow furrowed into a scolding glare “Because I don’t want to carry your poisoned body back to your mom, that’s why”

“Oh… well, maybe someday, when I’m better.”

“Yeah… Maybe.”

Astarael hears the faint sound of rustling leaves nearby, then a hushed voice

“Horace.” He says, not taking his eyes off the fire “There’s someone behind you, in the bushes. Where’s your sword?”

“It’s in the wagon, by my bedroll.”

“damn, so’s mine”

Horace almost shouted “Hey Astarael, why don’t you go fetch me some jam?” he then winked

“Horace why are…” Astarael’s puzzled expression vanished, and a wry grin spread across his face “Sure thing.”

Astarael took no more than two steps before he heard a shout from behind him “Take another step and you’ll see what it feels like to be a pincushion!”

I told you I was still alive!

Chapter 2      Preparations

The brisk mountain air chilled Astaraels’ face as he walked towards the dormitorys, he remarked softly “all my life in these mountains and I still feel warm blooded, how strange.”

He heads towards the main pavilion to hear the ringing sounds of steel clashing against steel; a sparring match was underway. Astarael slides into the group of enthusiastic onlookers to see who was fighting, it comes as little surprise that it is Horace, dueling Jakobs, a human Monk who specialized in pole arms.

Horace had been sparring for a few minutes with Jakobs, neither one of their blades had found purchase and for the billionth time, Horace cursed the Greatsword’s wind up time, his blows were fast but nowhere near the speed that would be necessary to evade the spear’s steel-scaled haft. As Horace was thinking this, he sensed, rather than felt, Jakobs’ lunge directed at his chest, he sidestepped and hacked at the spear, hoping to snap it in two, but Jakobs had withdrawn it to lunge again.

Horace knew another lunge was coming and so he drug his massive blade out of the snow and crashed to his left with a mighty swing, designed to parry anything stabbing at him. This overzealous parry caught the spear as it was thrumming towards Horace’s pauldrons and nearly tore it from the small human’s grasp. Horace stepped in and brought the greatsword back downwards, hoping to gain a tap on Jakobs’ neck to end the sparring match, but the unarmored foe was too quick, he had already danced his way backwards and out of Horace’s reach.

Horace readied himself for another lunge or slash from Jakobs’ spearpoint and reasserted his grasp over his Greatsword’s hilt, but Jakobs, fearing counterattack, had deigned to take a defensive stance as well. Horace took the opportunity to assess the situation: that spear has a good foot of additional reach and he’s a lightly armored foe, which means I have to either get lucky or be inventive with my sword strokes, and I don’t believe in luck, so skill it is.

Horace began a lunge and, guessing Jakobs would dodge to his left and counter lunge, switched his blade around to a slash directed at Jakobs’ immediate left, where Jakobs suddenly found himself. Horace slowed the descent of the blade and tapped Jakobs lightly on the shoulder, “death” Horace remarks “I win.”

The crowd, including Astarael, cheers for yet another swift victory by Horace and quickly dispurses, along with Jakobs, who goes off to nurse his shoulder and his pride.

“Astarael, you aren’t supposed to be up yet!”

“and you aren’t supposed to be sparring monks from outside the monastery, so we’re even.”

The two share a quick laugh as Horace returns to the armory.

“So how was it?” Horace asked cheerfully as he returned the blunted practice greatsword to the wall.

“It was…. Incredible, I felt so many things all at once. I just couldn’t believe it.”

“Yeah, wish I could get awakened.”

“I don’t get why you can’t. You’ve done so much more for this place than I have and I’m the one who gets to become an avenger. It isn’t fair!”

“Astarael, life isn’t fair. Thing is, I can get along just fine without the awakening, I’ve survived quite a few hardships you know, all of them with just my wits and a blade.” Horace and astarael had left the armory and begun their walk back to Astarael’s new dormitory.

“I guess so.”

“Hey, have you read the mission yet?” Horace wanted to change the subject; he hated seeing astarael act like this.

“No, my first stop was to find you of course.”

“Well thanks, ‘cause while you’ve been in la-la land, I’ve been stuck in the real world with a billion chores to do to prepare for the feast.”

The two headed back to their separate dormitories and astarael decided to take a look around his.

The tiny room was too nice to be called Spartan, but only just. His bed was a low-to-the-ground cot lined with cotton so as to prepare him for sleep in bedrolls and to make him know true comfort when he slept in the barest of inns. A combination everburning torch and holy symbol of the raven queen hung above the cot, eternally shedding light across the 10’x15’ room. Astarael’s eyes fell onto his wardrobe, where he looked in to see his practice tunic, more patches than original fabric, still sitting. He smiled warmly as he remembered first putting it on, then it was white and new, and now it lay there, frayed, darkened to the point of being brown, and about to be cast aside. He inhaled one last breath of the soft, familiar smell of mountainflower incense burning off and left the tiny dormitory.

“Horace! Where are you?” astarael called towards the armory

“right here of course” Horace tried to sneak behind Astarael without any of Horace’s usual armor on, but to no avail. Astarael Tumbled forward and spun around, at the same time throwing ice and snow into Horace’s face; a rare and full smile on his.”

“You big oaf, you should know better than to try to sneak up on me!”

“yeah, I should shouldn’t I? Well come on then man, what’s the mission to do?”

“All right, lets see here”

Astarael touches his finger to the wax, mutters a word, and the red semi-solid begins to melt away.

“It seems we are to…”

CLIFFHANGER! that's what you get for not believing in me.

I'm still alive!

and I am going to do this, just when I feel like it. Oh come on, I'm only talking to one person, it's not like anyone but chute reads this thing anyway. figured I'd let you know I will still do this, just when I get around to it, the creative juices simply aren't flowin' right now.

Chapter 0 (for those too lazy to go onto zetaboards)

Chapter 0     The awakening

“Astarael!” the booming voice of High Zealot Mezro thundered across the chamber walls and rang In Astarael’s ears, causing him to slowly look up.

“You have been with us since birth, you have studied the ancient tomes, you have been schooled in the combat techniques of our people, now it is time for you to begin your journey outside the high walls of the monastery. I present to you your father’s sword and robes, we have kept them preserved since he died.”

Astarael graciously accepts the gifts as he stands, signifying his ascension into the ranks of the junior monks. The chamber was designed so that all the other members of the order could stand as they watched, and so that they were a few feet higher than the junior members, reminding them that they were not yet equals in the eyes of mortals. “I accept these gifts from my father, and from the order. I ask you, High Zealot; what task has the raven queen deemed worthy of such an imperfect vessel?” Astarael recants; he has spent hours poring over these words, anticipating the day when he would finally be allowed to use them.

“Astarael Korlac, by the order of the raven queen you are to carry out the instructions written on this scroll, the contents of which you are to share with no sentient being other than your guardian on this mission.”

“And who is this guardian?” Astarael already knew the answer, but it was required of him to continue the dialogue.

“Horace McCallahan, your godfather. He shall be your shield and your compass upon leaving this place. Do you, Horace McCallahan, accept responsibility for this young half-elf?”

Horace instantly replied in his deep bass voice. “Yes, I hereby swear an oath of vigilance to watch over Astarael Korlac, son of Krom Korlac and Autumn Brightstar, junior monk of the order of the heavenly aurora.”

Mezro’s voice thundered louder this time “Do you, Astarael Korlac, agree to allow Horace McCallahan to swear his oath of vigilance? Is he, in your eyes, worthy to guard and protect you?”

Astarael hadn’t even learned the proper way to say no to this question. “Yes High Zealot, I agree to allow Horace McCallahan, son of no man and Tanisa McCallahan, to guide and protect me in my journeys to come, so that I may be blessed with not meeting with the raven queen before my time is due.”

Mezro’s hands began to shine with divine light as he spoke “Then by the power vested in me by the raven queen herself, I hereby seal this oath of vigilance, so that no mortal may ever break it” as he finished the light diminished.”

The congregation chanted spells of good fortune, protection, speed, agility, strength, and intellect as the high zealot stepped down from his pulpit and began striding towards Astarael, muttering an incantation that got louder and louder as he got closer to the now bowing Astarael. He lifts his hands to the sky as he draws within arm’s reach of the young half-elf and, when Astarael’s ears could bear no more, ceased as he placed his hands upon Astarael’s head.

Waves of every feeling imaginable surged through his body, causing Astarael’s body to go rigid. He felt immeasurable pleasure beyond his wildest dreams, he saw all that there is to see in a single instant, he felt the most excruciating pain course through his blood, felt cooked alive and frozen to the core, and heard a sound like flint and steel scraping against one another, and in an instant all of it was over, but the feeling was not completely gone, he felt a shadow of an echo of it deep within him, his divine spark has been awakened. He tries to rise to his shaking feet, as it is said he is supposed to do, but fails, falling over unconscious and twitching.

Chapter 1: the other awakening

Astarael wakes inside the medical ward, his body still numb from the intensity of the awakening ritual, the only thing he feels in an intense hunger. “Mother, are you there? I can barely see.”

Autumn pulls back the curtains of his bed immediately and answers in her sweet honey voice “yes of course I am here Astarael, is there anything you need?”

“So hungry. Can you get me something to eat?”

“Of course my little star. What would you like?”

“A warhorse, hooves and all. And something to make me forget my failure at the awakening”

“Oh Astarael, you didn’t fail. That has happened to almost all of us, why it even happened to your father. Most of us didn’t even make it as far as you, the moment the High Zealot tapped our foreheads we were out like a torch in a blizzard. No honey you did perfectly fine.”

“But I was supposed to demonstrate my divine spark to the congregation after I stood!” Astarael complained.

“That’s for those with the most powerful of wills, like high Zealot Mezro. Those that can stand long enough to use their new divine spark have tough wills, but the surge of power that runs through them gets them every time, even High Zealot Mezro. You have to be knocked out to allow your body to fully experience the strength the raven queen has just bestowed upon you, if not then you wouldn’t be half as powerful.”

“so the whole point is to lay us up in here for a few hours?”

“no, the point is to lay you up in here for a couple DAYS. You’ve been out for 2 days now.”

“WHAT? But what about the mission, I didn’t even get a chance to read it over!”

“All in due time my little star, for now I’ll get you that warhorse, why did you think there was a grand banquet a whole week after the awakening, it’s so they can have time to wake up, you woke up very early, we haven’t got anything ready so go back to sleep for a while okay.”

“okay, but wait. If I’ve been out for two days then where have I been…. Going?”

“where do you think?” she snickers as she sees Astarael’s cheeks turn bright red “don’t worry, only I did anything, beside we all had to go through it. I know I had the same expression when I woke up”

“I……. guess…… uh, can I have my pants back?”

Autumn begins laughing uncontrollably. “Of *snicker* of course, they’re in the bin next to you along with your gear”

“Thank you mom.” “Oh gods!” Astarael thinks “I REALLY hope this happened to everyone else, otherwise I’ll never hear the end of it.” He graciously returns to his old gear; a voluminous cloak of black with attached hood designed to keep his face covered, as well as distort his figure so that strikes aimed at him wouldn’t know where his vital organs would be.

“Are you dressed dear, I’ve got some beef stew hot and ready.”

“All set mom, thanks, I hope you brought the whole trencher” He smiles as he notices that she actually did.

“Believe me, you think you won’t eat it all but then you start scraping the bottom looking for more.”

“I don’t doubt that in the slightest, hey where’s Horace?” he asked, scooping some delicious broth into a wooden bowl.

“He’s training and studying the specifics of your mission, no one expected you to wake up until 3 days from now, you’re very strong of will Astarael, you should feel blessed”

He swallows a mouthful of steaming stew and responds “I certainly do, and I think this stew is too”

“It is, when you’re done, Horace will want to see that you’ve waken”

“oh right!” a questioning look entered Astarael’s face “hey mom?”

“yes?”

“Has Horace been awakened?”

Autumn frowns and sighs heavily. “no, he has not. Horace was trained in our combat techniques but he has never shown devotion to the raven queen other than what is required of him, he’s not a true follower and can never be awakened.”

“But why not!?” Astarael surges up when he hears this, knocking his empty soup bowl to the ground “Horace has given all we could ever ask to this monastery, if it weren’t for him my dad would have had no chance and died a lot sooner! Then I’d never be born, technically I owe him my life this monastery can’t even reward him for what he’s done!?”

Autumn stayed calm and cool the entire rant, hardly moving, she thinks to herself; There’s his father coming out in him, I just wish he’d behave like this around other people, he makes them think he’s as soulless as a warforged.” “Astarael,” she finally replied “Horace has given a lot to this monastery, but he can’t be awakened because the raven queen won’t allow it. He’s fine without awakened powers, he’s a fighter not an avenger. You’d do well to remember his martial prowess is beyond anything other members of the order can hope to achieve.

“but… he.. *sigh* I suppose, if the queen wills it. It’s still not fair”

“I know honey” she moves to wrap her little star in her arms “but it’s just the way it is.” She releases him and grabs his shoulders, remarking that he’s still a little shorter than her despite being half-human. “now, why don’t you go see him, like I said he’ll be waiting for you there.

“all right then mom, I’ll go. I love you, I’ll be back soon.”

“bye my shining star!” she smiles as he leaves the medical ward and thinks to herself “It seems like only yesterday the high zealot was presenting him to the queen, and now he’s off to go serve her, as a full avenger. I just hope he’ll be allright.

(yes I know, not one fight scene or bit of action yet, but I wanted this to be a tender chapter between Astarael and  Autumn, to show you how much they care about each other, you'll really see he loves her when Astarael starts talking to other people)

An introductory post

Greetings, chocl8215 here with an idea born from boredom and too much D&D stuff lying around my house.

I have decided to attempt to write my own fanfiction about a Half-elf adventurer named Astarael (kudos to those who know where that name came from). I write this fanfiction from the perspective of a veteran D&D player but i have never written much outside of essays and the first chapter of a rather crappy novel. Not to say I'm a bad writer, I recently got nominated for some award for having the best written essay in my class *cough cough giant ego cough cough* and have had to write many backstories for characters of DND, oblivion, even minecraft at one point. as of now this is just an idea I had 5 minutes ago. I welcome ideas and input of any kind, yes even those shouting at me not to do this, but please, try to give a good reason for your suggestions.

Here are character biographies of the two main characters, Astarael and horace.

Character biography for astarael



Race; half-elf

Name: Astarael Korlac

Birthplace: Heavenly aurora Monastery, in the isolated Zengyu Mountain range

Parents: Krom Korlac, Human male (deceased) and Autumn Korlac, Elven female

Age: 32 years (19 human years)

Back story: Astarael was born into his training; he is the only son of 2nd Zealot Krom Korlac, a master assassin and fateful devotee of the raven queen. His mother Autumn is the surgeon general for the monastery, her poultices and magic have saved the lives of many of the order’s guildsmen. However, she could not save the life of her husband after he was ambushed by a group of gnolls. Their toxic arrows hit him time and time again and it was three days before he stumbled back to camp, Autumn was anxious for him to return, he could tell him the wonderful news of her pregnancy, but when he got to her he was unconscious from poison, his only surviving comrade carrying him back to the monastery and nearly killing himself in the process. Autumn worked furiously to save him, but it was of no use. The poison had reached his brain before she could treat him and he died soon after he was brought back to camp. Astarael grew up without a true father but he did have a father figure, Horace McCallahan, the last surviving member of his father’s party. Horace joined the order late and served as a bodyguard, he clunked around in plate armor and hewed through his foes with a great sword, not the kind of man you wanted sneaking around castle corridors with you, but great in skirmishes. Astarael grew to be a shy, reserved fellow, he had but one friend; Horace, and spent many hours in either the library or the training grounds during his free time. Astarael is a cold person, but vastly less so around his mother and Horace. Astarael has never been on a true mission outside the monastery before, he is very nervous to see what wonders await him away from the temple.

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Deity: The Raven Queen

Statistics (note, these are just for reference, they do not play any role in determining the outcome of a fight)
Str. 13
Con. 10
Dex. 19
Int. 15
Wis. 15
Cha. 8



Character Biography for Horace



Race: Elf

Name: Horace McCallahan

Birthplace: Verdantia, Capital city of The Emerald Empire
.
Parents: father unknown, Tanisa of the quays, Elven female.

Age: 118 (26 human years)

Back story: born to a low class prostitute and left in an orphanage taught Horace one thing; survival of the fittest. Horace left the orphanage as soon as he could and began work as a city guard n the rough-and-tumble docks of Verdantia. His skill with a great sword caught the eye of one Krom Korlac, who offered him a way out of the shabby droll life of a city guard, he eagerly accepted. When he reached the monastery he trained hard to become the best bodyguard he could. Horace and Krom grew to be almost brothers; Horace was Krom’s best man at the wedding and the two refused to travel separately, Autumn named him the godfather when she heard Krom might not make it and Horace gladly accepted the role of Astarael’s mentor and protector, though he grew quickly by elven standards. Many would have withdrawn into themselves from these hardships but Horace also learned the value of good friends, he still remembers the times each of his watchmates took their turn on wall patrol with him and what they were like. Horace is a big softy at heart, but only around friends and good company, whe things turn serious, no one has their sword in the air faster that Horace.
Alignment: Chaotic good

Deity: none that he is reverent to, but he gives homage to the raven queen as it is required by members of the monastery.

Statistics

Str. 18
Con. 16
Dex. 11
Int. 9
Wis. 9
Cha. 13

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