Application for "Ser" Draegan Stone

[Kyber]

Do you have any prior experience with Requiem? If so, please detail when (and what characters, if desired) you previously played:

yes, Kyber and even more others

How did you hear about Requiem?

Pretty sure it was a discord invite. Def a discord invite

What will your character’s name be?

Draegan Stone

Please briefly describe the physical attributes of your character, including age, looks, height, weight and any notable features:

Mid 30’s, Blonde Hair, Blue eyes. Slight Stubble, 6’4, 245+ lbs. Heavy build of a warrior, everything about him says privileged person, but due to traveling for months on end - seems more emaciated.

No large scars or birth marks, no real identifying marks, tattoos or family brands.



Briefly state your character’s intentions or motivations for entering the First Province:

(Edited for less ambiguity)

Dreagan was born a nobody, no one - hes a bastard with good genetics and nothing more. He is the man at the bar that would say to people ‘I’m joining the legion’ or ‘Next week I leave’. He has a lot of desire but no follow through. Lots of dreaming, no doing. He always talked to every men at arms, soldier, warrior that he could and picked up the right lingo and certainly looks the part - but never followed through.

While he was standing on a old battlefield someone had hit him on the head and knocked him unconscious - robbing him and leaving him to die. He had laid there for a day and contracted a small fever, his fever gave him these ‘visions’ which were nothing more than a response to illness. When he woke he had all of these ‘memories’ which were just his thoughts and desires that never manifested.

This ‘man’ who told him to go to the province, which turned out to be a result of a fever, of his own disappointment in himself, 'gave' him this equipment and told him to go find himself in the first province. Most likely because he overheard someone talking about it. He got a great idea that he could find all of this information that proves himself true of all these wild allegations he recently had - it took a knock on a head and a fever to find some type of purpose.






Please provide a few short paragraphs with pertinent details or notable qualities of your character’s history. This does not have to be exhaustive nor revealing of any information you wish to keep secret:

(I got way to excited and wrote way to much, marked it as a spoiler so its easier to see when he arrives at the pass.)

Woke up on a battlefield, dazed and surrounded by ‘clean’ bodies. Draegan seems to have been left for dead. His clothes torn, armor stripped, sword missing and what he sees of the friends he thought he had are all dead and piled up. He seemed to walk aimlessly throughout the field, seeing burned out camps, destroyed tents and overturned wagons. He spent half a day walking to the city he thought he remembered. Upon arriving he searched for a familiar face but found none.

He walked to the local tavern but it seemed as if the place he knew, no one knew him. He happened upon a local officer and this conversation occurred…

‘Excuse me…Excuse me, Officer, yes…I need help, See I am Ser Draegan…’ stopped abruptly as he was interrupted.

‘Ser…You a knight or something? I never seen you…who you with then?’ The man seemed to eye him up and down with prejudice and confusion, aggression is seen on his face.

‘Thats correct, Knighted of the 18th Venerated Templar Order, I insist upon…’ Again was stopped, this time more confusion with heightened aggression.

‘Look here, there is no 18th Venerated Templar Order I ever heard of…and you don’t much look like any Templar I ever seen - go find the local post and prove you are who you say - and if I find out you lied I’ll pin you to a stake’.

Realizing there was no arguing with the man he set off, down to the local office of recruitment in the city. He figured he could at least get some type of info, although time time with more tact.

‘Excuse me, Hello - I am here inquiring upon the current status of a unit…my…brother is in.’ He said with surety, but somehow not quite knowing the right words.

The recruitment officer seems dogged, tired and grumbly, old and without any much of a care with more salt about him than hair - but he responds.

‘Look ‘ere, I don’t just be goin out giving information to someone - why should I just tell you something?’ He seemed curious to help - for a price…

‘You see I am…the brother of a Venerated Templar, I am strong, built well, and no diseases or wrong doings on any of my health. I know you receive a bit of a cut for a good man who joins the fight - so help me out and I’ll make sure my brother puts in a great word of you finding me, when he arrives of course’.

‘Alright alright…don’t twist my arm, what unit is he with…let me find the book’ The man groans as he reaches down, a book with missing pages, large and dusty as he slams it on the table, clattering the cups on it as some spill what was left.

‘18th Venerated Templar Order, should be traveling with the 55th Venerated Legion of our King to combat the torment and the hope - should they stuck their neck out enough to be cut!’ He said triumphantly, the smile apparent as if he has won something for saying it…

The man responds as he looks through the old book, oddly detailed and organized even if old and missing pages. ‘This here is all the units we have in the area, and I don’t see no 18th or 55th or any sort of that - you sure you got the names, right? Unless…If the unit is dead’ The man looked up grimacingly with slight laughter, as if giving bad news was a part of his job, one that he enjoyed.

‘Well…I would hope not, but a word is a word. When my brother comes through town, I will make sure to sign those papers in front of him and ensure your cut!’

‘Yeah yeah…whatever you say. Just be here tomorrow at sunrise before the carriage shows up or you have to wait a month’ The man takes a drink as soon as he saw he realized he was doing this slightly drunk…very drunk

Did the man look through an actual book, did he give the information so freely? Why? Is he desperate, or did he lie - Draegan had figured that if he were to stick around, joining the legion, while not the worst of options in life, was what he considered to be a starting point - not one fit for his ‘bloodline’ and past deeds. Just as he was about to leave a man had stopped him.

He looked to be in his late 50’s, not decrepit, but certainly old and worn out almost. Eyes almost glazed over from cataracts and wrinkled leather skin. The man dressed well, albeit old clothing that could do with a change.

‘You…Boy’ He Said ‘Where you think you’re going so fast - pretty sly for someone who gave his word to join, or are you a liar - or maybe you’re really a Templar after all?’ He grinned at him, in the way a man with the upper hand in a game of cards does.

‘What is your business with me old man, I have matters to attend to -’ Suddenly he realized the old man had been following him, listening to everything. ‘What do you want…come to poke fun at a man down on his luck, or is there a purpose?’

‘You see boy, you can’t just go around shouting you’re a Templar, Knight or some other stuff dressed like you got found in a gutter - have to have proof. Look the part, nobody here knows you, nobody here cares. Can’t get any information here because nobody is gonna believe anything you say - but you help me, I help you’ The man once again with the same high poker hand grin - its tempting…

‘What do I get and what do you get old man?’ He seemed anxious, slightly desperate but willing to tit for tat if it is worth it.

‘Well, if you are a Templar - you know the church and the inquisition both are going to have records. I know a place that has a lot of records - you just have to make it there. Not but a few weeks travel from here, and i’ll give you a nice outfit to go, and a story to get you a ticket inside’ The man nodded, he already knew the answer - down on their luck desperate people never say no.

‘All…All of that you’d just give me?’ He laughed, but it was to good to be true, he knew it…but, as a Knight, no…as a Templar he expected this type of help, he was raised a class above and decided it was worth a chance. ‘Alright then, what do you want…we have a deal.’

The man hefted a bag to him, it had a suit of armor, weapon, some coin, documents - fake documents at that but good enough. Further inspection, all the equipment was shoddy, none of it worthwhile in a true fight but it will certainly pass the eye test. ‘Here you go boy, you’re gonna go into the First Province, meet up with the local church and tell them the -The Hawk of Fire is on its way-, nobody can get in or get out, but men like you are good for delivering messages. Now get, before someone sees us talking’

Draegan was at a state of confusion that he had never been before, his head had pounded from a wound he could not identify and now he had a large bag of things to carry, at least there was new clothes. He changed, pulled out a map and plotted directions. He knew his strength would be sapped and his years of training gone to waste, no real coin to travel, just enough to buy food and water to survive from town to town.

‘Oh…one more thing, Don’t go shouting off you’re a templar..knight…prelate or any thing else you decide to come up with, someones gonna either rob you or kill you - probably both boy.’ The man laughed and waved as he walked off. Draegan’s head pounded and his vision was blurred. He needed a rest before he was to set out…so he procured a room and slept.

Upon waking, he went to find the man as his recollection was shoddy - but there was no man. There was no officer, or legionnaire recruiter - the town seemed much less lively. His head had hurt much less, couldn’t feel any swelling but he did have a night sweat. Maybe broken fever…no one still seemed to remember him and no one can corroborate his story. It was time to set off, either way it was several months and at least the shoddy equipment and his turn and bloody battlefield garb was still there, however…

This was again a feeling of - did any of that actually happen, or was it all in my mind?

*************************************************************************************************************

Draegan after many months had finally made it to the pass. Struggling to maintain weight, struggling to heft the heavy bag of supplies and his coin was dwindling. Still confused at this point as to how he got here, what he was really doing. He could simply just leave, sell the equipment to someone - but where would he go? Hes strong, but not nearly as strong as the new legion recruits, nor even as close to anyone dedicated to templar service. Not like he was in his youth, could certainly bounce back easily but - youth is always preferable. Not much else of a choice but to see where this road goes.

He peered out at all the onlookers and noted that many of them were in much worse shape then he. He knew it was time to dress and be prepared to enter. He had heard the man shouting about a Visa to enter the quarantine zone, people being denied, not having the right fit. He knew he had documents, ways to get past. With the armor he would certainly look the part, he had the right speech - but just how to get it done properly.

‘Denied! Next…’ The man started his speech and again said the line ‘Denied! Next…’ You could see it, on his breath, his skin, his lips. He was not in the mood for sob stories or mindless chat - he wanted results and good reason. As he stepped up the man looked at him, and what felt like an eternity he simply had a long drawn thought. He couldn’t remember anything - where he was born, where his church was, he couldn’t remember the faces of his comrades or the names of his parents. Everything suddenly washed that he had no idea who he was - just a small memory that he swore he was a templar, that he swore he was a knight…the man seemed displeased at his fugue like state.

The man snapped in his face, asking him ‘You there? What business you got here?!’ The man recited the same droll as Draegan had looked down at him, he realizes where he was and just before the man could speak his favorite phrase he had leaned down.

‘Before you speak another word, know that I am here to bring about the extermination of the undead and torment that plagues this land as decreed by the highest order within the church.’ Just as Dragan uttered the words, the man was ready to start laughing until Draegan poked him with a mailed finger. ‘This humorous to you boy? Does the church make you laugh? Is that a sense of heretical laughter I hear? I wonder what a swift word to the Venerated would do for such an easily replaceable man…now hand me my visa, and point me the direction I seek to go’. Draegan had stood as tall as his frame would allow, ominously looking at the man as if waiting for a negative answer, any longer and fatigue could cripple him - even strong men have limitations when you aren't fed properly.

There are those moments, few and far between when someone does something so brazenly stupid that it just might work. One wrong word, breath, or uncertain feature given and the whole thing is up, after all he does not even know if his name is in fact his name...but there is a certain confidence there - almost from memory, or just strange luck.

[Coty]

Congratulations, adventurer! Your application is...

Approved!

Please ensure that your character name is spelled correctly upon exiting the Songmaker's chambers. A GM will approve your character at their earliest convenience.

Welcome to Requiem!

NOTE: Really great application! Was a pleasure to read. The only note is that 'Ser' is not a title within Requiem so just be sure not to use it going forward.