Birthplace: Near Heston, Midlands
Birth sign: The Watcher
Age: 30
Height: Average
Weight: Average
Eyes: Light Blue
Hair: Chestnut Brown
Description
5" 10', 140 lbs, Medium Complexion. Midlander of mixed descent
General Health: Several injuries, strong physical condition otherwise
Profession: Formerly a watchman employed at a Parish
Faction Affiliation: None
Languages: Common
Accent: Heston/Midlands
Strengths: Ambition, Loyalty
Weaknesses: Delusions of grandeur, mood swings
Governing Virtue: Sacrifice
Governing Throne: Pride, Wrath
Intro: Aodh Dermot was recruited to guard a local farm owned by a member of the prelacy as a boy. Initially he would find himself using his wit and a small bow to ward off hungry dogs and mischievous foxes. As time passed the threats grew in size and he would frequently be forced to take action against hungry civilians trying to raid the property edges. The employment kept him busy, fed, and comparatively well-payed into his late teenage years. The farm was able to hold against the destruction and madness that permeated the lands.
With most of his life spent in service to the local prelacy, he sometimes found himself being assigned additional tasks. The word would come passed down from above, often in the form of a letter which he would be expected to read and follow. Reading what was not said was often as important as reading what was said. With great zeal he performed the tasks to the best of his ability, hoping to one day make his mother and father proud through his accomplishments.
After the death of his father, his mother had remarried immediately. She was always one to try to improve her position in life, and marriage to a citizen of higher standing was certainly a way to achieve that. With words of encouragement and praise she promoted the idea of exploring their families lineage and finally proving the right to be members of the prelacy themselves. She claimed all that was preventing them from validating the claim was simple paper work, which would require large sums of coin to complete. "It is all those false claimants, clogging up the officials with their desperate hopes of achieving that which they have no right to." She had spoke of this often to him over the many years.
At the behest of his mother Aodh Dermot sets off to the First Province with the main motivation to acquire wealth or prestige in amounts large enough to finalize his family's entry into the Prelacy.
Legacy of Aodh Dermot
Re: Legacy of Aodh Dermot
The first week in the quarantine zone brought many surprises. Aodh had not expected to witness such extravagance. The citizens of the small fort were wealthy beyond belief. Food of all types cooked by what must have been master chefs. Clothing as fine as any he had ever seen or touched. Weapons which looked like objects from bard's tales. Armor, heavy, strong, and plentiful. Finely woven carpets and tapestries. A large, functional sewer system which carried away waste. The land around the Fort was bountiful. Deer, rabbits, and all manner of small beasts grazed and sustained themselves. There was enough food in the area to feed a small army. Inside the walls of the Fort, and atop them, stood guards trained with muskets to keep the populace safe.
The guards with their muskets made Aodh proud. Once he had protected his small fence-line much the same way. He made note to one day hire plenty of guards for his palace so they could enjoy a life of good, honorable work the same as he had done.
---
Aodh outfits himself with quality gear from the market. For his armor he spares no expense, buying the strongest and sturdiest leather he can find. Although a man prone to thriftiness whenever possible, he refuses to skimp on something as important as his physical well-being.
For weeks he battles the simple, sluggish undead of the land. Collecting coins, exchanging them at the bank, and watching as his fortune grows. After some time he realizes that their may be two paths to achieve his overall goal of attaining his rightful Prelacy status. If he could gain enough prestige, be well-known and renowned for accomplishing great deeds, he would have an easier time of meeting the right people needed to verify his bloodline. With this in mind, he begins to travel farther and longer each day in search of Fame as well as Fortune.
---
In a small wooden hut outside the village of "Briar's Hollow'':
A tremendous battle, spells flying and tin crook swinging wildly. Eventually Aodh succumbs to the vile magic and falls to the floor.
She did unspeakable things with my body while I struggled to regain consciousness. After what seemed like hours, days, it was hard to tell, she simply cackled and pushed me out the front door.
---
The witch had broken Aodh's good bow-fingers. He refuses to see a doctor out of embarrassment about the situation. His fingers heal improperly, rendering him currently unable to properly draw the bow string.
He returns to the witches hut and builds a large wooden prison around the perimeter while she sleeps.
---
Aodh spends his days gathering wood and increasing the thickness of the prison's walls, hoping to starve the witch out. At night he collects coins from the rising corpses of Briar's Hollow.
All the best hunting is at night but I can't see a damn thing. Next time bring a large brazier.
He falls asleep while smoking a cigarette. The witch haunts his dreams.
She laughs heartily before whispering her words of power. The room glows a strange hue, and Aodh falls to his knees again. She pushes him over without effort and straddles his arm while yelling "And now I'm going to ride that strong hand like a broomstick!" He tries to scream but the world turns dark.
---
Another night:
Aodh walks briskly towards the direction of the old wooden hut. He freezes mid step to gawk at a large opening in the wooden palisade.
Someone broke the wall...
He leaves the area. Aodh vows to get revenge against the witch, or any witch, somehow. Despondent, he returns to the fort and spends weeks in bed pouting with the occasional cigarette break.
---
As he grows tired of laying about, he decides he will practice a skill gone weak with ages of disuse. He begins to train himself how to sneak among people without being noticed. He vows to train hard enough to find and dispose of witches, granting him his revenge as well as renown.
---
In the long spans of nothingness that now permeate his life, he devises a plan to trap witches by luring them in with the precious 'Moriums' and other magic baubles that they seek.
---
Aodh hangs around the fort collecting coin and talking to locals. Tries to gain information about the area and the people. Upset at not being able to send letters or money out of province to his mother, he falls further into despair.
He is smoking constantly, making little progress on his original goals, and devoting many hours of each day to sitting on his porch thinking of ways to find and destroy witches.
---
Having heard about a local poker game, Aodh travels to the small bar in hopes of meeting some more of the Fort's wealthier residents.
---
The guards with their muskets made Aodh proud. Once he had protected his small fence-line much the same way. He made note to one day hire plenty of guards for his palace so they could enjoy a life of good, honorable work the same as he had done.
---
Aodh outfits himself with quality gear from the market. For his armor he spares no expense, buying the strongest and sturdiest leather he can find. Although a man prone to thriftiness whenever possible, he refuses to skimp on something as important as his physical well-being.
For weeks he battles the simple, sluggish undead of the land. Collecting coins, exchanging them at the bank, and watching as his fortune grows. After some time he realizes that their may be two paths to achieve his overall goal of attaining his rightful Prelacy status. If he could gain enough prestige, be well-known and renowned for accomplishing great deeds, he would have an easier time of meeting the right people needed to verify his bloodline. With this in mind, he begins to travel farther and longer each day in search of Fame as well as Fortune.
---
In a small wooden hut outside the village of "Briar's Hollow'':
A tremendous battle, spells flying and tin crook swinging wildly. Eventually Aodh succumbs to the vile magic and falls to the floor.
She did unspeakable things with my body while I struggled to regain consciousness. After what seemed like hours, days, it was hard to tell, she simply cackled and pushed me out the front door.
---
The witch had broken Aodh's good bow-fingers. He refuses to see a doctor out of embarrassment about the situation. His fingers heal improperly, rendering him currently unable to properly draw the bow string.
He returns to the witches hut and builds a large wooden prison around the perimeter while she sleeps.
---
Aodh spends his days gathering wood and increasing the thickness of the prison's walls, hoping to starve the witch out. At night he collects coins from the rising corpses of Briar's Hollow.
All the best hunting is at night but I can't see a damn thing. Next time bring a large brazier.
He falls asleep while smoking a cigarette. The witch haunts his dreams.
She laughs heartily before whispering her words of power. The room glows a strange hue, and Aodh falls to his knees again. She pushes him over without effort and straddles his arm while yelling "And now I'm going to ride that strong hand like a broomstick!" He tries to scream but the world turns dark.
---
Another night:
Aodh walks briskly towards the direction of the old wooden hut. He freezes mid step to gawk at a large opening in the wooden palisade.
Someone broke the wall...
He leaves the area. Aodh vows to get revenge against the witch, or any witch, somehow. Despondent, he returns to the fort and spends weeks in bed pouting with the occasional cigarette break.
---
As he grows tired of laying about, he decides he will practice a skill gone weak with ages of disuse. He begins to train himself how to sneak among people without being noticed. He vows to train hard enough to find and dispose of witches, granting him his revenge as well as renown.
---
In the long spans of nothingness that now permeate his life, he devises a plan to trap witches by luring them in with the precious 'Moriums' and other magic baubles that they seek.
---
Aodh hangs around the fort collecting coin and talking to locals. Tries to gain information about the area and the people. Upset at not being able to send letters or money out of province to his mother, he falls further into despair.
He is smoking constantly, making little progress on his original goals, and devoting many hours of each day to sitting on his porch thinking of ways to find and destroy witches.
---
Having heard about a local poker game, Aodh travels to the small bar in hopes of meeting some more of the Fort's wealthier residents.
---
Re: Legacy of Aodh Dermot
With luck, and a bold move, Aodh wins a heavy bag of silver coins.
---
Aodh meets a doctor in the craft-hall marketplace.
He questions her about any potential knowledge of witches in the area. The doctor invites him to visit her home across the east bridge.
They discuss various topics as the night begins to fall.
The two head back to the safety of the fort.
---
Another day:
A nice woman stops for conversation.
The people of the fort begin to bring Aodh's spirit back slowly. The simple act of saying Hello or Good day helps to snap him out of his dreary existence on some occasions.
---
Aodh tries his hand at another poker game night, this time losing everything on his first round.
---
Meeting with another local near the market stalls, Aodh shares his opinion of witches.
The conversation is cut short when his stomach gurgles and he flees to the nearby trees to relieve himself.
The concerned citizen explains that Aodh has contracted dysentery, and must seek medical or he will die. After initially refusing treatment and trying to "ride it out" at home, he is forced to walk bare foot to the hospital by his condition. His good boots completely covered in shit, he discards them into a field.
After receiving attention from a strange doctor he feels only dizziness and brain-fog from the several medications thrust upon him.
Ara observes as he shits behind a tree, then advises that he take refuge inside the hospital washroom until his condition lessens.
The night spent in the hospital washroom is long and horrific. The stench of his own feces causing him to gag and heave occasional bursts of medicinal tea into the nearby sink. As the floor begins to pile up with his excrement he attempts to stomp it down the drain of the bathtub, barefoot. He wipes at the mess with the remainder of his pants and tries to wash with water from the sink whenever possible.
Outside the walls he can hear the faint sounds of the small town coming to life, just as he begins to drift asleep in the more clean corner of the room.
---