Lucian Avengard

Honor: Normal

Name: Lucian Avengard

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Race: Southern Hylian

Place of Origin: Refugee of the Eastern Caves; Re-builder of Ruto

PWC: 4/4/1

Treasures:
Bomb Bag (40r)
Helm Splitter (20r)
Hero's Legacy (Racial; trait)
Outfitter Lv. 1
Peril Beam (20r)
Scent Seed Supply (10r)
Sense (Racial)
Spin Attack (Racial)
20 rupees

Height: 6'3”

Weight: 245 lbs.

Equipment: Lucian wields two axes, both crafted from iron. They appear rather bland, simply consisting of a single black, sharpened wedge of iron connected to their thick, sturdy wooden hafts.

He is oft seen wearing a somewhat plain, thick shirt, sewn of a brown cloth and decorated at the seams and with golden thread. Strapped around his right shoulder is a lone spaulder, most likely forged of iron, though it has began to corrode and decay over time. He has a set of utterly nondescript metal bracers around his wrists, with the cloth of his gauntlets tucked safely underneath. His gauntlets are mostly made of a durable cloth and iron, constituting the plates that cover the tops his hands and fingers.

Over his loins, he dons a pair of well-fitting pants, made out of Moblin hide. The oddly-fashioned pants are a slight brownish-red, and lack much decoration. Over his pants, he wears a fluted plate mail skirt wrought of iron which covers much of his thighs. Covering his shins are plain yet practical greaves of iron, loosely yet securely bound to his legs with leather straps. In terms of footwear, he wears plain, simple boots. His boots are very rugged from a lifetime of use and the abrasiveness of the desert sand.

Appearance: Lucian has a rather thick physique, being heavy and well-muscled as a result of years of intense combat and training. He is also tall, standing well above many of his peers. He likes to keep his hair short and his face shaven due to the desert climate of the region. His eyes are nearly reflective, possessing a practically steel coloring. Numerous scars mar his body as a result of combat; though none are very significant.

While you would normally expect someone of his experience to stand with their back straight, Lucian slouches frequently. As a result of being forced from his home town by Ganon's forces at the mere age of eight, he never learned much of social etiquette, instead being forced into life as a warrior; a survivor.

His calloused skin is almost a golden hue; a testament to just how harshly the desert has treated him.

Personality: He knows little of social etiquette, after being forced to transition from a rural village life into the life of a warrior at the young age of eight. As a result of this, he cannot articulate words appropriately enough to convey emotion where emotion is due, preferring instead to use his actions. Though he may not know how to express his feelings, Lucian is still a caring individual, though his top priorities are his village and his comrades. This particular feature of his personality he no doubt owes to Ganon's invasion those sixteen years ago, having ingrained a fear of losing people close to him deep in his mind, while also giving him violent recurring nightmares about the event. Lucian is also a very confident, determined individual, though he knows the limitations of his skills well enough to know when to run instead of fight. He has a tinge of social anxiety; a slight fear of interacting with the villagers he escaped with or the Gerudo he grew up with.

Residence: He has a bedroll at a Gerudo outpost at the southern end of the Tantari Desert.

Pet: None.

Backstory: He was born on a sunny day, in the village of Ruto. His father was a simple farmer, and his mother was a regular homemaker. He enjoyed eight brief years of normality, including three years of schooling and helping on the farm, and then it happened. Ganon struck.

His legions struck from the shroud of night. Monsters poured into the village, their vile numbers spilling forth over the slumbering sands. Moblins alone constituted his forces, in each hand a crude, jagged halberd and in the other, a torch. The monsters quickly overran the village, setting fire to many houses as their occupants either fled, fought, or burned. Those who chose to fight often did so with little success, the duels ending with a villager's corpse impaled harshly upon a spear. Unfortunately, his mother chose to burn and his father to fight as he himself stumbled confusedly into the streets.

Screams of death and pleas for salvation rang from the city as all but the most hardy, nimble, and wise perished that night. Lucian ran along the city streets in between the blazing buildings as they gradually collapsed, sending out massive waves of smoldering debris into the roads. It was during this moment in chaos that he stumbled upon a sight to behold; a lone man, dressed in blue, heavy armor with the most majestic piece of attire Lucian had ever witnessed fluttering softly behind him. The man's face was wrinkled with age, and decorated with a wild, gray beard that befit someone of his experience. In his hands, he brandished two (now familiar) plain, heavy axes. Though he was overtaken by a crowd of the disgusting, vile creatures, he did not falter. He unleashed one, two, three – the flurry of Spin Attacks transfiguring into its own, berserk technique as the axes in his hands rent the flesh of the many Moblins surrounding him. He was a veritable whirlwind of death and destruction; though not nearly so as the monsters he had just so effortlessly decimated.

He turned, still ready for combat though exhausted, facing Lucian. The man threw Lucian under his arm, and made a mad dash through the now barely standing village. Though many of the creatures may have made an attempt to stop him, none would have lasted against his might. Now a refugee, and still with a child, he explained to him where they were going; in hopes to find safety. Placing Lucian onto his feet, the man began to speak, “There's a fortress to the south – far, far to the south. There are many people there – people who may be willing to help us. Life there may be hard, but it is the only hope we have right now.” Lucian, still frightened from the seeming loss of his entire village, only cried as a reply. Soon, they began their journey south under the night sky.

They reached their destination in a matter of days. This marked the end of a normal life for him, and the beginning of a life filled with training, combat, and preparation. Over the few days after their arrival, they noticed an increase flow of people happening into the fortress. The both of them noticed these people as survivors from Ruto, and the knightly presence who assisted him noticed quite a few were citizens of Rauru as well. Lucian was somewhat comforted by the fact that he knew at least a few more people, but ultimately was still utterly devastated by the loss of his parents.

Time in the fortress passed quickly to those inhabiting it. Lucian was now thought of as a man, and his mentor, the very same man who saved him that painful night, was in his twilight years. He had passed down to Lucian the very same weapons he had used to save him, and indeed the ones he had been trained for so long to wield. This, of course, made him somewhat of an oddity in the Gerudo Fortress. Not only was he a Hylian male, but he was also extremely proficient in the use of axes in combat, in comparison to everyone else's use of some form of sword. In addition to having successfully completed his training, numerous Gerudo women set their eyes on him; their minds and bodies keen to lay with him in bed. And he did. He and his lovers (if you could call them that) bore many children, totaling somewhere around five at the time of his departure; when he would become an instrument in the ploy to retake and rebuild Ruto.

The plan was a relatively simple one: there would be two groups. One would be charged with acting as a diversion, so that the second group could quickly and quietly sneak back into the town, and begin an assault from the inside out. Lucian volunteered to be a member of the first group. Though everyone in that group knew the chance of living was slim, no one cared. Every person was completely and utterly willing to give their lives to retake the village they had lived in for so long. His mentor lead the group, wielding a Gerudo-forged scimitar.

The day of the assault had come. Everyone was ready to face death as they set out from the Gerudo Fortress, some never to return. They made their ways to Ruto separated into their groups, one sneaking in from the east and the other attacking from the south. His mentor lead the group valiantly, beginning the retaking of Ruto. Unfortunately, that was the last Lucian ever saw of him. Lucian doesn't remember much due to the chaos, but he does remember seeing an especially frightening figure, instilling the very meaning of fear into his heart. It was a tall, red-clad figure in very heavy armor, seeming to weave in-between the very flow and ebb of battle, single-handedly decimating their forces. His massive cleaver easily cut down man after man, his very being seeming to phase from reality as arrows glided past his frame.

And then there was a clang. A deafening, screeching sound emanating from the heart of the chaos. He remembers taking off, running, in a direction he can't quite remember. He came to his senses not long after, but something told him to keep going, to not stop until he was in the safety of others. He kept going for days.

It wasn't long until he found himself facing mountains. Finally calmed, yet still curious, he chose to climb. It wasn't long until a figure – a figure he was intimately familiar with, no less – appeared on the jagged cliff face before him. It was indeed the figure of a Gerudo, though she brandished a scimitar at him. She demanded he address himself, whether it be friend or foe. Soon enough, he told her everything. His name, his allegiance, his years at the fortress, and how he came upon it. The ploy to rebuild Ruto, and the hellish red figure. It all came out to this absolute stranger. And for once, in the twelve years since the invasion, he cried.

He stayed at the outpost for a long while. To his surprise, a few others in his group had survived, though they were battered beyond measure. Only one could speak, and the only words he spoke were words of salvation; of praise to the saviors of their lives.

After discovering the outpost, life for Lucian turned somewhat solitary. Not much happened at such a well-guarded outpost that Ganon himself turned a blind eye to. That is, until the lost king of the desert, Mahirid, revealed himself after fifteen years in limbo.

It had been a long, arduous six years since anything had happened at the outpost. Why, now, was it on full alert? Every able-bodied person in the outpost now clutched or fingered their weapon nervously, fully ready for combat. Three cloaked figures appeared in the square, led by the leader of the outpost, a Gerudo named Aveil.

One of the two he was travelling with rang out in a voice, "Gerudo and Hylians alike, kneel, for you are in the presence of a king!”

Lucian knew not how to react to such a demand. Part of him, he felt, wanted to obey the man, and show him his due respect, much like the woman commanded. This part, however, seemed rather insignificant compared to the part of him that told him to stand; to hold his ground against he who did not deserve such respect from him. And he did, much in tune with others around him, though their knees looked ready to collapse. And then, he tore off his cloak. From this, there was no doubt about it: the man that stood before them all was, in fact, the very same king that had disappeared nearly sixteen years ago during Ganon's invasion.

It was at that point that every Gerudo woman in attendance dropped, kneeling before their rightful king. A few Hylians of mixed genders knelt as well, though Lucian remained standing. After all, a king is merely a king! He had done nothing as of yet to command such respect from Lucian. He did, however, have words to speak; a plan to enact. A plan to free the very desert Ganon had enslaved so many years ago.

And Lucian agreed. He finally knelt to the man, willing to die for his cause, if it meant even so much as loosening Ganon's grip on this desert. They were to head south, and attempt to recruit the Stalfos of Ikana to their cause. Lucian had many things to wonder about Ikana, of course. He had just heard it was to the south, but he no idea what it was like; or that it even existed before now. It would all, of course, be settled in due time.

Kay. Looking good, glad to see you tying his backstory into the current plot. Math and all that is right, including his age, etc., so [1/2] from me.

I have updated this sheet in regards to the Racial Perk overhaul, giving Lucian Hero's Legacy as a racial trait.

Updating his sheet. His adventure in the diseased woodland and experiences thereafter have taught him appropriately how to Outfit an individual. He also gains ten roop.