Marlo Westshire's page

Marlo Westshire grew up in on a small farm several miles away from any cities or towns, growing up a rather ignorant, distant life. Life for him seemed rather blissful and free during his younger childhood. He had a loving, caring mother who looked after him and a hard working, stern but generally fair father, and one younger sister, Clara, whom he cared for deeply. Much of this part of his life, however, seems a faint memory of someone else to him now; for a life that seemed so wondrous would quickly turn cruel and bleak.

When Marlo was 9 years old, the farm was attacked by two thieves, both of which wore dark black cloaks, and black masks over their face. The only things the thieves would leave behind would be one of their dark, pointy ears that his father had managed to cut off, the likes of which Marlo would never forget. Marlo’s mother, who had been the first to run into the thieves, had been fatally wounded, dying several minutes later in her husbands arms.

After the death of his wife, Marlo’s father fell into a long, and violent depression, often beating Marlo for anything he felt was not good enough, for not doing something he told him to do (or, in most cases, thought he told him to do), and sometimes, just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. As the years went on, his father got more violent, and picked up drinking as well, going into violent rages and beating Marlo to a pulp. Finally, when Marlo was 11, he had enough, and planned to run away from the house with his sister. Unfortunately, they didn’t get too far. The father sent his dogs after them, tracking them down quickly in the woods to the south of their farm. Father went into a rage upon reaching them, relentlessly beating Marlo with a cane. Ckara, fearing her father would kill Marlo, attempted to grab his arm to get him to stop. Without realizing what he was doing, Marlo’s father whipped around and smashed his cane into Clara’s face, sending her crashing backwards and slamming her head into a tree, breaking her neck, and instantly killing her.

Horrified upon realizing what he had just done, he fled deeper into the woods. His body would be found hanging from a tree five days later, a simple note in the chest pocket of his shirt reading “Forgive me”.

The next few years of Marlo’s childhood were spent in a makeshift orphanage just on the outskirts of a small trading village. The orphanage worked its children hard, fed them something that could be considered edible (by the insane), and gave them shelter that did nothing of the sort. Marlo stayed there until he reached the age of 14. Fed up of the working conditions and the terrible food, he simply up and left…not that the orphanage actually cared. Not really knowing where to go, he began wondering around for sometime before he by chance walked into what appeared to be a one sided fight. On one side, you had an old man carrying nothing but a staff and some loose robes, against twenty well armed and equipped knights. Marlo, keeping his distance, watched as a huge monster appeared out of nowhere and began shredding through the soldiers. When he looked looked back at where the old man had been, instead he saw another giant abomination which in turn began mauling through the soldiers like they were toy soldiers. Within minutes, the field had been cleared of soldiers, and target left was himself, and before he realized it, one of the monsters was charging at him. Just as it was about to slice the boy in half, it stopped, backing off. The old man had returned, and he beckoned Marlo to follow him. Marlo, not knowing what else to do, obliged, following the man and the monster, both of which turned westward.

Over the next decade and a half, Marlo spent much of his time studying under the old man, spending much of the time studying the arcane and summoning, learning runes, world history, various races and creatures of the world, calligraphy, and even some languages through the huge archives of books stored in the mans study. Of particular interest was his studies in elves and elven kind, which he took particular interest in because of the similarities in their appearance and that of the thieves that had killed his mother.

After 15 long years of studying and tutelage from the old man, the sage asked Marlo to join him on a journey. During the trek, the sage taught Marlo first hand some of the most basic summoning spells and combat techniques. Halfway through, however, the sage unexpectedly sold Marlo off to the army. Marlo never really found out why he had been sold off like that, but he swore revenge against the old man. He didn’t particularly hate the military life, he just resented having been tricked and sold against his will into it.

Fifteen more years passed, during which Marlo learned basic swordsmanship and military strategy. His body, now war torn and scared from the years of abuse on his farm, seemed to have aged far faster then normal, and by his mid 40’s he appeared a bit warn and beat down, no longer the strong young lad of his early days. Late in his career, he and a few soldiers under him raided a house that had been hiding and supporting a group of revolutionaries. Upon entering the house, they were ambushed. Marlo himself had both of his arms crushed during the battle and had to be dragged out of the building. Due to the lack of a professional healer at the time, and only semi trained medics on hand, his arms were fixed up rather poorly, and they never regained their mobility or strength. Weeks later, Marlo was medically discharged.

For the next two years, Marlo returned to studying, having bought his own land and house outside the city with the money he got from his military career, and began building up his own library of study and arcane spell books. This time around, however, he focused on studying and practicing the arts of summoning. In practice, he found himself summoning one particular critter quite often, and by his 46th birthday he had formed an unnatural pact with the being, which seemed to get stronger and stronger as his own summoning powers grew.

After another year of training his mind and his technique, he decided to leave his home and do some live training. (insert party joining here)

Background notes:

Marlo has a hatred for Elves and Elven kind, irrationally blaming them for the death of his mother and his turbulent childhood. He can work with them, but he doesn’t trust them, and is quick to join in a fight against them.

Due to numerous betrayals and a brutal childhood, Marlo has a fairly warped world view, and quite thoroughly enjoys seeing others suffer. Part of the advantages of being a soldier in the army was not too many questions were asked when a criminal wound up dead…or a few unfortunate bystanders. Natrually, torture is not below him. Neither is toying with his prey.

Even with all that, Marlo tends to keep to himself, and would much rather hang back and watch the carnage then actually be a part of it. Part of why he enjoys summoning so much.