Ekaym Smallcask

Sir Bronwyn's page

133 posts. Alias of Rune.


Full Name

Sir Bronwyn

Race

Human

Classes/Levels

Cavalier 3

Gender

Male

Size

Medium

Age

25

Special Abilities

Challenge, Mount

Alignment

Lawful Good

Deity

Erastil, Cayden Cailean, Gorum

Location

Stolen Lands

Languages

Common, Elven

Occupation

Knight

Strength 18
Dexterity 13
Constitution 14
Intelligence 13
Wisdom 10
Charisma 15

About Sir Bronwyn

Background:

Born a stable hand’s son, Bronwyn grew up among the priceless horses of his lord, Sir Ivan Petrov, a landed knight who had served with distinction under House Medvyed. He grew up listening to the old knight’s tales about fighters, swordlords and fencers, knights and dragons. He would steal himself a couple seconds mounting his lord’s horse before scrubbing it, or fencing with imaginary enemies using a mop as the sword. He would probably still be cleaning stables and tending horses if it weren’t for a little trick of fate.
Ivor Petrov, the lord’s son, gathered a hunting party to celebrate his upcoming sixteenth birthday, and managed to convince his father to lend him his prized war-mount for the expedition. Ivan never could quite deny his only son anything, so he conceded to his request but sent his most experienced stableman, a humble fellow by the name of Bronos. During the hunt, the lord’s son and his retinue were ambushed by the darker denizens of the legendary fey-haunted Gronzi Forest. Small vicious creatures wielding wicked scythes and red hats bathed in the blood of their victims leapt out of hiding and managed to slay almost a third of the party in one single swoop. Ivor, himself had forsworn many riding lessons in favor of heavy drinking and servant girls, didn’t manage to avoid the many blows against the horse. The horse reared and would throw Ivor off his saddle, if Bronos hadn’t taken the reins and shouted a quick command to calm it. The stableman managed to control the horse long enough for the party to regroup and fight off the enemies, and only his expertise managed to save the horse from its many wounds.
Although Ivor returned home that day as a hero coming back from a war, his father knew better. He interrogated all surviving members of the party, and managed to reach the truth of what happened in the battle. Sir Ivan Petrov asked for the lowly Bronos to keep the matter of his son’s cowardice a secret, and offered any favor in return. "I have a clean cozy home, a strong honest son and a woman who still loves me despite myself. What else could a man want if not that his son has a better life than he?" he replied. The lord smiled at the stableman’s simplemindedness and offered to take his son in service as his personal squire.
And so little Bronwyn’s life took a strange turn. He was given new clothes and a small room the size of his old house right next to the lord’s. During the day he served the lord, tasted his meals for poisons, checked his gear and tended to his horses. He would wake up before the sunrise to train with the household knights and master-at-arms, and would sleep sore and bruised. There were many times when he thought he couldn’t take any more hurt and pain, but he always thought of his father down there in the stables, scrubbing horses and dreaming big hopes for him.
When he started, it felt like heaven. Training with the fabled knights and swordmen he had only heard about and attending his lord’s court (albeit only as a watcher and messenger) was beyond his highest dreams, and it looked like nothing could ever stand in the way of his dream. And then Sir Ivan Petrov died in his sleep, in the age of 65.
His son Ivor was quick to seize control of his father’s lands and possessions, and that included Bronwyn the squire. And then they started: Extravagant expenses, onerous parties, balls and celebrations. Ivor sat in his father’s court for only three days, relinquishing his right to dole out justice in favor of heavier drinking and even more servant girls.
Then there was the guardsman. He failed to open the gates quickly enough for his drunken lord late in the night. Bron tried to justify that to himself, after all any minute the lord’s out in the open field is a minute of peril for the entire land and its subjects. The guardsman was whipped in front of his colleagues, twenty times. Then there was the fletcher. The lord's arrows weren't properly feathered, and so he missed a shot during a hunt. The man ended up with ten broken fingers. The late night visits, the questionable companies; soon Bronwyn was feeling something different when obeying his orders, something he couldn’t quite understand at first: shame.
And then there was the cook. He overcooked a wild goose the lord had hunted, and Ivor turned the cauldron of hot soup on his face. Bronwyn just stood there, feeling and something broke inside of him. There was only one thing that made his service almost bearable: Ilya.
The cleaning girl had hair the color of fresh wheat, though you wouldn't know for she always kept it tightly under cover. Bronwyn couldn’t resist but stare at her in amazement every time she came to fill an empty bucket by the well. Even though they both worked hard, they somehow managed to trade a few smiles here and there and at least one surprised kiss by the well. But then one night she left the lord’s room, sobbing, and during the next days no smiles were exchanged. He couldn't bring himself to ask her what had happened, for he feared it would confirm his fears.
A couple months later, her belly starts to show. Nobody knows who the father is, and Ilya isn't telling anyone. But the word spreads, and one cold autumn night the lord’s squire was called to the lord’s room. "Here they are. Your spurs. You can choose any horse in the stable's aside from mine. You will be assigned a suit of full plate armor, sword and lance. From this day forward you are no longer my squire, but a full-fledged knight under my command." For a single perfect moment everything was forgotten, everything was forgiven. "Do you so swear to serve and obey me and my blood, to protect us, uphold my honor and lead men in my name?"
"I do, sir."
"Then rise, Sir Bronwyn!"
But then came the order. His first task as a knight was to "dispatch" of a "problem concerning the bloodline". Apparently, the lord doesn't want to sully his line and honor by fathering a low-born bastard. Out there, the first snowflake of the winter was dancing through the winds, but as he entered the courtyard, Sir Bronwyn was sweating hard.
Next morning he was brought to the lord's chambers. Words were said, curses were shouted, but in the end the lord just asked: "Why did you do this, knowing full well the responsibility for your actions?"
"I swore to protect your blood and uphold your honor, sir, and I had reasons to believe both were in peril last night."
"You also swore to OBEY!"
"And that I did, my liege. I dispatched of the problem; neither the girl nor the child in her belly will trouble you anymore."
"YOU LET THEM GO!"
"Only under an oath to leave this land and never come back, and never to rise arms against the land."
"You gave them gold!"
"I would be unfit to my station as a knight to send a lone girl out in the snows without any assistance."
"YOU SWORE AN OATH!"
"That I did. To protect your honor, sir, against any and all threats, including yourself."
That was the final blow. He was stripped bare and his back was reduced to a bloody ruin. He promised himself he wouldn't scream, but that was a promise he couldn't keep.
---
A light in the darkness. He tried to talk, but found he had forgotten the words, or they were merely slipping from his parched mouth. How long had it been in the dungeons?
They mounted him in a horse, with all his belongings in his saddleback. Dazed and confused, Bronwyn could barely understand what was happening around him. The disgruntled servants, apparently leaded by his father Bronos, had come up with an escape plan. In the past few months, Ivor’s extravagance had changed to blatant cruelty as his drinking habits escalated. A fire was set into his library as a diversion, and his father had many horses saddled and ready to leave. When dawn came, Bronwyn, his father and a small retinue of servants and ex-guards were already many miles away from the Petrov manor.
And so they ran away. Away from Ivor’s rage and reach, out into lands where he wouldn’t find them. As they nursed Bronwyn back to life, he saw they were scared, lost people, seeking for any place where they could lay their burdens. His father was a tired man who just his home and hearth, and he couldn’t answer everyone’s doubts and calm their fears. And so he took upon himself to try and lead this people, offering them other promises he’s not sure he can keep. But he will die trying if need be. And if in their southward journey he happened to find Ilya again, he wouldn’t mind that so much.

Mount:

Valiant
Female Horse, Heavy
NN Large Animal
Init +4; Senses Low-Light Vision, Scent; Perception +8
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DEFENSE
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AC 21, touch 13, flat-footed 17. (+4 armor, +4 Dex, -1 size, +4 natural)
hp 31 (3d8+15)
Fort +8, Ref +7, Will +4
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OFFENSE
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Spd 50 ft.
Melee Bite (Horse, Heavy) +6 (1d4+5/20/x2) and
. . Hooves x2 (Horse, Heavy) +1 x2 (1d6+2/20/x2)
Space 10 ft.; Reach 5 ft.
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STATISTICS
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Str 21, Dex 19, Con 21, Int 2, Wis 17, Cha 11
Base Atk +2; CMB +8; CMD 21 (25 vs. Trip)
Feats Endurance, Light Armor Proficiency, Run, +1 feat
Tricks Combat Riding [General Purpose], Attack All Creatures [2 Tricks], Come [Trick], Defend [Trick], Down [Trick], Guard [Trick], Heel [Trick], Seek [Trick]
Skills Acrobatics +1, Climb +2, Escape Artist +1, Fly -1, Perception +8, Stealth -2, Survival +7, Swim +3
Languages -
SQ Cold weather outfit, Combat Riding [Purpose], Evasion, Link
Combat Gear Chain Shirt Barding
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SPECIAL ABILITIES
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Cold weather outfit +5 Fort save vs. cold weather.
Combat Riding [General Purpose Trick] The animal has been trained to bear a rider into combat.
Evasion If she makes a successful Reflex saving throw against an attack that normally deals half damage on a successful save, she instead takes no damage.
Endurance +4 to a variety of skill checks. Sleep in L/M armor with no fatigue.
Low-Light Vision See twice as far as a human in low light, distinguishing color and detail.
Run You run faster than normal.
Scent (Ex) Detect opponents within 15+ feet by sense of smell.