Pheliks "Mander" Monmouthe's page

Pheliks "Mander" Monmouthe isn't the typical Chelaxian stock. Both of his parents were Ulfen mutts, but heavily favored the Chelaxian blood, but some how through the vagaries of genetics he ended up with ruddy blonde hair and a strong wiry build. Somewhere he got a 6 foot stature but it certainly wasn't noticeable when he was younger and was the runt of his age group. He has brown eyes though that everyone says are his mother's, but there is something in them that has cropped up in recent years, perhaps its all the near death experiences and close calls with the explosives or something more but behind his stern gaze lurks a touch of madness.
His long hard years as an indentured laborer have made him tough and quick. And he has used the military training skills to great effect in his ability to sneak about quietly, no one noticing his passing until the fireworks start.
He wears well worn and well patched leather armor when he is on the job, and prefers soft soft moccasins to the hobnailed boots of the infantry men. He carries around an assortment of alchemical explosives, because who knows when you need a quick out, and there is also his trusty musket that will more than take care of the job when things get messy

Hardworking: Mander learned a long time ago that sometimes the best reward is just a job well done.
Slightly Crazy: When Mander learned of his mother's suicide and the destruction of the family home he took it real hard, his primary life goal: to make it home, had just been turned on its head. After his decent he began to truly look at his comrades in arms as the only family left to him and he cherishes them (though he won't tell you that. He also has begun sing folk tunes and whistle was he works, whether its a jaunty little tune while reframing a house, mining a road, or more disturbingly sighting in one of those Nirmathi bastards with his musket.
Loyal: Mander is highly loyal to Molthune despite his past, he has picked a side and he'll stick to it. But he is even more loyal to those to the right and left of him in the trenches and heaven help any man that comes against them, or betrays that trust. He may well find a hissing present in his bed roll or be part of an "industrial" accident.

Pheliks was born an Imperial Citizen in Fort Ramgate to a locally known and well respected merchant family. Life was relatively peaceful growing up... well at least at home. Ramgate was always under constant threat from Nirmathas, and as far as that aspect of life was concerned it was far from peaceful. When he was ten he went on a merchant expedition with his father to the capital, Canorate. On the return trip home, via Korholm, when the boat ran a ground on an unseen sand bar. They were forced to camp on the river bank under the eves of the Shrikewood. That night they were beset upon by bandits. The slaves were captured, and the citizens were put to the sword, except for young Pheliks, who at ten passed for a toe-headed halfling. The slave traders lashed them together and forced them to march, they were going to be sold on the markets in Eranmas. Most of the slaves accepted their fate, except for young Pheliks, despite long protestation and several beatings. Eventually he found his chance, and on the rough steppe outside of Eranmas, in the dead of night he made his escape. He managed to elude his captors by hiding in a badgers den.
The following morning he made his way to the nearest farm house to ask for help. Once again he was rebuffed and rebuked, the laborers there had no wish to help this runaway. Left on his own Pheliks survived for a month before he was captured by the local militia. When they couldn't find neither papers nor proof of ownership, they sold him to a local landowner, Master Mikeloff, as an indentured servant. Pheliks soon learned that the only thing protesting got him was a sore jaw and a black eye. He quietly accepted his lot but deep inside he would never forget where he came from, and he was always searching for a way back. He worked as a laborer on a farm, and he worked hard, for he soon realized that his best hope was to play the system from the inside. The landowner noticed his strong work ethic and favored Pheliks, as he grew older he was entrusted with more duties and once it was discovered he knew his letters and basic math, he was allowed to sit in with the children's tutor when he had available time. When he turned 17 he went to Master Mikeloff to request his permission for release to join the military. Mikeloff was sad to see such a bright servant leave but his patriotism wouldn't allow him to say no, but Master Mikeloff wrote him a letter of recommendation to the recruiting office stating that Pheliks was far to bright a boy to be consigned to some line unit, that he knew his letters and maths and was a very capable hand. The recruitment office ran Pheliks through a series of tests and determined that he was indeed capable and assigned him to train with the engineers and receive the new gun training from the Wasteware instructors. Pheliks soon found his calling in life and embraced the engineers with relish, he became an excellent marksman but truly shined with his knack for demolition and explosives. It was because of this he earned the nickname "Salamander" which was promptly shortened to "Mander." He was assigned to Korholm and then to Fort Ramgate as an irregular to bolster the defenses and as a covert saboteur against the Nirmathi.
Upon arriving in Ramgate, he was put to work shoring up the defenses, rebuilding the gate and helping to reconstruct houses that had been razed in the most recent attacks. He soon learned that his mother had committed suicide in the depths of her depression and had been buried in a pauper's grave because the house had been mortgaged to cover the failed venture. He also learned that his home had been victim to an arsonist saboteur several years earlier, starting a fire that razed the district. Upon learning this something broke in Pheliks, he began to take deeply relish his missions and began to take unnecessary risks. He began to hum tunes during battle and laugh when there were no jokes. He would also take the deaths of comrades much more deeply than anyone in the unit. He still performed admirably and did his duty but the years of war began to wear on him. He knew, however, that deep down there would only ever be the war for him.
In his last year of enlistment his company received a new commander, Captain Jarlmark. This new commander was young and had something to prove; he was also rash and inexperienced... not someone that a line company that performs covert missions wants. After a string of close calls, near misses and a number of deaths that Captain Jarlmark had no feeling for Pheliks' squad decided to do something about that. On the next mission they were mining a road to cut off supply lines to the Nirmathi, when the explosives they had brought "accidentally" went off when the axle on the cart gave out going over a rock and the poor commander was turned into nothing more than a fine mist. The horrific loss was notable but certainly not unheard of and high command sent a replacement the following week.
Pheliks was discharged and repatriated four months after the incident, he is currently on holiday, deciding whether to take up a job with Wasteware or reenlist.