Paladin (sacred shield/warrior of the holy light ) HP:38 AC:23 (T:12 FF:22) Fort: +10 Ref: +6 Will: +9 int +3 perception +7
Celestial, common, elven, abyssal
About Darrien Rossberg
Traits- seeker, reactionary
AC:23 FF:22 T:11
Offense: move: 20ft
Feats: improved shield bash, fey foundling
3-Additional lay on hands.
+1 heavy spiked shield (1175)
MWK full plate (1650)
Darrien rossberg lead a simple life, from his birth, to his teens, he farmed with his father, worked odd jobs around his small village, and enjoyed strong friendships with many people. Even the day he got married was a simple, but happy day for him. He did his best for his family, he provided food, and comfort. He had a 3 year old son. He was happy. Alas, one day a roving band of ghouls swept down upon the farm, and Darrien could only watch as his wife and child, the lights of joy in his life were taken from him. As chance would have, several of his childhood friends had been on their way to visit, and saw darrien finally smash dead one ghoul with half of a broken metal door. Some fled back to town for aid, others picked up tools and ran to his aid. But they were not warriors, and soon they too began to fall. Had it not been for a ranger, descending from the shadowed woods to cut down the ghouls, they would have all died that day. While the others thanked the ranger, Darrien could only hold the half eaten corpse of his wife in stunned silence. Finally after what seemed like ions, the ranger strode over to Darrien and placed a hand on his shoulder, suddenly Darrien rose and turned on the ranger in anger. He blamed him, he cursed him for not coming sooner, he yelled more curses than any man ever should, and with a heart filled with anger and despair, he fled to the northen woods, up the mountain. What happened during that time is a haze to Darrien and he cannot recall how much time passed, perhaps days,but eventually he found himself at the peak of the mountain, carrying the metal door, and the corpse of his wife. He sat the door down on the snow and looked out over the ledge, a steep drop. He closed his eyes, but before he did anything else, a faint voice came, and with it, something his father had said to him countless times when he had been depressed.
"Remember son, the darker the night is, the brighter the stars shine. The only option is to keep going, and find new joy."
Later the next morning Darrien returned, carrying the metal door, but having left his wife buried on the mountain peak. He had realized something. The joy of life was precious, and while it could be found everywhere, in anything, losing any of it to the ever encroaching darkness was a horrible loss, that night he had made a vow, a vow to his family, to Continue to live and find joy in life enough for all of them, and a vow to himself, to protect that light of joy whereever he found it, and to kindle it in places he did not. He forged the beaten metal door into a shield, a shield of a quality far beyond what his skill should have been capable of, and upon that shield resided an emblem, as if it were a stamp of approval.