Jordas Brandywen's page

He stopped around a corner to catch his breath, panting heavily, trying to control his breathing as he heard gruff voices down the hallway. Jordas had managed to slip free of his bindings, amazed himself at that very fact after desperately twisting and wrenching his hand free of its shackle in order to get the rest of his limbs free. He gathered what equipment he could. Out of his original gear, he recovered only his holy symbol, everything else was taken from his 'hosts'. His second wind back, and the guards moving on, he started down the way they came, hoping his mentally-constructed map of this place was proving accurate after listening to the paroling guards for the last few weeks.

Jordas had originally come to the Cauldron to try and control the arcane power he was showing signs of. And from what he knew of wizards and sorcerers, mixing their magic with his own divine power wouldn't end well. He wanted to control both separately so nothing terrible happened to his person. He found help rather quickly, in the form of a man named En.

En claimed to have great arcane power, recently fired from the Bluecrater Academy. A Human man with what appeared to be a badly scared face. He said it was from an alchemy lab experiment that scared him, and killed a couple students. That event had cost him his livelihood, and now offers lessons at his home for those that can afford him. Jordas could only afford a few lessons, but his display of both arcane and divine power was of great interested to En. And, on the last of his few lessons, took him elsewhere in the Cauldron to meet someone he could find work for to further hone his craft.

What En forgot to mention was that the person in question, was a slaver.

Jordas wouldn't soon forget the ugly, monstrous visage of Kazmojen. Sitting in his chair, surrounded by his flunkies as he sized Jordas up. He had been striped of all his possessions, and forced to display his aptitude. He refused. Kazmojen, apparently, took that as a challenge, and shoved him into the hands of his 'information gatherer', Zarkad.

Zarkad was what one would call 'a chucklef**k', in that he only smiled when HE found something funny, and that usually meant lots of pain for you. Jordas lost track of time when he was stuck in those chambers. Searing flesh, blood, sweat, copper mixing with iron mixing with coal, carved flesh, pierced flesh. It felt like it had gone on for months. Until, mysteriously, Zarkad had declared his work 'finished' and left to have some lackeys collect Jordas and take him back to his cell. In those precious few minutes, he was able to act freely. He quickly went to slipping his bloody wrists out of their bindings, and managed to claw his way out of the ones around his ankles.

He was free.

Jordas quickly grabbed a curved knife from Zarkad's table, his favorite it had seemed due to the blood channel and the unnatural wave to it, and laid in wait for the guards. They walked in, and were about to sound the alarm, when the door slammed shut, and were descended upon by an angry man of Fharlanghn. They fell rather quickly, and he collected what he could from their bodies, patched himself up as best he could, and slipped out of the chamber. His mind whirling, he made his way towards his cell and moved past it, seeking out 'Lockup' where his equipment had been taken and were other future slaves' goods are kept to be sold off. He found the iron-wrought door and, with a set of keys he plucked form one of the dead guards, wrenched the door open and set about finding his things. They weren't there. All he could find was the modest holy symbol he walked into down with, carved from rosewood by his wife.

Wrapping it around his wrist, swore under his breath, and made his way back out. The studded armor he wore was actually a size too small, and made it hard to move at times. Managing to stick to the shadows and using his emerging arcane talent to create distractions, the holy man managed to slip away from his slate-skinned captors, and leave through an exit that led into a larger network of tunnels and caves. Taking a lit torch from a sconce, he began to make his way in. Knowing that he would either escape, or meet his end far away from home.

Please state your name, your place of origin and how you came to this building today. Please address the orbs.
"Uh.. Jordas, Brandywen. 'Place of Origin'.. I guess Goldplain? And I got here by horse, then a bit of walking."

What horrors, seen or unseen, known or unknown, scares you or keeps you up at night?
"Horrors? ...I can't really think of any off the top of my head. Only one that comes close was this cloaked figure I fought once. Hard bloody fight, too. Dunno how I'm still talking about it, actually. But, after the fight, he just vanished. And I had this pounding headache afterwords for days. Like I was many times hungover."

Do you value individual freedom and choice or order and structure?
"Ooh, good question! I suppose I value both. Without order and structure, there'd be no cities, or roads, or guards to patrol at night to keep people safe. But without choice, everyone would be exactly the same. There'd be no crime and riots, sure. But there'd also be no art, no good food, no friendly neighbors or compassionate, helpful strangers."

What languages do you speak? Which do you care to learn?
"Well I can speak Common, Halfling, and a picked up Elvish from a retired Elven Swordsage a short walk from Goldplain. A grumpy fellow, but he really liked our honeyed brandy. Tended to loosen him up and tell all kinds of stories and actually sing when he was in a really good mood."

Where do you see yourself in ten years’ time?
"Hmm... Married would be a nice place to start. So would living peacefully. I certainly don't mind the whole adventuring business, but it tends to be quite hard on one's health."

Will you be able to work with, negotiate with or support a goblin, hobgoblin or orc tribe to get the job done?
"Goblins... *sigh* I don't much care for 'em. Orcs are only slightly better because I actually met a relatively friendly Orc as he was passign through. Gruff fellow, but he could hold a conversation. 'To get the job done'... If they're willing to co-operate, I don't see why not. I wouldn't invite them over for dinner, but I wouldn't kill them in cold blood afterword either. If it can be helped."

Do you think you work well with others?
"Oh my yes! 'Be good to others and they'll be good to you' my Papa would tell me."

If you see innocents suffering will you break from the mission to resolve the issue?
"Well... I'll try to help them, at least. Because I imagine the reason they're suffering is because of someone much bigger or stronger than them and they can't do much against said individual. I'd maybe offer 'em some healing, or buy 'em food, or just comfort 'em in some way. At the very least."

Besides wealth, what else will you work for?
"Good will, long, peaceful lives, gold, job security, or answers. Just to name a few."

Will you obey the law even if you feel it is unjust and goes against your beliefs?
"Hmm... If breaking the law will cause not only myself, but my allies and innocents as well, then I'll force myself to stick to it. Otherwise, I'll have some choice words to the nearest Officer about their silly laws."

What can you offer the team?
"I'm a decent cook! I'm also a good fighter and can cast a number of helpful divine spells. And people tend to like me, so I'm good at talking with people, and telling when they're lying. I can't stand liars."

Are you willing to endure suffering to complete the mission?
"Well of course. Life itself has suffering. And if I can make it this far in life, then one mission shouldn't be too much more difficult."

Complete the mission or save your companions- choose one. And why?
"Companions. Because if I choose the mission, and I end up all on my own, there's a very good chance I'll still fail. And then I'll have failed AND be dead."

Who do you pray to?
"Cayden Caliean, Halfling god of Drinking, Travel, and general merriment."