Lyrian Rastler's page

Lyrian stands tall, an absolute mountain of a man clad in functional, if travel worn armor. When not expecting combat Lyrian is rarely seen wearing anything on his head letting his short blonde hair to flow freely, framing an exotic mix of features indicating a mixed heritage. Typically when not dressed in armor, Lyrian is dressed in well-crafted and functional attire, focusing more on function than fashion.

Lyrian is well spoken and well-mannered missing the typical bluntness common with those in his profession. Lyrian’s posture and movement display a disciplined lifestyle, minimizing all unnecessary movements, twitches or mannerisms. This is even more apparent in battle, where his voice is quick to turn razor sharp as he barks orders and taunts his enemies as he takes the field by storm.

Ever personable Lyrian prefers the company of people to being alone and can be found rubbing elbows with everyone: from commoners to soldiers. Paramount to Lyrian’s personality is trust, if he feels betrayed by someone, there is often little that can be done to regain it.

Drake opened a leather-bound file folder and sorted through the papers within. “Lyrian Rastler, I’ve heard about you. Age: Twenty Five. Part of the Rastler family, a long line of dedicated craftsmen. Says here that, never in seven recorded generations have their taxes been late. Most people can’t even name seven generations. ” He licked a finger and turned the page. “Enlisted when he was sixteen. ” He paused. “Medal of Bravery awarded after the battle of Broken Knees...”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lyrian grunted and brought his sword across in a vicious cut catching a charging orc clean in the throat sending a spray of gore behind him. He stepped past the falling orc and smashed a second orc’s skull in with the hilt of his blade sending it to the ground, saving another soldier from being flanked.

“Button up your underwear later ladies! ” Lyrian screamed to the men surrounding him. “The General said he wants us to break the charge! We’ll show him how the Silver Star Company breaks a #@*&ing charge. We’ll bring him the head of the *&$% skinned piece of garbage they call a warlord if he comes this way! Now fall in! ”

Men quickly rushed into ranks around Lyrian as he lead the line to the edge of the hill, all catching their breaths, many bruised and some even bleeding from wounds. Clerics moved up and down the lines as fast as their prayers would take them, tending to the wounded and banishing fatigue. All regarded the rumbling mass before them, it wouldn’t be long now.

Lyrian took a stand half a step before the other men, and bellowed the most vicious challenge he knew. A large bugbear took the centre of the oncoming charge his sights set on Lyrian, and Lyrian alone.

Lyrian hefted his sword and grinned.
------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Truly impressive work. ” Drake said “The Silver Star Company managed to hold the flanking charge until reinforcements could break off and assist. It says here that the Silver Star Company was actually pressing the attack at that point and had gained considerable ground by the time forces arrived. ” He turned the page once more.

“Rescued two men while under heavy arrow fire. Removed arrows from said men and prevented bleeding until healing could be provided. ” He flipped a few pages scanning each. “It just keeps going on and on much similar to this. You don’t live a boring life do you?”

“I try to stay busy sir, idle hands and all that.” Lyrian replied smoothly.

“Speaking of hands, did you follow your family in their craft? Being able to fix up some armor or mend a weapon is a good talent to have out here.” Drake asked setting the folder down.

“I did, I actually hand crafted the armor I’m wearing and my sword as well. I had a mage I met on my journeys add a little bit extra into it too.” Lyrian said hefting and offering his greatsword for inspection.

“Oh? How did you manage to convince a mage to enchant your gear for you?” Drake said admiring the blade.

“I threw someone at him.” Lyrian said with a smile.

“You did what?!” Drake shouted

“ You see…I was in a bit of a mood…and really hungry, I had just stopped at an Inn to get a late lunch…” Lyrian began to explain.

----------------------------------------------------------------

A moment after the first of his food arrived Lyrian could hear the sound of more horses approaching followed by the loud voices of men. The voices quieted for a moment as the men tied their horses to the stalls. The door was bashed open barely short of it flying out of its frame, and five rowdy men walked inside, crowding all atop a table just behind Lyrian, rudely bumping him as they passed. They ignored the barkeep’s protest as he reprimanded them for nearly breaking the door.

“Serving wench! Where are you! ” a bearded man called. “We need fi…nah…ten ales! En make it quick! ” The man bumped Lyrian again as he passed through. The young woman came out from the back, and begrudgingly served the men their drinks and left to the back to get the rest of Lyrian’s food. “Where is the entertainment?! ” one of the men yelled “We’re gettin bored! ” the man bumped Lyrian again causing him to spill a portion of his beer on his lap. Lyrian sighed, and reached for a cloth to wipe away his leg, while the waitress came from the back room carrying a large plate that Lyrian had ordered.

Just as she passed the table behind Lyrian, one of the men reached out and grabbed her by the arm and forcibly pulled her onto his lap. She lost control of the plate and it went crashing to the floor, “Eaayy, meebah we getta some entertainment from tis little wench! I betcha she’d be spent a’ter only one O us, eh! Haha! ” said the fattest man of the group.

The waitress screamed, but Lyrian was already in motion. He stood in one fluid motion and reached over the man behind him, grabbing the fat man’s face and throwing him face first into his spilt food. “I paid for that. Now I can’t eat it. On top of it all, you’ve hit me twice now. ”

---------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun shone brightly through the window. Roland woke up and mumbled a curse as he heard some noise from the floor below. He got up slowly and took even longer to get dressed. He paused at the mirror hanging on the wall, over a table and stared at the reflection. Dark circles were under his eyes, his hair unkempt, face unshaven, he was a mess. He didn’t care.

Roland put a hand into his left pant pocket and pulled out a gold coin. It was old and worn out. He held it for a while and then flipped it. It landed on the table and Roland looked down at it with one eye. Tails, today he would not prepare his spells, breakfast was more important, or perhaps it was time for lunch. He didn’t care.

Grabbing his coat and hat, Roland made his way out of his room, going downstairs to get something to eat and perhaps see what the ruckus was about. Sure enough, as Roland reached the tavern floor, there was a brawl already in action. A large foreign man was fighting with several other men, bandits by appearance. He was outnumbered and he was winning. Roland didn’t give them a second glance as he walked over to his usual table, by the window.

He sat down with a groan and held onto his head with his right hand. His head hurt, and all this noise wasn’t helping. The wizard sat there for a while, with his hand holding his head, until he raised his face and eyes to look for the serving girl. He found her peeking over the countertop with the barkeep, with fearful eyes watching the brawl. Roland called for the serving girl over all the noise and was surprised that she heard him when she turned her head and looked at him from afar. He motioned for her to come over to him and her eyes widened.

She didn’t move. He scowled. She hurriedly rushed over.

“Scrambled eggs, a lot of bacon, some mushrooms, and some tea, ” he told her calmly, once she had crossed the ‘battlefield’.

The girl stood hunched beside him, as though to protect herself from projectile weapons. She looked at him with a bewildered expression, as though she was looking at the strangest sight in the world. He raised his eyebrows and she nodded, rushing back the other way. He looked back to the center of the tavern and noticed one of the men was already lying unconscious on top of a broken table.

Roland’s eyes widened as he noticed the large foreign man grabbing another man by the beard and hurling him towards a table, the table Roland was sitting at. Roland ducked just in time as the bearded man soared over his table and through the window. Glass shattered and showered over the wizard. He rose and pieces of glass fell off his coat and hit the floor. His presence was ominous, as though some sort of winged horror, for when he stood the brawling men turned their gaze towards him.

Roland thrust his left hand into a pocket and his right into his coat. He withdrew a wand in his left and a light crossbow in his right. He pointed the crossbow at one of the men, and the wand at another. The large foreign man held another man by the throat, but made no movement as he stared at Roland. Everyone in the tavern froze and it seemed like time stopped moving. The wizard’s eyes were cold, angry, and tired. His face was a mask of fury as he looked at each of the men in the eyes.

“I have a hangover, I’m tired, sleepy, and hungry and this brawl is NOT making me feel any better, ” he said in the most vicious and low voice imaginable.

And then the tavern exploded into action.

The two bandits that the wizard was pointing his weapons at exchanged quick glances and charged. Roland’s eyes narrowed and he clicked. A bolt from his crossbow lodged itself into the shoulder of the fat man and his wand released a bolt of electricity at the other. The fat man howled at the pain but continued to charge, but his friend dropped where he stood.

In the same instance, as the lighting washed over one of the bandits, the man Lyrian was holding onto pushed himself out of foreign man’s grasp and thrust out with a dagger. Lyrian caught his arm and used the momentum of the thrust to pull the man off his feet. Turning around, Lyrian held firmly onto the bandits leading dagger arm and spun him, releasing him as he gained some air, launching him at the charging fat man.

Roland’s eyes widened, but it was not in surprise at the injured fat man’s velocity, but at the human projectile soaring right at him. The wizard rolled to his left and the fat man began to stumble down, trying to grab Roland by the coat. The soaring bandit slammed hard into the back of the fat man and the two fell into a heap.

Only the electrified bandit remained. He shook violently from the magical impact, but he had managed to stand up again and even hold onto a shortsword. He looked at Lyrian and Roland with furious and frightened eyes. He dropped his weapon as he registered the defeat and held up his hands, He smiled awkwardly, “Uh, I give up? ” he asked the two. Roland walked past Lyrian and stood before the unarmed bandit. He held his wand and pointed it at the man’s chest. The man stopped smiling and he let out a snivel, and began to bob and shiver with fear. Roland stared at him with cold eyes. There was death in the wizard’s eyes and the bandit knew that he was finished.

“Gods dammit Jim! ” a gruff voice yelled as the door was pushed open and a man holding a drawn sword walked through. A shiny star shaped insignia was patched to his chest, just above his heart. He took one look at the wizard pointing the wand at him and the giant of a man reaching for his own sword. “Roland! Who is your friend? ” He grunted standing his ground.

“Good morning sheriff, I am Lyrian. ” the Lyrian replied relaxing his stance.

The barkeep jumped into the conversation “Dammit Sheriff you missed a hell of a fight! These two men beat the snot out of Clem’s gang. ”

“What? ” He said lowering his sword. “Was Clem here?! ”

“I don’t know. ” Lyrian said “I didn’t much care to ask their names. ” Lyrian waved his arms around at the glorious carnage.

“Clem’s got a beard, where is he? You’d definitely know him when you saw it. ” The sheriff said looking at the bandit who had taken a bolt to the shoulder and kicking the blade out of reach. “He’ll live. ”

Smirking, Lyrian handed the sheriff a large clump of bloody hair. “What on earth is this boy?! Have you lost your senses? ” He yelled as he dropped it.

“I think you were looking for that beard. ” Lyrian said. “I guess it didn’t stay on his face when I threw him through the window. ”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Laughing Drake reeled in his chair. “Well I suppose that would do it!”

“I’m not proud that I lost my temper, but the town certainly appreciated it. They were afraid to make a move against the bandit group. They rewarded me as well with this cloak. Enchanted they said – minor wards to keep the elements and magic away.”

“Handy stuff.” Drake said with a nod. “So, why do you want to be out in the wild and hunting goblins? I’m sure you could find a good living bodyguarding someone, or even following your family’s craft.”

Lyrian shrugged. “Maybe one day, but for the time being I’d like to see where my feet take me. I’ve heard the endless rumors of magic relics and strange happenings out here in the wild. Could be a chance for another adventure!” He finished with a big smile.

“And gold?” Drake asked pointedly.

“And gold!” Lyrian laughed, smiling even wider.