Pellius Zenderholm's page

1st: Paladin (Hospitaler); Aura of Good, Detect Evil, Smite Evil 1/day, Exotic Weapon Proficiency (Bastard Sword), Exotic Weapon Proficiency (Totem Spear); Favored Class (Paladin), +1 Hit Point

Pellius' parents were supposed to hate each other. His father, Alexite Zenderholm was a Chelaxian nobleman, a proud scion of Korvosa's House Zenderholm. His mother, Donimah, was an exile from the Sklar-Quah, the Sun Clan of the Shoanti. Alexite was a dilettante who studied history, the arts, swordplay, and even a little bit of magic, unsure of what he would do as a younger son that didn't have many prospects in terms of inheritance. Donimah was a tough and disciplined warrior whose defiance of her tribal elders earned her scorn and shame. Circumstance, or maybe fate, brought them both to The Spotted Pony tavern in the village of Harse.

The two of them responded to the same call for adventurers to join a party to help deal with some troublesome goblins plaguing the village. Teaming up with the Harrower Emilian and the halfling priest Chlothar, the band scattered the goblins and started a company with a fine reputation. Alexite and Donimah were rivals from the beginning, seeking to best each other in every encounter, sometimes to the detriment of the group's success. But as their adventures became more dangerous, they worked together more and more and their friendship and eventually love. The group finally fell apart after a terrible battle that killed Emilian and saw Alexite gravely wounded. Alexite felt he would not see his beloved Korvosa again, and he begged Dominah to carry on without him. It was then that Dominah told Alexite she was pregnant with his child. Realizing that more was at stake than her, Alexite pressed his Zenderholm signet ring into Dominah's hand, and told her that no matter what, he loved her, and that his last wish was that she and their future son be accepted as Zenderholms by his family. Then he succumbed and died. Before Donimah and Chlothar returned to Korvosa to return Alexite's body to the Zenderholm family.

Korvosa was not hospitable to Donimah, as Alexite's family refused to allow her to even attend her lover's funeral. Wanting to see the wish of his dead friend fulfilled and his remaining friend's safety assured, Chlothar attended and spoke during the eulogy, praising Alexite's witty optimism and his generous spirit, making a point to mention his last wishes, much to the astonishment of the family. The Zenderholm patriarch, Alexite's father, angrily refused and had his men toss Chlothar out on his ear. Chlothar reported the sad news to Donimah, and was surprised when she took them not as a rejection, but as a challenge. She would stay in Korvosa, she told him. She would stay and give her son a life here, just to spite the Zenderholms. Chlothar retired to tend to the spiritual needs of his hometown in Baslwief.

Donimah made her home among other Shoanti exiles and refugees in the slums of Korvosa, quickly becoming a pillar of that tiny, downtrodden community, and within a few months, her son Pellius was born. Pellius spent his childhood living a hard, but happy life. Despite her past as a fearsome warrior, Donimah proved she was just as capable as a caretaker and educator. She showed Pellius what it meant to be honorable, what it meant to be Shoanti. They helped the local Sarenites distribute dawnflower bread to the other poor folk of their neighborhood, breaking up fights among the community, and working to make it as safe and happy as it could possibly be in a city that despised them.

That changed one terrible night, when Donimah was murdered in the dead of night, stabbed in the back by an unknown assailant that put the entire slum into an uproar. Pellius was utterly broken by the event. The fact that Alexite's signet ring, the only memento of his father they had, was stolen, made it even worse. Now orphaned, he wasn't sure where he'd go, when the Church of Sarenrae offered him a place to stay. Though initially the courts wanted to stick him in an orphanage somewhere, Pellius had the luck to encounter a Zenderholm with a small bit of compassion: his late father's sister, Zenobia Zenderholm. Known for her generosity towards less fortunate people and her unflinching dedication to justice, she allowed the Church to officially adopt Pellius as a ward.

Pellius was not prepared for a quiet life in the temple. Still enraged by his mother's murder, he became aggressive to almost everyone around him. His mentor, Valdur Bromathan IV, sensed that Pellius would be better served directing his energy into more physical faith than contemplation and healing, introducing Pellius to the concept of the paladin. He was almost instantly enamored with the idea, a champion of justice and honor, destroying the wicked through will alone. He began martial exercises alongside his religious instruction, and while he soon was fully ordained in the Dawnflower's church, he never forgot the spirits his mother called upon, and knew that they were as much a part of him as Sarenrae was. He would often accompany Bromathan, whom he began to regard as a father to replace the one he'd never known, into the poorer sections of Korvosa, where thugs and miscreants weren't neccessarily afraid to harass priests for money.

On one such journey, while distributing bread among the poor, everything changed. Pellius spotted the Zenderholm crest on a ring in a stall. He ran to the stall and demanded to know how the merchant found it. Almost immediately rebuffed, Pellius persisted, offering what little coin he had to the man. It wasn't enough to buy the ring back, but enough to get a name: Gaedren Lamm. Learning the identity of the man responsible for his mother's death made Pellius angry. Incredibly angry. So angry that suddenly, much to everyone's surprise, the stall caught fire. Though it was put out quickly, Pellius was shocked and horrified at what he'd done, especially since he almost lost his father's ring for good. He paid the merchant with every last coin he had in apology, and the merchant gave him the ring out of fear.

While Bromarthen attempted to comforted him as best he could, Pellius wasn't sure what to do. After that incident, he began hearing whispers he could barely understand, seeing faces he couldn't recognize. He wasn't sure where the fire had come from. Was it Sarenrae's righteous fury? His ancestors trying to drive him to vengeance? Was he simply going mad? He tried to find answers through prayer, and was surprised when an answer came...in the form of a Harrow card.

Stoic; Pellius is no stranger to hardship and suffering, having grown up among the Shoanti ghettoes of Korvosa and lost his mother as a teenager. The church of Sarenrae has taught him that even though the night may be dark, the sun rises each morning, and he applies this to his life. He constantly strives to take hits so others don’t have to, believing he can endure and recover where others would falter or die. He seeks to become so tough that a knife in the back would not even slow him down.

Honorable; While Pellius' mother was an exile from the Sklar-Quah, she still held herself to the high standards of honor they are famous for, and she instilled these values in Pellius during his childhood. Pellius' time in the church of Sarenrae complemented this well, with Pellius striving to live by the code that her paladins swear to uphold.

Generous; Having lived in poverty most of his life, Pellius is keenly aware of how hard Korvosa's poor and working-class people have it. He tries to share his time, his skills and whatever money he can spare to help such people, wanting to ease their struggles like the Church eased his when his mother died.

Wrathful; Pellius greatly admires Sarenrae and the virtues she represents, but finds it hard to walk the path of forgiveness and redemption. His sense of honor and justice turns to righteous anger when he sees the weak or less fortunate being abused by the powerful and selfish, and when that happens, he's quick to draw his blade. For years he's tried to bring himself to forgive Gaedren Lamm for the murder of his mother, at least in his own mind, but when he thinks of the man, all he feels is rage and grief.

Driven; Pellius is eager to prove himself, whether in battle or in matters of faith and justice. When he has a goal, he will strive for its completion regardless of how much hardship he must suffer or what obstacles rise in his way. It sometimes seems like the man is incapable of giving up, which troubles his mentors in the church, especially in regards to his drive for justice...which is edging ever closer to vengeance.

Ht: 6'6"
Wt: 220 lbs
Age: 17
Hair: Short, Wiry, Black
Eyes: Black
Skin: Dark Bronze

Pellius towers over the majority of Korvosa's people, even over some of his mother's people in the slum he once called home. His physique is muscular and well-toned from daily exercise and combat training. Whereas most Sarenites emulate the dervishes of Qadira, Pellius prefers old-fashioned Chelaxian swordplay, a style where his brawn works to his advantage. He keeps his black hair clipped short, like a soldier's, separating him from the average Shoanti, who shaves his head completely. He sees wisdom in the Shoanti reasoning that long hair is easy to grab in battle, but doesn't feel like he deserves to emulate his Shoanti forebears completely, as he grew up in Korvosa. He has a square chiseled face, with dark eyes and a strong nose.

Fire. It danced and flickered in the brazier. It roared and raged in his breast. Two years. He'd been here for two years while the wretch who killed his mother walked free. He tried to slow his breathing, tried to say anything besides a cry of anger, before letting a frustrated grunt escape.

"Pellius."

He turned to see the Dawnfather standing behind him, head bowed in concern.

"Dawnfather, I..."

"Please. It's just Valdus here."

"I should have handled it better, I should have-"

"Pellius, don't. I know you are angry. I know what you've learned hurts...probably more than I can imagine. It's not wrong to feel this way. You're not a saint or an angel. You're a human being." He knelt beside Pellius, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I can't...I can't get rid of it. I try to pray and all I can hear is her screaming. I drill and every target looks like his horrible face, grinning at me! How can I simply forgive that? Forget that?"

Valdus sighed. "You don't. You're a paladin now."

Pellius' eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

"The Dawnflower gives second chances to us all. Third, fourth chances even. But some people, no matter how many chances they get, choose to hurt others. Some...just don't care. And when you meet people like that, sometimes the only answer for them is a sharpened length of steel. Why did you think we even have a room to drill for battle in? Paladins defend the faith...but they also strike down the unrepentant. This man, this Gaedren. He's hurt others besides you. Sarenrae would not hold his death against you. And in fact would probably be more disappointed that you're wasting your time trying to bring yourself to forgive someone who doesn't want to be forgiven."

He turned away a bit, looking at the spear and sword he'd leaned against the column.

"You learned how to use those for a reason," said Valdus. "Revenge may not be the same thing as justice...but I think you know the difference well enough to judge for yourself. And even if you do stray...that is why Sarenrae offers you a second chance. To turn back to the light and learn from your mistakes."

Pellius stood, and took up the weapons and turned back to his teacher. The fire was still there, still burning, but it felt quieter now, steadier. He knew Gaedren had to pay for his crimes. But it wasn't just about him anymore. It wasn't about his mother, but about what was right. He turned to the door, and stepped into the street, looking up into the sky and closing his eyes for a moment, feeling the sun warm his skin. He was ready.