Wrathadorand, the Dawnstar's page

The boy was born with golden eyes. Atsila, the clan’s shaman, said that golden eyes meant he was destined for greatness. Eschewing a traditional shoanti name, he was named Wrathadorand, elvish for “purifying flame”. The small clan were simply happy to have a healthy child, destined or not. As difficult as it was for such a small group to survive in the demon-tainted Broken Lands, the Uleyov Shadde-Quah (Wandering Axe Clan) were lucky even to have the occasional live birth. Wrathadorand’s growth was not stymied by the harsh conditions of his upbringing. He grew fast and tall. The child always seemed distant, but not unobservant or distracted. Shoanti children must grow up fast, more so when they have no walls and only a small clan to protect them. He learned to fight in the manner of his people with mighty earth breaker and klar, though the giant lizards from which the skulls klar’s are made of are not native to the northeastern Broken Lands, so he sufficed with simple, spiked wooden shields.

The clan had wandered over much of the Broken Lands, trying to eek out a living in areas either too hostile for soft peoples or to barren to support larger groups, never staying in one place for more than a few weeks. Around Wrathadorand’s twelfth year, Atsila guided the group less and less further afield, slowly spiraling towards Nerosyan, the city stationed where Mendev, Numeria, and the cursed Worldwound meet. Not all members of the clan were happy with staying in such proximity to a civilized city, but to Wrathadorand it felt right – not that a boy had any say in the movements of the clan. The shaman felt sprits calling them deeper into the Worldwound. Wrathadorand felt the call as well.
After gathering supplies in Nerosyan, the Uleyov Shadde-Quah began the dangerous trek up the West Sellen River on the boarder of Mendev and the Worldwound towards Kenabres. After three days and as many attacks by small groups of weak demons, much of the clan put their collective foot down. Most had no desire to head in this direction to begin with, and what could be gained from battling demons? Was their life not hard enough as it was? Their respect for their shamanic leader would only take them so far and after much debate, Atsila relented and agreed to return them to more hospitable lands, at least by their standards. They made camp for the night but would not have a chance to return from whence they came. An alarm was raised late that night when the watchman, Eharee, was found dead, gruesomely torn apart by the mighty claws of an unknown creature. Wrathadorand and a newborn girl were nowhere to be found. The clan’s hunters quickly found a trail leading deeper into the demon’s land, and they gathered their arms and set off to rescue the two missing children.
Wrathadorand does not remember much of what happened when he was taken, at least that is what he claims. He and the infant were spirited away into the dark lands, carried on the backs of some kind of corrupt, elephantine creature, surrounded by a mob of cultists in dark robes and masks carved from bone. Wrathadorand and the infant were bound to a desecrated altar on the floor of a crater, and the ritual began.

Chanting and dancing. Strange smelling incense. Pain. Fear. Standing by the head of the alter, a cloaked being sang, a mighty hammer in its hands. Lit braziers spaced around the floor of the crater cast awful shadows across anything Wrathadorand could see. He could hear his cousin screaming and feel her wriggling on the alter next to him. Suddenly, all was silent. The thing at the head of the alter raised its hammer, spoke a single, unknown word, and brought it down with all its might, intent on crushing the helpless boy’s skull. There was a deafening peal of shattering crystal and a flash of blinding light. His ears ringing, the only thing the boy could see was the afterimage burned into his vision of whatever had made the flash of light: a naked humanoid form with five asymmetrical wings. He lay there in the dark and silence for some time, wondering if he was dead. Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the darkness and the stars overhead showed themselves one by one, starting with the brightest. His cousins wriggling woke him from his stupor and he sat and looked at what fate had befallen their captors.

The crater was dark, the braziers extinguished. All around him, where there had been men or orcs or whatever race they were, were only piles of ash. The hammer meant to destroy him was twisted and melted, they great head of it reduced to little more than worthless slag. Despite everything, he was no longer afraid. A clean, white heat burned in his heart, perhaps a gift from whoever had saved them. With uncanny ease, he broke through his bonds and gathered up his cousin. He left the alter, walking through the ash towards the purpling sky that promised sunrise.

As dawn broke, Wrathadorand crested the lip of the crater with his infant cousin in his arms and fire stolen from the gods. The loss of Eharee in the night raid was great, but the clan saw the children’s survival as a sign that they were indeed meant to be there, and they abandoned their plan to return to the south and continued northeast along the river to Kenabres.

The feeling of the pure flame burning within him never left, the five-winged being he had seen haunting his dreams. Despite the harrowing brush with death, Wrathadorand was not weaker for the experience. Not only was he sound of mind and body, but the gods had also blessed him with divine powers, creating a fearsome warrior. Atsila did not know who the winged being was or what divine might have sent it, but the answer to the mystery revealed itself the day before their arrival in Kenabres. A small group of knights and paladins all the way from Andoran came upon the clan as they were setting up camp. Wrathadorand instantly recognized the holy symbol emblazoned on their armor: a bastard sword with five wings of flame. When he told them his tale and all he had seen, they too recognized the work of their own Empyreal lord, Ragathiel.

Both the knights and the Uleyov Shadde-Quah were welcomed into the city, as most capable of fighting were. Wrathadorand pledged to join the paladins of Ragathiel and, once he was grown, he did so. Eschewing the simple traditional weapons and armor of his people, Wrathadorand adopted the plate armor and elegant swords of the knights of Ragathiel. They trained him as a solider and taught him to master his new divine powers. Bolstered by courage from a belief that lord Ragathiel would always guide him, Wrathadorand rushed headfirst into the defense of Golarian against the invading demons.

Wrath out of armor.
Wrath in armor.
Height: 6'5" | Weight: 230 lbs. | Hair: Bald; black beard with silver streaks | Eyes: Gold
Wrathadorand is a tall, sturdily built human of shoanti descent. He keeps his head shaved bald and has a thick, well-manicured beard of straight, black hair. Two fresh scars run diagonally across his left brow and cheek - a souvenir of his most recent battle with demons in the worldwound. His other facial features are chiseled and stoic, stress wrinkles making him look older than he is. His most striking feature are his golden eyes, god's eyes, some say.
Since coming to Kenabres, Wrathadorand most always wears his heavy plate armor when he is out and about in town and he always carries his deities sacred weapon, a cold iron bastard sword. In town he wears a blue tabard trimmed in gold with five-winged lion heraldry emblazoned on the chest. When he leaves the relative safety of the city walls, he switches his blue tabard for an identical one that is red trimmed in black. It is easier to clean demon blood off red and black fabric, after all.

Wrathadorand could accurately be described as inflexible and unimaginative, both in posture and personality. Dutybound, he always stands straight at tall. Unwilling to compromise, he remains an immovable obelisk in conversation and on the battlefield. One might call him arrogant or prideful, and some have. He is a loyal and honorable soldier, driven and – in his own way - passionate, but his disinterest in anything not related to slaying demons can leave him seeming aloof. He prefers the company of children over adults.

Wrathadorand is inflexible, unimaginative, and ironbound by law, duty, and honor. He believes everyone has their place in the fight against the demons, and that everyone should stay in their place to affect a smoothly operating war machine. He believes that just Law cannot be wrong, nor should it be questioned and that those who violate the law should be punished as the law dictates, and not be offered any sort of deal or bargain for reduced sentencing.

Aiyana: Human female shaman. Wrathadorand’s wife. They were betrothed since infancy in the manner of their clan and, even though they were living in the city and no longer nomads when the time for marriage came, they wed, fulfilling their duty to their clan. Aiyana is a shaman, using ancestral magics to bolster troops. Aiyana is the opposite of her husband in many ways, short and slight of build, quick-tempered and nontraditional.

Ahiga: Human male, 14 years old. Aiyana and Wrathadorand’s son. On the cusp of adulthood, he is eager to join his clan in the fight against the demons. A squire, training to become a knight. Takes after his father.

Alona and Wildcat: Human females, 12 years old. Aiyana and Wrathadorand’s twin daughters. Too young to directly join in the fight against demons, they help out around the city

The Lionguard: Worshipers of Ragathiel, they came to Kenabres some sixteen years ago to join the fight against the demonspawn pouring from the Worldwound. Most members are paladins, clerics, or inquisitors. Denoted by leonine heraldry, they are a small group of fearsome warriors. Led by Mlyssa Rose, an aasimar paladin.

Uleyov Shadde-Quah: Wrathadorand’s clan. They left the Storval plateau before Wrathadorand’s birth and have been wandering deserts and badlands, searching for something known only to Atsila.

Atsila: Half-orc male, shaman. The leader of the Uleyov Shadde-Quah. Blind, has a strong connection to ancestral spirits. Is seeking something, but no one knows what it is.

Alignment: Any

Skills: Choose 2 of the following skills as class skills. If a skill you select is already a class skill, you receive a +1 competence bonus on checks using that skill.

Climb, Handle Animal, Intimidate, Ride, Swim

Paladin Starting Money: 3d4 x 10 gp
Soldier Starting Money: 3d4 x 10 gp

TYPE
Humanoid (human) 0 rp

SIZE
Medium 0 rp

BASE SPEED
Normal 0 rp

ABILITY SCORE MODIFIERS
Human heritage 0 rp

LANGUAGES
Linguist 1 rp

OTHER
Flexible bonus feat 4 rp

Skilled 4 rp

At-will SLA (Divine Favor) 2 rp

At-will SLA (Holy Javelin) 4 rp

Fast 1 rp

TOTAL: 16 RP