Zander Orlovsky's page

Hushed stories are told amongst the servants and guardsmen of House Orlovsky about the boy who was to be heir to his father's title and the tragic fate that befell him, but few know the real tale. It is common knowledge that the Orlovskys of Brevoy once had a son by the name of Zander. A happy child, Zander was everything a young noble should be. Handsome, athletic, polite; he was the pride of his house and would one day be Lord.

Until the fire.

No one knows how it started, but one evening a great blaze caught in a small village on his family's lands. Zander, a youth of 14 years at the time, was on a hunting expedition with his father and saw the inferno on the horizon. At the boy's insistence, his father turned the hunting party towards the village to investigate. When they arrived, half the town was already ablaze and the crowd was in a panic. Lord Orlovsky attempted to marshall a water brigade, but it was no use. Zander looked on in horror as men burned to death before him and there was nothing he could do. Suddenly, he heard a scream from a nearby Inn and spotted a little girl in an upper story window. Without a second thought, Zander broke away from his father's men and ran into the Inn to save the girl. The heat was intense and the flames licked at Zander's cloak as he ran up the stairs to the room with the window. He found the girl and made his way to escape, but on his way down, the stairs collapsed and he fell onto a broken off plank that impaled his leg. Having taken the force of the fall himself, he stood the girl up and instructed her to run and get help. She fetched his father who was able to rush in and save his life, but not before the flames had their way with him. His face was charred unrecognizably on one side and heavily burned on the other as well and all men who saw his father exit the Inn with the boy in his arms thought him dead.

But he lived. Through some miracle, despite the horrible burns he had sustained, the boy survived. The Orlovsky family spent a fortune on the best healers in the lands to restore their son's face, but none were able to accomplish the task. He lay unconcious for weeks in his room while his parents decided what to do. Ultimately a grim decision was made that rather than let their son's hideous visage be shown in court, they would spirit the boy away to a monastery and give the public word that he had died in the fire.

And so it was. When Zander awoke from his long sleep, he found himself to be in an unfamiliar place and when he heard what had been decided for him and what he had become, he sunk into a deep depression. The years passed and he only grew more withdrawn. The hard work at the monastery toned his body and the books in the library sharpened his mind, but he was still miserable. When he was 18, he gathered up his meager posessions and ran away. The training his fathers' woodsmen had given him was still fresh in his mind and he lived off the land. What he needed to eat, he hunted. What he needed for shelter, he built. What supplies he did need, he traded for in villages and hamlets he passed through, always wearing a heavy cloak and a leather mask to conceal his face and always on the move. When he does speak with others, he is always to the point and only refers to himself as Zander, never letting on the secret of his heritage.

As Zander has travelled throughout the lands of Brevoy he has nurtured a great sympathy for the common people of the land. He sees them toil their lives away in the fields, forests, and mines only to have most of their earnings stolen away by the nobles' tax collectors. He sees them grow sick and die with no doctors to cure them and thinks back to the times growing up when his father's clerics would be called in to magically heal his scraped knees and bee stings. He sees the way that passing nobles treat them, like dogs or herd animals living for no purpose but to do their bidding. And he is disgusted. His feelings of betrayal at what his family did to him combined with what he has seen boil up inside of him and fuel his growing hatred of the ruling class. He lives on the fringe of society watching them and hating them, but does nothing.

One evening while Zander is passing by a tavern, he overhears a speech coming from inside that piques his interest. Cracking open the door, he listens as an old man speaks to the patrons about rising up against the opression and fighting back againt their rulers. He slowly slinks inside keeping his hood drawn and takes a seat near the back of the bar. The speaker goes on to tell of how the Goddess Milani supports their struggle and how they can overcome the noble class if they unite. When the man finishes his speech, Zander stands and begins clapping loudly, but soons realizes that the rest of the patrons are silent and disinterested in the speaker's words. Not used to being singled out, he quickly returns to his seat hoping his outburst didn't draw too much attention. As he sits silently nursing his drink and thinking to himself, he is interupted by a voice from above. "Well there sonny, it looks as if my words fell on deaf ears aside from you. May I join you?"

Not having been spoken to in months, Zander fumbled for his words, keeping his eyes on his drink, "Um, sure. Yes, that would be fine." Zander could hear the old man take a seat at table with him, but kept from making eye contact. Even with his mask, he had sent children crying to their parents just from spotting the twisted flesh exposed by the holes cut for his eyes.

"It seemed that you took an interest in my speech. Have you heard the call of Milani, son?" the old man asked.

"I.. I'm not familiar with Milani. But you did speak the truth. The way these people live.. what the nobles do to them.. it's.. it's disgusting!" punctuating his last word, Zander looked up into the old man's face and was momentarilly shocked to see milky white eyes looking back at him.

The blind man spoke, "Yes. Disgusting it is, but Milani teaches us that we must stand up and speak out to our brethren against our opressors, even if they have no interest in hearing what we have to say." he finished with a chuckle.

The old man introduced himself as Lorek, an oracle of Milani, and they talked late into the night. The next day they set out on the road together as traveling companions. They traveled across the land, Lorek preaching the word of Milani and doing his best to stir the people to action and Zander watching from the sidelines taking in everything Lorek said like a sponge to water. As the years passed, their following grew and soon several men followed Lorek and joined him in speaking out against their opressors. Zander always kept a distance from his new companions and they from him. He trusted only Lorek and could only be sure the old man wouldn't betray him because he couldn't see him, couldn't be repulsed by him.

One night as Zander was standing guard in their camp, sitting on a log and sharpening an arrow, Lorek approached and sat down next to him. The old man stared off into the night for a time and then began to speak. "Zander my boy, I've been keeping something from you." The hairs on the back of Zander's neck shot up and he turned to Lorek as the oracle continued to speak, "Three months ago I was delivered a vision in the night. I saw you, many years from now. You were a father of a kingdom. You and a handful of others had founded a nation. A nation where all men and women were equals and were united for the common good."

Zander began to laugh, "You must have had too much to drink that night old man! Me, the founder a kingdom? Perhaps Milani was playing a prank with your mind!"

Zander's laughter was cut short by a bonk on his head by the old man's walking stick. "You'd do well to listen to what I have to say! This was a true vision from The Everbloom herself and I acted on it."

"You did what?!" Zander asked, rubbing the growing bump on his head.

"I acted. I had heard rumors some time ago of unsettled lands to the south and it would seem that the Swordlords are chartering groups of adventurous souls to settle them. With a bit of work, we were able to get your name on the list and I have procured for you a charter to begin exploration of the lands south of here." said Lorek as he passed a rolled sheet of parchmet to Zander, who could only look on too shocked to speak. "I have gathered some provisions for you and you set out tomorrow morning. I am told that you are to meet up with another group of adventurers on the road south who share your mission. You must do this Zander. I know it is difficult for you to trust others, but you must. It is your destiny."

Zander was still speachless and could do nothing more than stare at the charter he held in his hands bearing the offical seal of the Swordlords of Restov. The next morning he said his goodbyes to Lorek and set out on the road, headed to the place on his map where Lorek had instructed him to meet up with the other adventurers heading south. As he travelled his mind raced thinking about Lorek's vision, Milani's teachings, and the path that had led him here. Most of all he thought of the people he was to be traveling with and what they would be like. He hoped they were all blind, and then laughed at the absurdity of the thought and smiled.

Zander is 5'9" and weighs 180 pounds. What hair still grows on his charred head, he shaves away. He wears a leather mask over his face whenever anyone else is around and nearly no one has seen beneath it since he left the monastery. The left side of his face is the worst, having suffered the brunt of the flames and is horribly deformed. The right side of his face is more lightly scarred, but still shows evidence of the fire. He wears a chain shirt and a heavy dark cloak with the hood frequently up. He is 22 years old.

Zander is generally bitter about what was done to him and untrusting of others, especially those of noble background. He makes friends slowly, but if he can come to trust someone, he will back them through anything and be unwaveringly loyal. Typically serious and to the point, he can lighten up if the right mood hits him and the people are around.

01: point blank shot, precise shot, rapid shot
02: hawkeye I, weapon focus (longbow)
03: trick shot (disarm), deadly aim
04: weapon specialization (longbow), dex +1
05: expert archer I, iron will
06: hawkeye II, manyshot
07: trick shot (sunder), improved iron will
08: greater weapon focus (longbow), dex +1
09: expert archer II, safe shot, improved critical (longbow)
10: hawkeye III, dodge
11: trick shot (trip), improved precise shot
12: greater weapon specialization (longbow), dex +1
13: expert archer III, evasive archer, penetrating strike
14: hawkeye IV, toughness
15: trick shot (bull rush), far shot
16: greater penetrating strike, dex +1