__________________QUICK STATSName: His previous master gave him the name Hadrian, but he would accept anything a new master would choose.
Age: Hard to estimate. Probably numbers in hundreds, but his mortal life ended slightly over sixty, and his active service in his master's army lasted about a hundred.
Gender: Was male as a mortal, and it probably stayed that way.
Species: A skeleton reanimated by necromantic magic. The shape and size of his bones indicate that he was probably a human before death.
Ethnicity: As a mortal, he was a man of the tribes from the area of the modern Adela. Now he's a skeleton.
Height: 5'9
Occupation: Former minion
Residence: Vagrant with no permanent residence.
__________________IN-DEPTH STUFFPhysical Description: Well-preserved in the ice of Hyoite, Hadrian could easily make a living as an anatomy model of a human skeleton. His white bones bear the necromantic runes carved into them by his master's apprentices in order to strengthen them. He is held together mainly by magic, but also by catgut* in place of tendons. In order to disguise his true nature, he usually wears full heavy armour.
* A type of fiber used for instrument strings and futures. Not made out of cats (usually)
musicPersonality: As a proper minion should, Hadrian is - or rather, was - irrevocably loyal to his master. He has nothing but the greatest respect for him and his actions. Having now woken up in a greatly unfamiliar world, he is lost and his main priority is finding a new lord - or lady, or whatever title would they prefer - to serve. A lesser priority is not being burned at stake by people needlessly prejudiced against the undead.
Magic/Abilities - Hundred years of experience
- Mordecai fields have no effect on him. As Night's Hate has slain a goddess in his quest and took her power for himself, acts of his magic from this point onwards - including raising Hadrian - no longer qualified as mortal magic. Should Hadrian attempt to learn magic himself, his spells would still be nullified, but he wouldn't die just by Mordecai presence.
Relationships:History: Hadrian's first memory of undeath is being awakened in the ruins of a small village, called to serve a great necromancer Arawn Night's Hate. A more insightful mind would be able to put together the truth of his circumstances - clearly, his new master razed the town in order to gain more unwilling soldiers for his army. But Night's Hate saw no point in raising men who would fault him for their death, so he didn't bother binding their mortal memories back to their bodies. Hadrian and his fellow undead were all blank slates, clay to be molded into whatever their new master desired.
What he desired was an army. Arawn, like many storybook villains, was after conquest - the only challenge worthy of someone wielding such power. He commanded his armies with ruthless utility and a spark of brilliance. Whatever losses he sustained, he made up for by not only commanding his fallen enemies, but also raising both his own dead again, over and over until the repair of their broken bodies was too costly. He could afford to throw countless troops at his foes - troops that could not be truly defeated, just temporarily stopped.
Bored of this mindless calculus, Arawn sought to sharpen his mind by exploring different possibilities with his soldiers. The legion Hadrian belonged to has long since lost the last shred of rotting flesh, leaving only the bare bones animated by the will of their master. As it made them rather vulnerable to weaponry, they were given heavy armour taken from enemy knights to protect them. They soon became the backbone of his troops, the stable core of his army.
Hadrian developed sentience and personality later during Night's Hate's campaign to conquer Le'raana. At this point, the army has grown so large, not even Arawn's impressive intellect could command it alone, so he resolved to enchanting his soldiers with at least the basics of independence - and, of course, unshakeable loyalty. Hadrian in particular grew to admire his master's scope and keen tactical sense.
He served Night's Hate faithfully until one fateful day. A particular thorn in Arawn's side, a weathermancer of considerable power bearing the title of Roargale, has been consolidating her power in preparations to face him. A span of water kept her fortress from the undead armies, and she burned all the ports nearby to slow her enemy's approach.
Of course, water isn't such a great obstacle for the undead. Unwilling to wait, Night's Hate sent his armies on a slow march towards his foe. Skeletons walked on the bottom of the sea, protected from the crushing pressure by their master's power, wraiths and ghosts flew undaunted towards their target, some entrepreneurial vampires bound a few zombies buoyant with their gases into a makeshift raft, and their voyage across began.
Roargale waited until her seers informed her that the entirety of Arawn's armies was straight in the middle of the sea, before casting a spell to finish a ritual prepared for this singular purpose. Her effort changed the climate in a flash, freezing the entirety of the sea and trapping almost the whole army Night's Hate amassed.
Her stratagem was very effective in slowing his march towards world conquest. Night's Hate was forced to waste time freeing his troops from their icy shackles. In the end, he decided against combing the massive glacier for every single undead, and just abandoned the rest, confident in his ability to raise more soldiers, should he need them. Hadrian was among those unfortunate souls that were left behind.
Hadrian remained trapped in the ice for longer than his mind could count. Countless centuries passed as the new glacier slowly moved. Finally, it traveled far enough to free the unlucky minion. The spells securing his existence were good enough to keep him alive, no matter what happened to the one who cast them.
Even though Hadrian couldn't tell how long he spent trapped in the glacier, he had enough sense to realize that the world he knew was long gone. So much time had passed, it would be probably impossible for him to find out anything about the past. Even if Night's Hate had succeeded at conquering the world, by now only the most devoted historians would be able to find traces of his great empire - and research was not what Hadrian was raised and trained for.
He had some time to consider his lack of direction and what to do in this new world. As he wandered around, he found a well-preserved corpse of a knight about his size, who probably died to exposure, hunger, or other environmental hazards of Hyoite. Hadrian took his armour in order to disguise himself, just in case of unjustified prejudice against the undead - being chased with torches and pitchforks wasn't something on his agenda.
He spent a few months creeping around the small towns in order to stare at people and listen. As he expected, the language has drastically changed and it took him a lot of time to learn enough to at least be able to talk to others. It also gave him plenty of opportunities to learn about this new world and consider his situation. To no small relief, he found out that the noble art of necromancy survived the test of time, and there were probably a lot of capable people who could use a minion - for that was what he decided to do with himself. It was better to stick to what he was familiar and comfortable with - and in his case, it was serving a capable master. His decision made, Hadrian left Hyoite, ready for this new world and whatever it brought.
Character Limitations: I would request the standard hands off approach - that the other players stick to describing what their characters do/attempt and leave it up to me to depict the outcome of their actions/Hadrian's response. Therefore, no moving him, no deciding whether any blows land etc. That doesn't apply to those who play his necromancer master - in this case, feel free to take complete control - you have the consent from both Hadrian and me.
__________________THREAD TRACKERCurrent Threads -
Night on the Town with
NepaketComplete Threads
