Name: Roland Mawbray
Race: Human
Archetype: Paladin
Dark Shadow: Reincarnated
Gender: Male
Age: 23

Provide me with more detailed information on the following:

Appearance:

Personality: At least a paragraph.

Backstory: Roland has traveled on this earth for more years than one might assume. He was born into a knightly family of the Mawbray, a family of well-known of vampire slayers, undead killers and the defenders of the innocents. The family gathered a great library of knowledge on the undead, and thus became renowned for their knowledge - but then, they were accused of witchcraft.

Strengths/Weaknesses: Provide me with three of each

Aspirational Powers/Abilities: These can be anything you can think of - however I'm thinking along the lines of abilities such as Pick Lock, Remove Traps as a Rogue, or spells for a Wizard or Cleric you would like to gain during the course of the game. Be as creative as you like. I'm looking for a list of ten such powers from you and you will gain these abilities at certain story milestones throughout the game.

Name: Sir Florian of The Order of St Victoria
Race: Human
Archetype: Paladin
Dark Shadow: Redeemed
Gender: Male
Age: 28

Provide me with more detailed information on the following:

Appearance:

The wintry lands of the north breed their sons tall and pale. A long faced man with chestnut, hair cut short to fit under his helmet. His dark blue eyes are often downcast and have an almost constant air of weariness about them, often staring off as if their owner were lost in thought. Any time Florian is moved to smile it's a sad thing that never reaches his eyes.

When going to battle he wears multiple layers of armour. A padded jacket under a leather jerkin, under a shirt of chainmail under a set of light plate. His outer suit of armour is made of smaller, thinner plates to allow for easier movement when out on the road, he prepared for a long trip after all, and accepted that he may have to live in that armour for days at a time.

Like all sanctified knights of the saints he wears red and white tabarding around his armour. He wasn't keen on the idea of wearing a cape at first but the senior knights insisted on it if he was going to go out into the world representing their order. These days he'd have to admit to feeling rather dashing with it on.

Beneath the armour Florian's back and shoulders are laced with scars from when he scourged himself during the darker years of his spiritual journey.

Personality: When fully armed and in battle Florian becomes emboldened by faith and the concept of being a part of something greater than himself. Outside of it his posture worsens, seeing him shrink away, becoming almost shy. Half the reason for that is because of all the time he spent shut away from the greater world at the monastery. The other half is because he fears falling into his old ways or disturbing the darker parts of his mind that he's yet to purge, and the easiest way to defend against this is to push others away with the guise of a stern and distant knight.

At his core Florian is a mixture of kindness fueled by self loathing and guilt. He's faced down the sins of his past and the darkness that fueled his actions, seeing the pain he brought down on those unfortunate enough to cross his path and truly empathises with their pain. He mourns what he has done and sees the guilt that surrounds him as a hard lesson he needed to learn. It is something he wakes up with each day and drives him to greater heights of self sacrifice in the hope that come his day of judgment the saints will look upon his life and say he had repaid the debt he owed his mortal brethren.

Some may call it a double standard then that he shows such mercy to his foes and will take time to lecture wrong doers that show true repentance. Florian believes this is only fair. He doesn't care for things like social rank and gender, as far as he's concerned a knight of the temple stands separate from these things... and to not offer others the same chance he was given would be an act of abject hypocrisy.

Backstory: The Red Wolves of Frostfall were a terror in their time! A bandit gang of such infamy that mothers in the northern provinces would use their name to threaten their children into behaving, that drunks would use them as a curse. "The Wolves take you!" Always seeming to appear out of nowhere before reaping a bloody bounty and disappearing into the forests. This pack of brigands became far more successful than scum like them had any right to be, and at the pack's head were the Bejic brothers.

Between them Florian and his younger brother, Casimir, carved out an unspoken realm for themselves. With their leadership the gang became the bane of every travelling merchant, tax collector and unfortunate soul that passed through the Frostfall mountains. Even when bounty hunters or the musterings of local lords tried to smoke them out The Red Wolves rose to the challenge. Fighting with every dirty trick their winter forest could offer them, hunting, trapping, and coming down on their prey with wild abandon. It was days like that which truly got Florian's blood up, the rare time someone could offer him a challenge. When it was done they always made sure to make a bloody example of them. Over the years the sight of mutilated bodies nailed to the trees at the forest edge became a horrifically regular thing in Frostfall.

All that would change they day The Red Wolves met a red knight. Some old bear in plate armour thought he had a chance taking them on alone in the wilderness, it was laughable. He ran them a merry chase through the woods (and even managed to kill Sergei but no one liked him anyway) before The Red wolves cornered him at a cliff edge. With nowhere left to turn the old knight pleaded that he be allowed to die with a knight's honour in fair combat. Florian was still riding high from the chase and baying for blood so much that against his brother's advice he accepted and stepped into the open and squared off against his armoured foe.

It didn't go well. The Frostfall mountains are temperamental things and the harsh clash of metal between Florian and the red knight loosened the snow under them and the weight of plate armour and adult bodies being knocked to the ground did the rest. The ground gave way and the two were sent crashing down to the lowlands below. Maybe it was the snow or the trees that helped break their fall but somehow the two survived. Though thanks to his lack of armour Florian found himself a lot more battered and bruised. When consciousness came back to him he was certain he'd broken a leg and probably some ribs. Thanking the cold for numbing him against the pain he cursed his luck that the knight survived, then thanked it because to his chagrin it took both of them to dig their way out of the ditch of snow they'd been buried in. It was a harsh task but a bandit had to be a pragmatist and Florian at least managed to hang onto consciousness until they were out. Then as everything went back he had to resign himself to the hangman's noose unless Casimir could find him first.

When he awoke it was in stone room and in a warm and comfy bed. With that damn knight looking over him!

He introduced himself as Sir Erik and went on to set his terms. "You put me in an awkward situation. By the honour you showed me earlier I cannot execute you where you lie... but knowing what you are I cannot let you leave."

So they haggled terms. Florian would be kept in the monastery until he recovered and once he was ready he would be given the chance to duel Erik again. If he won the bandit would go free, if he lost he would have to wait at least seven days until he could challenge the knight again. Time passed and when the fight came Florian lost... he lost a lot, so many times he lost count! Without the edge of the forest terrain to call on and slow the old knight down Florian found himself getting his arse kicked in a fair fight! What's worse during his sown time they put him to work! Tending a garden in the temple grounds, helping bandage and tend to sickly pilgrims that passed through and they wouldn't shut up about their saints and holy texts! Florian being what he was could never resist rising to the challenge, engaging the monks and knights in both verbal and physical contests.

This lasted through the winter, a long time in the northern provinces. Over time the old bear and his scraggly band of scholars had grown on him. In his attempts to best Sir Erik Florian had even gone about teaching himself how to move in those heavy suites of armour and how to use a shield properly in a fight. And just so he could beat them talk as fancy as they did he got down to reading those holy texts of theirs (there wasn't much else to read) and set himself to learning how to debate like a monk. He never got the hang of strong debate but the books did have some good stuff in there. And over time envy and competition turned to admiration and understanding of each other.

Until the day came that Florian won his duel with Erik... and asked if he could stay. Years passed and Florian was knighted as a paladin of the saints, proving himself worthy in heart and mind. In the end he chose to head south, thinking it better to avoid the complication of returning to his old hunting ground and the chance of finding his old gang again. Besides, the southern lands had suffered a resurgence of the undead menace, just the place where a freshly anointed paladin could put himself to good use.

It was a few years later and Florian returned to the chapter house that started his journey, happy to spend some peaceful time in the mountains after battling skeletons and wights. It was while he was catching up on the passing events in Frostfall that he learned that The Red Wolves had been scattered and their remaining leader, Casimir Bejic had fled and was presumed dead in the ravaged lands of Ravenloft. It took seconds for Florian to decide to go after him.

He had to confront his own cowardice, knowing that saving himself had meant abandoning his kin. He owed it to his little brother to try and save him, regardless of how their paths had diverged. To make right another of his wrongs, and if he could to save Casamir's soul along with his life.

Strengths: Steel endurance - A life surviving in the harsh forest mountains then compounded by knightly training and conditioning has forged Florian's body into a thing that refuses to give in as if defience was a muscle memory. He may not be able to swing his sword as hard as other warriors but he can take twice as many hits as most foes before even staggering and has spent so long on the road in plate armour it feels like a second skin.

Power of faith - Those who channel their faith in the pantheon of saints and strive to follow their example to the extent their priests and paladins do are able to call on the power of their ascended mortal gods and channel it through themselves. So far Florian is only able to call on the most simple of prayer spells, on technique often called "Lay on hands". The paladins hands glow with divine light and warmth that somehow manages to heal the afflictions of the living and harm the undead and evil.

Scholar of the occult - Knight's of Saint Victoria are called upon to defend the mortal realm from the threat of the undead and the infernal. When Florian was a 'guest' of the order he read their texts to pass the time, when he was initiated he was made to research the order's practical texts so that when the day came he would be ready to face their ancient foe. This gives him a scholar's basic knowledge of necromancy and demonology, specifically how to counter its creations.

Weaknesses: Code of the paladin - Florian is sworn to a holy oath and with that comes a code of conduct and a long list of things he cannot do. This includes lying, breaking the laws of the land he is in and anything that might not be thought of as "Lawful" or "Good". Such is his pact with his saints.

The bandit life is gone - It took a long time for Florian to get the hang of moving around in heavy armour and using a big shield. That time spent training, along with his code of honour and fair play has seen him leave his old bandit ways behind. No longer can he silently sneak up on a target or step so light as to not leave tracks. In fact all his skills of stealthcraft have been left to rust.

Self sacrificing - A rigid code of ethics and a rampant guilt complex can drive a person to do great things. Few of them having much to do with self preservation. It is the place of a paladin to dive in the way of their friends and the killing blow, it's their duty to lower their guard and give the person who just tried to kill them a chance to hand themselves in peacefully. It isn't great for their health.

Aspirational Powers/Abilities: Aegis - Florian's skill with a shield and defensive fighting are honed to a new height as he stands against stronger attacks and turns enemy blades away in an expert manner.

Holy smite - It lasts for only a moment but a paladin when driven to righteous fury may summon a blast of power into themselves, striking outwards to scorch beings of darkness.

Bless weapon - The paladin says a prayer over a weapon, imbuing it with the power of pure faith.

Touch of grace - The paladin lays their hands upon an ally and takes their suffering upon themselves.

Detect evil - It isn't just that Florian can be cynical, or a matter of reading people. This is the ethereal wisdom of the saints, as if he can sense it, feel the dark intent and hatred of another.

Warding circle - Florian traces his hand in a circle on the ground, summoning a circle of glowing runs that expands to protect those within from dark magics.

St Victoria: The primary saint and namesake of the order. A young girl who set out to change her world and the fate of her people. She went of a lifetime of adventures and pilgrimages, forming a party of companions around her and becoming a legend in her lifetime. Victoria's journey ended in her martyrdom and ascension to divinity. Her worshipers revere her as a god though never refer to her as one. She is not a patron to any particular aspects but rather represents all things that one should strive to be.

St Herbert: Also known as 'Our man, Herb' The patron saint of the every-man and the law bringer. Herb was a bandit when he first met Victoria. He lived in the wilderness and fed off what he took from others. Then he chose the future saint as his next target and soundly thrashed. left humbled before her, Herb begged her forgiveness and for Victoria to teach him how to be as strong as she was. He was the first to join her and became Victoria's loyal shield in their travels. After her death Herbert went on to become a lawmaker and dedicated his life to bringing order and peace. He was killed in a bandit raid, it is said that when his body was found he had a look of true serenity on his face.
(When Florian discovered this story he confronted Sir Erik with it and the similarities between the two of them. The old knight smiled and said, "Sometimes the lady moves in mysterious way, other times providence knocks a man over the head, and only a fool ignores that." Needless to say Florian takes a strong amount of comfort and guidance from the tales of St. Herbert.)

St Virgil: The patron saint of healers and the downtrodden. Virgil spent her early life as the indentured servant of a mage, forced to serve her masters darkest desires. When Victoria came to their city she quickly fell on the bad side of their magic wielding overlords and was gravely wounded in battle. Virgil helped smuggle her to safety and helped nurse Victoria's wounds. When the fiery adventurer recovered she faced the mage once more and struck them down from their tower. Virgil had her freedom and left with Victoria to see the world and find her own path in life. After Victoria's death Virgil became a doctor and founded her own hospital. She would later die of a fever, one no doubt gained from one of the many patients she refused to turn aside. Before she dies Virgil's nurse heard her speaking from her deathbed in the other room and the story says that a second female voice was heard, yet when the nurse rushed in no one else was found. Virgil had died with a peaceful smile on her face and a single tear down her cheek.

St Nash: The patron saint of Scholars and the ambitious. A sickly, half crippled boy. Nash followed Victoria in the same way as many witnesses to her work did. But unlike them his pilgrimage did not end when she left his city. So enamored of her and her exploits was he that Nash trailed after Victoria and her companions well into the wilderness where a child as weak as him could not survive. Seeing no other option, Victoria took him in. It was now then that she learned that Nash's true strength lay in his mind. He was an educated boy from a well off family but had been cast aside because of his frailty and had spent his day reading and learning all he could. Nash begged Victoria to make him a knight and a warrior like she was. Nash accompanied Victoria on her travels from that day on, acting as her sage council as he saw the world through the eyes of both a scholar and an innocent. He even taught the common born woman to read and write. After Victoria's death Nash went on to embrace his true passions, travel and literature. He would travel the world acting as a teacher and helping to set up libraries where he went, he was also the first of the companion saints to write their piece of the holy tome. He would come to settle in the dwarven city of Kaz Arak where he would be lost in a landslide, his body never found.

St Salem: Patron saint of warriors and the lost. A giant of a man, born to the gladiator pits of the southern isles. When Victoria came through to his part of the world she brought rebellion and broken chains, striking down the slave masters. Salem swore himself to her the day she freed him and became her sword. Victoria and the others tried to help Salem find a new path in life, one beyond the violence he had always known, but his life of slavery had left scars upon his heart. Salem saw the world as a place of darkness, void of forgiveness and understanding and something to be avenged upon. When Victoria died Salem was left heartbroken. He fell back into his old ways, of a blood hungry animal, seeking an opponent that could grant him death in battle. He never found one. Eventually, by the time he was old and no longer able to fight with a sword, he came across a coastal village like the home Victoria always spoke of. His reputation and the stories he shared of his time on the road with Victoria spread and drew young knights and warriors to him who would later form the founding members of the order. But Salem would never see this. He would be the only saint to die a peaceful death, surrounded by friends and family. Finding in his final days the peace that had eluded him all his life. It's said that with his last breath he called out to Victoria, reaching out to a corner of the room where no one stood. "I was a fool... I understand now."