[center][COLOR=b8b8b8][sub][h1][sub]Edrick Manard[/sub][/h1][/sub][/COLOR]

[img]https://specials-images.forbesimg.com/imageserve/5d502cb268cb0a00091696f3/960x0.jpg?fit=scale[/img]
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[center][COLOR=b8b8b8][sub][h1][sub]C H A R A C T E R   S U M M A R Y[/sub][/h1][/sub][/COLOR][/center]

[color=a8a8a8]
Edrick's personality matches his appearance, which matches his reputation prior to joining the Phoenix Order.  A large, ugly, often meanspirited man, he has tempered these character defects somewhat as the hard process of his training proceeded.  At 31 he is getting a rather late start.  He may blame it on his Proletarian upbringing but it is really his own doing, and having grown up and lived among the people for 31 years and having often run in to trouble with the Crimson Eye no one is falling for that.[/color]

[center][COLOR=b8b8b8][sub][h1][sub]A P P E A R A N C E[/sub][/h1][/sub][/COLOR][/center]

[color=a8a8a8]
Edrick is 6'1" with a muscular body built through years of helping his Blacksmith father in the only way he ever truly learned to; by doing the most basic backbreaking aspects of the work over and over again and with great enthusiasm.  His skin has darkened from long hours spent in the family shop and is marked here and there with small scars from his troublesome teenage years and his troublesome 20s.  His hair is cut short at the sides and longer on the top, with a rather ragged beard on his chin.  His most distinguishing feature is his nose, which healed poorly several times after being broken by one guard or another several times and generally for good cause.[/color]

[center][COLOR=b8b8b8][sub][h1][sub]P S Y C H O L O G Y[/sub][/h1][/sub][/COLOR][/center]

[color=a8a8a8]Edrick's personality has changed rather considerably during his time in the Phoenix Order.  He has not been able to completely shake his character flaws but finding a purpose and being held to a standard has change him.  He has always been impatient, hyperactive, and prone to making rash decisions without considering the potential consequences of his actions.  These flaws led him through a rather failed life prior to the Phoenix Order, but the training and punishment he received there tempered them.[/color]

[center][COLOR=b8b8b8][sub][h1][sub]E Q U I P M E N T[/sub][/h1][/sub][/COLOR][/center]

[color=a8a8a8][list]
[*]Heavy Plate
[*]Shield
[*]One Handed Mace
[*]Simple Hide Shoulder Bag on his Back holding a bed roll, a large skin of water, a simple knife with a holster, and about as much dried meat as he could afford.
[/list][/color]

[center][COLOR=b8b8b8][sub][h1][sub]H I S T O R Y[/sub][/h1][/sub][/COLOR][/center]

[color=a8a8a8]Although his Father was a talented craftsman and a patient teacher Edrick had never really taken to the family business.  For long years his Father had made the finest of weapons and equipment for the Crimson Eye and Phoenix Order and for long years he had showed Edrick each step in detail, but it never seemed to stick for him.  On the rare occasion Edrick managed to pay attention to the long rather meticulous process he would come to the conclusion that he most certainly gives not a fuck about it.  Edrick never enjoyed the detail work that separated a serviceable piece of equipment from an expertly crafted work of art.  Edrick took more to the simple brute force aspects of it.  Pounding metal ingots flat, heating them, folding again, pounding again, and then when the work was done he would take his pay and fine something or someone new to pound in one fashion or another.

From his mid-teens through his twenties Edrick lived in this way earning himself quite a reputation for better or worse, and mostly for the worse.  Between drinking, fighting, and womanizing he found himself in trouble with the Crimson Eye on a fairly regular basis.  Due to his contribution to his Father's business and his Father's businesses contribution to Bastion they generally took it easy on him.  After a spirited beating he would generally be left with little worse than a broken nose.  In time many of the Crimson Eye came to know him, some thinking of him disdainfully as an untouchable waste, others hoping he might turn his life around if only to carry on his Father's legacy and stop disgracing his name.

Not paying much attention to his Father's yammering on as he got deeper into the process of repairing a Ranger's sword one day a 30 year old Edrick was thinking only of a saucy red haired woman he had seen walking the streets.  She seemed to have a certain exotic look about her and Edrick intended to get a closer look at it.  Much closer.  Wondering to himself what he might say to her the next time he saw her he was caught by surprise, turning quickly in reaction to a startled scream from Father.  Thick smoke with a sheen to it had leapt up from the blade.  Across the shop their eyes met in horror, Edrick paused only a moment before beginning to walk toward his Father but it was long enough.

Crimson Eye in the market place had heard the shout and turned to see, and the Crimson Eye knew at once exactly what they had seen and exactly what it meant for the Blacksmith and his shop.  It had been his Father's poor luck that a bit of infected blood or flesh had been caught up in the metal.  Perhaps in the pitting about the pommel, perhaps in the filigree along the blade, whatever was caught and where ever it was caught as the blade heated up the flesh had flashed up and set it's vapors into the air.  Anyone in Bastion could tell you what must come next, it is inevitable.  As the Crimson Eye advanced toward the shop Edrick eyed his Father's hammer, but before he could move toward it he met the gaze of one of the Crimson Eyes.  He knew as plain as day, if he reached for the weapon they would surely be upon him.  From there it all happened with an impossible speed.  A brief apologetic look from his Father as he wiped the infected blood and smoke from his face, some brief indeterminate words from Crimson Eyes as they gathered about his Father, his Father dropping to his knees head held high, and then only blood and fire.

Before the embers of his Father and his Shop had died down Edrick found himself in a cell awaiting inspection.  While he awaited judgement some of the Crimson Eye came to speak to him, from a safe distance.  They offered him a new Shop and steady work, if he could carry on his Father's work.  He could not.  Not even close.  The days after they left and before he was cleared were long, but then he was set to be released.  Released into a world he had no real place in, his only marketable skill his ability to perform the simplest most monotonous and back breaking of labor.  When his release came some of the Crimson Eye who had slain his Father and burned his home came to meet him and shine some light on his position.  They told him what he already knew, that he had no future, and then they offered him one. 

As a final gift to his Father they would offer Edrick one last shot at a life worth living or a death worth dying.  He would get no favors if he chose to try out for the Phoenix Order, but they would see to it that he got a foot in the door.  As it turned out that foot in the door was all Edrick needed.  His mistakes were corrected violently, they spoke to him in a language he understood.  His successes were met with more and harder work to do.  Years of hard work had hardened him enough that he had made it this far through his Aegis training.  He took some hard hits as the days wore on, but he dealt some pretty hard hits out himself.  It wasn't pretty, but neither was he.[/color]