Contact: Discord, PM, Heartfelt Letter
Malcolm Rhodes
Race: Ghost Human
Class: Paladin of Esyrax - Knight Protector of the Galewatcher Family
Plot Hooks and Goals:
- Malcolm seeks to recover a battle standard that has been irrevocably destroyed
- Malcolm actively will endanger himself to protect those he sees as weaker or bullied
- Malcolm is distrustful of magic, but knows it can be wielded for good
- Malcolm seeks to continue serving Esyrax be encouraging strength, power, courage in himself and others
The summer day was cool and refreshing as it managed to sneak into small cracks of Malcolms polished heavy plate. Typhoon, his ever-loyal charger, whinnied as he caught the scent of some predators on the breeze. Malcolm grunted softly and stroked the horse's neck with his unarmored hand. His devotion to Esyrax, idol of strength and courage, required him to keep an exposed fist that he might meet his enemies or deliver his allies directly. Typhoon, veteran mount of the Galewatcher Knights and near a decade old, simply snorted softly and continued his plodding walk.
“Perhaps soon, old friend,” Malcolm said to his mount and companion. He had resisted the urge to call an early halt to the days travels for several hours now. As the most senior Knight Protector in the Galewatcher entourage, it was his privilege to call halt whenever he deemed it necessary. Unfortunately, it was also his duty to not waste the family’s time on frivolous frolicking when they had another week of travel ahead.
His company comprised four heavily armored men, two house servants, and the Galewatcher family charged with the expedition. Inside the armored carriage rode the patriarch, matriarch, oldest son, and only surviving uncle of the minor noble house. They had been called to Ajteire to complete a trading contract for the families upcoming wine crop and any remaining fruits not fit for processing. Malcolm knew all of this because it was his duty to know. He also knew the road to the jungle city was fraught with both natural and man wrought dangers.
Despite this, it still caught him by surprise when the first quarrel pinged off the plated wagon’s exterior. Malcolm reigned in Typhoon, the shout to arms in his lungs, when the torrent of a magical detonation blew the wagon apart. The Paladin of Esyrax, Knight Protector of the Galewatcher family, was flung to the dirt like a sack of bricks. He heard a whooshing sound like someone had cut a tent on a windy evening. Malcolm scrambled to his feet, reaching for his sword but finding it flung away.
The clearing was filled with burning wreckage. Amongst the carnage stood three bandits and two knights. A short distance away, there were three more bandits, one wrapped in a long flowing robe of reds and blacks. Malcolm roared, his vision going red with fury as he charged the mage. He was confident his men could dispatch the others, and the caster needed to pay for his attack on the Galewatcher family.
Before the Paladin could reach the caster, his own men turned and stuck him like a pig. Stabbing his frail form over and over, and shouting something Malcolm couldn’t hear over the rushing wind. Then the bandits sprinted past him, and Malcolm tried to give chase. He found his limbs moved like he was trapped beneath the sea. The rushing of wind grew stronger still as he saw there was nothing left of the family he had been charged to protect. The bandits scrabbled over the burning wreck like rats desperate for a morsel. In mere moments they had taken the surviving lockbox, several sacks, and the Galewatcher family battle standard.
Malcolm watched the bandits flee, his eyes burning with fury at the desecration and his own inability to stop it. Instinctively he began to wail, and the wind rose to meet his voice. It became deafening as he felt his body begin evaporating to mist. All that remained were his thoughts. 'I have to recover the battle standard. I have to tell the surviving family of this tragedy. I have to endure, as I have all my life. I am the spirit of Esyrax incarnate, put on this land to protect and defend the weak and helpless. I am the Knight Protector, and nothing as simple as death will stop me.'