"Guy met many friends on his travels, and some even had the right metal to join his quest to find Aroden. Deo was another founding member of the Archknights. A barbarian of great renown hailing from the Storval Plateau, Deo made a name for himself among the northern nomads of Varisia. He cut his teeth in battle against Shoanti tribesmen and the Orcs of the Hold of Belkzen as a young man. He grew to over seven feet tall as he reached his maturity and swung a specially made axe that was said to be wider than most men, and too heavy for most to lift let along swing.
Clar, a fleet-of-foot Halfling, was the band's infiltrator, sneak, and purveyor of necessary goods when the situation called for it. He wasn't the nicest member of the knights, having grown up on the mean streets of Westcrown. Orphaned by a Pathfinder father who was never around and when his mother grew ill and died, he was born in the shadows and learned to use it as a cloak. Recognizable by a milky eye, this Halfling may have been small but his loyalty to the Archknights loomed as large as his best friend Deo.
Another member that exuded class was the group's battle caster, Vivreal. A fugitive on the run from the Maurya-Rahm in Jalmeray, this exotic beauty found a family among the Knights that was infectious and inclusive. She added a touch of grace to balance out the Knights' wilder members. Said to summon arcane energy weapons in battle and cast spells between swings, she wasn't one to sit back and let the men do the heavy lifting. She broke many hearts, but never stole any. Some thought she left a lover behind on that southern Isle and held out hope of seeing them again some day.
A non-traditional Knight by any standard, Beloq-Nur was a bowman with few peers. Tortured as a captive of a sadistic orc war band on the outskirts between Belkin and Lastwall, this man was covered in burn scars head to toe. He didn't like what he saw in the eyes of onlookers, so he most often kept to himself. But the party always knew he was around in a pinch because their enemies began to sprout arrows at an alarming rate.
The chronicler of this tale also happens to be an Archknight of Avistan from the cosmopolitan streets of Absalom. I am Ashwyn Blackstrand, greatest Magi of the age, or so I hope to be for Serenrea's sake. My friends call me Ash, and my enemies will tell you I do not exist. Some will say the Archknights are myth, but do not be deceived. We are out there, searching for Aroden still. As Guy would say, we seek the god that gave a damn. Look for us on the path to knowledge and glory. We will be there, carrying light into the darkness..."
This page was last edited on 21 November 2018, at 03:39.
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