Magnus Postremus

Magnus comes from the Darklands, deep below the surface of Azurhia. He was raised as a Tresholder, a guard in charge of the city borders. And he was damn good at it, although training was only part of the reason for his success. He is also gifted (or cursed, depending on the point of view) with incredible luck. It was, at first, a gift, but he quickly resented it, as he felt it shadowed his accomplishments, making them feel unearned. He worked twice as hard to make sure he deserved each promotion or compliment he received. It worked, until something came out of the Sea, the name that his people gave to an enormous bottomless pit not far from the city. The creature was unlike anything they had ever seen, a sheer force of destruction that destroyed everything and everyone in mere hours. Well... almost everyone. Through sheer luck, once more, Magnus was the sole survivor of his people. The creature went back to the Abyss, leaving Magnus alone with the rubble and corpses. Having nothing and no one left, he departed, searching for a new purpose.

Coming to the surface took some time to adjust. The light, the colours, the variety of people and creatures were bright and harsh. Forests were brand new to him; most of the flora he had encountered in his life was cave mushrooms. But he adapted, and roamed. He kept mainly to himself, his pale white skin and deep red eyes tending to make people nervous and suspicious. His skill with arms however helped him to perform odd jobs, here and there, enough to survive, not enough to motivate him though. He started to hear rumours about a group of adventurers helping people in Circle Creek. The Gallant Horde they were called. That seemed worth checking out. He made his way to Circle Creek, gathering information as he progressed, and most of the stories seemed to confirm that he was going towards an interesting and worthy organisation, more than a mere group of adventurers. A whole guild it seems. A quick talk with Andaline was all that was needed to finish convincing him to join. He has a job now, a mission, and perhaps, in time, a purpose. He needs to prove his worth, and protect these people. Let's hope luck doesn't get in the way again.

Magnus is a duty oriented person, he lives for his mission, and wants to make sure he can either keep his people safe, or join them in the afterlife. The problem is that there is a difference between dying in battle and dying by accident. Which means that Magnus has two fears: the creature that killed his people, and random accidents. He is lucky enough to survive any battle, but is he lucky enough to avoid the coconuts falling on his head? The weirdly placed cobblestone that he could trip on? The lightning in the middle of the storm? He cannot afford to take any chances, therefore he is cautious. Maybe too cautious. He is so focused on being careful that he did not even think about taking on a hobby, and his lack of "fun" activities is becoming more and more apparent as he meets people in the Gallant Horde, bakers, cooks, singers, fortune tellers. He needs to find a hobby. A safe one, that is.