Pwenet's Character ListName:Pwenet Morgan
- Status: Alive and Well
- Race: Human
- Gender: Male
- Age: 25
- Height: 5'8"
- Weight: 180
- Physical Description: Pwenet is fairly muscular for his size. Has short black hair, with a face that still looks young except for a jagged scan starting at the top left of his forehead (the hair over the scar is white), over his left eye till it ends under the left side of his chin. Wears black leather eyepatch over the empty left eyesocket. Also is missing the last two fingers on his left hand, but his right hand has an extra, fully functional pinky finger.
- Hair: Black
- Eyes: Hazel
- Personality: General cool and collected, rarely resorts to anger.
- Worn Steel Shield
- Single-Handed Greatsword - A ancient family blade Lord Farhiem, whom Pwenet killed. It is made of a ancient mystical metal, the secrets of which have been lost to time. It is very light, yet durable and will never loose the lethal edge. With enough force it can slice through armor cleanly, let along flesh and bone.
- Crossbow & Quarrels
- Small Daggers
Typically wears a black cloak over light chainmail, with a white shirt and brown leather pants. Solid leather boots and chainmail gloves complete his clothing.
- History: Pwenet was born into a life that began and should have ended in a tiny village of a minor lord named Stag Folly. The name came from the lord having bought the land, told that there would be stags that would never run out, instead there were none to be seen. His mother and father was simple peasants, working the fields every day, yet taught Pwenet and his younger brother, Incom how to be good people and to enjoy a simple life.
As he grew up, Pwenet took up an interest in blacksmithing. While he was not very good, he was skilled enough to start performing minor repairs on various things and creating horseshoes. Yet his talents lay with weapons, for he would start practicing with various weapons that were to be repaired by the blacksmith of the town. He tried to get his younger brother, Incom interested as well, but Incom was choosing a life with the local clergy instead.
Until his seventeenth birthday, Pwenet lived this simple life, even knowing which girl he was to marry. However this was not to be, for the Lord of his land declared war against another lord, and a call to arms went out. By this point Pwenets father was too old and ill to go fighting, Incom was too young, so Pwenet went in by himself, saying a heartfelt farewell to the village and the girl of his dreams, before joining other young men to march to war as common footsoldiers.
Early on, he found his blacksmithing talents overshadowed by all the others, and was pushed towards the most menial of duties during the preparations for way. Growing unsettled for this, Pwenet started wishing for a change, which came during the first battle.
The traditions of the land was that the footsoldiers would fight, with knights serving as leaders and the focus of the enemy attack, with the knights being the ones taken captive, with the footsolders being put to the sword if they lost. If they won, the knights would receive all the glory, while the footsoldiers would only be happy to have lived yet another day. This is what Pwenet expected when he marched, clad only some simple peasant clothes and a rusty sword given to him from his former blacksmith master.
At the end of the bloody day, when the orange moon set, Pwenet was alive, his hand bleeding from the fingers that were sawed off, holding several deep wounds, standing over the corpse of the enemy knight Ser Gordan of Gideon, one of the toughest, meanest and biggest knights of the enemy, whom Pwenet killed in one on one battle. One of his lords knights, Ser Baron Darnie saw the fight, and ordered that Pwenets wounds be treated by the maesters. Thanks to their treatments, reserved only for knights and lords, Pwenet returned to health quickly, and was quickly pushed off towards the front lines.
Yet another battle, and another important knight slain in honorable combat. This trend continued, until Pwenet was known as the ďPeasant Knight-Slayer.Ē He didnít act any differently, he ate and slept with the common soldier, but yet his name was being whispered by various knights and minor lords, and rumor had it that he would be elevated to knighthood as thanks for his services.
Before what would be the final battle, with the warring lords command their armies on the plains between their lands, grave news reached his detachment. Stags Folly has been burnt by the enemy, who had managed to break through the lines and put the fields and village to the torch, leaving none alive. Despite several years having passed since he left, Pwenet had always expected to go back to his childhood home at the end of this war, and now it was rendered uninhabitable.
The next day brought a change in Pwenet, one that was noticed by those around him. Any enemy that got in his way was slain rapidly, as he killed and maimed his way towards the rear of the enemy lines, towards the figure responsible for the death of his family. In battle, chaos reigns, and even the hardened veteran canít say what happens exactly. Yet this is known, as the sun set, Pwenet was found surrounded by a circle of enemies, being toyed with by Lord Farhiem Niegl, the enemy who commanded the armies that killed his family.
Wounded, bleeding and outclassed, Pwenet struggled on, the enemy knights and footsoldiers watching, fighting off those Knights that tried to interfere. Lord Farhiem slashed out, and with a blinding wave of pain, Pwenet lost his left eye, and crouched on the ground, clutching the ruins of his eye as the Lord advanced to make an end of the game. Then Pwenet did something that was unexpected, and against the code of conduct. He pulled out a simple dagger, and as the Lord was about to take off his head, rolled out of the way, and opened up the Lords throat.
What happened next was a blur, but Pwenet was saved from the disorganized enemy troops, and was given treatments. Yet those that treated him were cautious around him, staying away. His fellow footsoldiers refused to visit, and knights would eye him strangely, for he, a mere footsoldier, had cheated his way to victory, killing off the enemy Lord.
Upon recovering, whispers of knighthood changed into whispers of banishment. It was an affront that he had the gall to kill the enemy lord. Within days of his recovery, he was summoned to see his Lord, who gave Pwenet the greatsword wielded by Lord Farhiem, an ancient family blade, smelted from a ancient, mystical metal that was light, durable, and would never rust or loose the edge. He told Pwenet that because of his victory, he won the war, and earned the blade, and yet he violated the rules of engagement, and was to be banished to protect the lord.
And thus Pwenet was banished. He took to wandering the lands, lending his sword as a sellsword to those that either didnít know who he was or didnít care. For years he traveled like this, looking for a place to call home.
Then one morning, after sleeping under the stars, he awoke in a new land, the land where the Town exists.