Valmar Daedelus
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grey_bishop / Valmar Daedelus
This is the background story for my retirement package character for Valin. This is the first of two parts and is being worked out with Caoimh, who has given approval for the background connection to the Peltarch Daedelus family. Some minor changes may be forthcoming based on Caoimh's input.
Prologue: A Tale of Song and Sword
PART I of IIValmar Daedelus was not always a disappointment to his father. As the first born son of Jesomar and Mary Alice Daedalus, his was the constant attention of a doting father. Valmar's older sister Analise, often morose and rarely known to smile, was little competition to the smiling, laughing, little boy for their father's attention. Everything changed five years later when Moriarti Daedelus was born. While it wasn't as if his father ignored him, neither was his attention primarily focused on Valmar as he had become accustomed to. For Valmar, his world was shattered, and he grew to envy his younger brother for it.
It was during this time, in a bid for attention, that Valmar turned from a charming, friendly, young child, to a troublesome, difficult boy. By ten, Valmar had developed a reputation for getting into trouble of all sorts. If he was told not to do something he most certainly did it. If he was denied something he found a way to get it anyway, even stealing. One thing Valdemir developed an eye for were the hidden places in a building of stone where he would secret away his acquired treasures. Over time he began to call himself an 'adventurer' and claim he was liberating spoils from vicious beasts and monsters; only his aunt Genuflectia was the evil Vampiress, his sister Analise, the vile Sea Hag of Peltarch, and his little brother Moriarity, the Kobold King.
By fifteen, Valmar was a true villain of the household. His devilish pranks, and constant theft, had extended into the rest of the city, where he would often wander, even when instructed not to. Eventually, his deeds caught up to him. His theft of a ring from a notable member of the Defenders left him with little chance to use his family's influence to escape repercussions. So after nearly a tenday of debate a compromise was reached wherein Valmar found himself agreeing to attend classes at the Bardic College. While his parents had proposed several alternatives, none of which appealed to Valmar, it was Valmar himself who had proposed College as a counter. He was surprised to have his parent's accept after a only a short discussion.
Not entirely sure he was happy with his own machinations, despite how easy he was convinced Bardic College would be, Valmar set out for College expecting to get into just as much trouble as ever. His time there soon left him little energy or time for his planned trouble-making. College was not nearly as easy as he had envisioned. His talent for music and song were no great things, nor was his ability to dance, though he showed some small ability as a poet and writer. What he did discover, was that he had a talent for swordplay and enjoyed it a great deal. After a difficult day of classes, he even went so far as practicing on his own, the rhythmic motions of attempting to perfect a single move and counter move calming to him. His days' troubles soon drifted away with the sweat that poured forth during each evening's practice.
Upon completion of his time at the College, Valmar's father was ready to welcome him back. It was clear his family was aware that he had only barely passed, and then only for his limited ability as a poet, but it was also apparent that his time with the College had changed him, steeled him in some way. His previously boyish frame had filled out, his chest, while not nearly as broad as his father's, considerable, his blonde hair, and eyes, reminding his mother of Jesomar in his youth.
After a large banquet to welcome Valmar home, his parents were surprised when, the next morning Valmar failed to show for breakfast. A servant sent to fetch him soon returned with a letter he had discovered on the desk in Valmar's room.
_Dearest Parents,
The last few years I have spent at the College cause me to believe I have not only grown in years, but in wisdom. I think back on my childhood and the way I behaved and I realize it was not only childish of me, but a disappointment to the family, and most of all, to you, my parents.
While it is true that I attended and graduated as promised, I feel that I must do more, that I must make amends to the whole of the family, nay, perhaps, to the very name Daedelus. What kept me going through the difficult days was the hour or so I could spend with my hammer, the one you gifted me father, upon my acceptance into the college. While I have not proven myself the next great Arryn Raven, or likely much a bard of any sort, I believe strongly that my path is that of a warrior, perhaps even a soldier.
I have heard of great turmoil in the lands of King Darius Dragonsbane and I have determined to offer my services to his armies. I hope in time I might return to prove I truly have earned the forgiveness of the family. Tell the Kobold King I look forward to seeing how much he has grown when I return.
With All My Love,
Valmar Daedelus_
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These "historical Archives" are being used for lvl 1´s PCs to write a story about their PCs and for that they will get XP, that, hopefully will ease the hardiness that is to be a lvl 1 PC. This Background XP helps them get lvl 2 or at least end up near lvl 2 with out mutch of a hassle.
But i guess that you can keep posting your PCs background story in this thread
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Oh, to any DMs, if retirement characters do not get background xp, this can be deleted. I have since posted it in the Tales by the Fire as the prologue to the character's story. Thanks.
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Oh, this is just in case there's any background xp to be had for a retirement package character.
I'll be posting the prologue portion from here and continuing the story in Tales by the Fire. Thanks. Glad you liked it.
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I´ve been reading you PCs story, i must say its quite an interesting readin
congratulations in that regard.
However… i belive that the best place for this story would be the "Tales by the Fire" rather than "Historical Archives"...
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Prologue: A Tale of Song and Sword
Part II of IIThe battle was a desperate one. Valmar and his men were cut off from the main body of troops. Why he always volunteered for the dangerous missions he still wasn't sure. It wasn't to prove anything to his family for he had decided some time ago he was still in Damara, still a soldier, only because he wanted to. His father's letters still arrived assuring him he had no need to prove anything, but offering understanding. Something in his father's letters seemed to suggest a deeper understanding of his need to do this, something Valmar thought he might ask about when he returned - IF he returned.
Tarken, a young recruit eager to prove himself took an orcish cleaver to the side of his neck. A fountain of blood issued forth covering the huge orc, it's bestial blood roar terrifying. Tarken's terrified eyes were open, staring at Valmar, pleadingly. With a quick chant, Valmar called on one of his few bardic healing spells, but to no avail. His worth as a bard was minimal, he had always known this. The wound healed slightly, not nearly as large as before, but the blood did not stop. Tarken was dead but a moment later. Valmar might have joined him if not for one of the other men, Jander, who shouted at him to look out.
In his concern for Tarken, Valmar had forgotten about the same orc that had felled him. Quickly rolling to the side and away, he felt the speed of the passing axe, and the force of its impact upon the ground. Gripping his heavy, spiked warhammer, he rose and rejoined one of the bloodiest fights of his life.
His unit's casualties were among the highest, and with the death of Jander in the night from his wounds, Valmar's exhaustion gave way to sadness. His men, all dead save two, were reassigned to another depleted unit. Their commander dead, Valmar was granted a field promotion to the rank of a junior officer. With nearly twenty men under him, many hastily assembled survivors from companys as unfortunate as his own, Valmar was thrust back into battle that same night, with little to no rest.
The night only made it worse. The Orcs seemed at home in the darkness, while his men were blind, and often unable to see the enemy until they were right on top of them. The battle seemed to last days, but in the end, the Damarans were victorious. The Orcs were soundly defeated, their horde scattered, its remnants retreating beyond the Giantspire Mountains to the east and beyond.
For his 'heroics' as they were being called, Valmar was offered a full promotion to the same rank he had assumed in battle. He knew he didn't deserve it any more than many of the other youths around him that were being promoted in the same manner. With so many officers killed in the fighting, the Damaran army needed to rebuild. After a year, with good service, the promotion would become permanent. Valmar was pleased, but saddened to have lost so many friends and companions.
The ceremony was a simple affair. A year had passed and Valmar was officially an officer in the Damaran army. Afterwards, he sat in his new quarters, pondering what his father would think of him now. He could just imagine riding beside him in the foothills west of the city, telling him of the battle against the Orcs, how they had been driven into the mountains and beyond . . . and beyond . . . his mind flashed back to the significance of that. Beyond the Giantspire's were . . . the western foothills of Peltarch!
Valmar grew restless and worried, his oath to Damara having just been renewed a year ago, after the battle when after a speech given by one of the Commanders of the Army, many signed up for another year or more. As he could not leave, he sent word to his family in Peltarch by rider. Weeks turned to months with no reply so he sent another letter, and then another. No response returned. Desperate, Valmar appealed to his commanders for an early end to his oath. Unwilling to oblige, claiming a shortage of men, Valmar morosely served the remainder of his time. At its end, he resigned from the Damaran military, vowing never to return. With what coin he had saved, the hammer his father had given him, and the armor his commission had won him, Valmar set out for Peltarch, for his home.
To be continued in 'A Tale of Song and Hammer' . . .
