Name: Eredin Folcard
Born: Kingdom of Kaeloth, Folcard Keep.
Skills: Swordsmanship, riding, jousting, diplomacy, well-read, tactician, magic.
Hobbies: Reading, riding, sparring, tournaments, running, flute playing.
Father: Destrian Folcard.
Mother: Valyndra Liaren.
Brother: Valrath Folcard.
Sister: Aveniya Folcard.
Hailing from the beautiful but war-torn kingdom of Kaeloth, Eredin had the fortune to be born into the knightly household of Folcard- a household that, historically, served in the the thickest of each of the wars to sunder the kingdom for generations. He is no typical human however, having his mother’s elven blood in his veins. Eredin’s upbringing was that of training. His body was honed for battle just as his mind for the scholarly and social duties of a knight in addition to his spirit being moulded for the chivalrous honour that they are renowned for. Having fought bordering kingdoms and hillman clans, beastmen from the mountains and undead raised from the graves, Eredin is well versed in the art of war; indeed his first battle was fought in his sixteenth winter during his time as a dutiful squire, human strength combined with elven speed and relentless training made him a fearsome foe. Since then he has risen up to become a fully fledged Knight, ever ready to stand up for himself and others in duels against knights many years his senior if honour called for it. His father’s bloodline and Eredin’s own skill at arms protected him from much of the mockery and hostillity other half-elves might expect- especially after he had beaten the dozenth jester into the ground in a duel.
He yearns for exploration not only to gain experience, but to expand his understanding of the world and its races. However his adventuring ways were not always so; until just shy of a year ago Eredin spent the majority of his time within his kingdom’s borders- on ocassion heading out alongside fellow knights and men-at-arms to launch counter attacks into a rival kingdom for some vengeance on an act that leads to another, or to keep the raiding tribes of beastmen on the backfoot away from the plains and forests of
-—. It was in one such battle that his sword Orrenir fell from his grasp into a flowing river to be taken away far away from Eredin- who had been rendered unconscious and assumed dead in the bloody battle.
Orrenir had been Eredin’s since his very first venture into the elven kingdom his mother hailed from alongside his long-time knightly companion Brumear. Upon arrival, his heightened senses taking note of something amiss in the usually tranquil forest. Sprinting onwards with a confused Brumear on his heel, he soon had his suspicions confirmed when he came upon the daughter of a local elven noble famous for their smithing skills. The daughter was surrounded by a circle of dead orc assassins with even more closing in. Without a second of hesitation Eredin rushed in with blade drawn, having the element of surprise he and Brumear took several down before they divided their attention to the two newcomers. A relatively short but intense fight compromised of Eredin taking what would have been a mortal series of blows on the outflanked elf by parrying one and taking the other upon his own body. Brumear had been knocked unconscious and Eredin was badly wounded, but the noble’s daughter was alive and the assassins laid slain before them. They limped back to the forest city just in time before Eredin passed out- his self imposed charge having been seen to safety. He awoke a day later in the comfort of an elven bed, the sounds of birds and other wildlife heralding his consciousness.
His reward for saving the noble’s daughter was almost finished. Upon exiting the house built into a tree he was guided to an impressive forge where he was met with Brumear- a competent blacksmith in his own right- and the matriarch of the elven family working on a sword. The matriarch singing as she worked the forge, Brumear guiding when needed as to the specifics of the sword to match Eredin’s fighting style. When the forging was done, the sword was held out to him by metal prongs and he gripped it in an ungloved hand. The matriarch was still singing spells of sword-forging as he took it and felt a wave of energy move through him and an instant connection to the sword, and he knew the sword’s name instantly- Orrenir. The almost mystically crafted sword was matched with an equally impressive scabbard- Celeste. The pair matching as if soul mates. Much akin to the blade, the scabbard was no ordinary sword holster- it possessed elven magic that warns Eredin of immediate danger which has naturally saved his life more times than he can count; whether it has been a vicious stab to the back in the midst of battle or an assassin in the night, Celeste’s elven singing is Eredin’s greatest source of comfort.
His already impressive fighting calibre was greatly enhanced by the blade that felt apart of him, and the sword never left his side or fist until one particularly fierce battle with a immensely large beastkin tribe. Outnumbered and ambushed on the road, the losses were severe on either side, and Eredin and the convoy he was escorting was soon overrun. Having been rendered unconscious in the midst of battle and left for dead, his sword slipped from his grasp only to be carried downstream by the movements of a river. Once he had stumbled back to his home and received proper medical attention, he took up his old knightly sword and a pair of horses, saying his farewells before heading out on a quest to retrieve what he felt empty and naked without.