Last Name: Therao
Appearance:
Race: Tiefling (with prominent features now developing with age)
Age: 37
Height 6' 2"
Weight: 180 lbs
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Brown
Facial Hair Style: A recognizable beard
Personality Profile:
General Health: Fairly good health. Fit and muscular in the aerobic sense.
Deity: Denier
Initial Alignment: Neutral Good
Profession: Tactician
Base Class & Proposed Development: Fighter
Habits/Hobbies: Often repeats his phrases, for emphasis, and unconsciously.
Languages: Master of Language.
Weapon of Choice: Dagger and Spear.
Background:
"Knowledge is power. The Strategian will triumph. Tactics your weapon."
- Ancient Chessenta Commander's Proverb
The tactician, the man who would be General. A veteran of war from the soldiers ranks. A wandering thief and sailor, his fate was to be continually conscripted into one battle or another—both on land and the high seas—until his intelligence and tactics earned him a place at the table of Generals.excerpt from his golden-leather bound book wrote: Baldur's Gate, Marpenoth 13, 1349
I have arrived here with nothing but this handful of rings and the rapier of the slain first mate. Enchanted rings they be...the little I could escape with. The ensuing chaos after the first deceit left nothing but one choice—grab the map and immediately flee, or pay the final price....
Preparation for the battle had consumed my thoughts, and I was blind to the treachery brewing amongst the divided captains within the armada. I still hear the screams from the deckhands at the fore, when the flesh caught magic fire from the initial volley, as the sea wizards turned first and made the sign, with launched firebrands upon my captain's ship. The sails became firelight dragons in the twilight, and a murderous sea swelled as the Gods laughed at our folly.
I could swear to myself that would be my last endeavor, my last war, my last role as tactician to captain, to General...but it would be a lie hidden within a hollow promise. I am soldier. I am Sailor. I have earned a veterans fortitude; it resides upon my skin. Whether at sea or on land, tis not I that seeks it, but the battle always finds me, sends its herald to my lodging no matter how far from the traveled road it may be. The challenger always stumbles into my path. Always I must take up the defense, enact the offensive, parry my opponent and succeed with a precise strike.
Here, now, I find myself washed upon land called the Sword Coast. Fitting, one could write, for he that studies the way toward perfection of the Mindful Blade. The open port city of Baldur's Gate looks to welcome those unknown into its protective walls. And for this I am grateful. I may rest and plan my next move, under the stability of this vibrant city. To note— It has been many years since I've seen the enflamed fist ranks—I am glad they won't remember me, for my youth has long past, and it was an act of desperation to have earned a mercenaries wage under their banner during that skirmish. Still...I shall be careful around them. It is by Tymora that no persons seem to question the new face, a man in a simple white tunic without banner, a handful of magik rings offered, to fund his restoration...a man looking to make themselves anew.
For many that witnessed his skill moving armies and tactics of warfare, they could only accept that his mixed-fiendish blood was the source of such skill. His background was full of prejudice, and as such, his actions bordered more on the neutral than the Good, his own ethics holding no evil in weight, but callused to the pull of either moral.
Trained as a soldier for many years, his skill with the piercing weapon was unmatched. Not one to take challenges from others lightly, his skill as a duelist grew naturally, for although talented in moving armies, he was not above the option of solving wars with the result of a single battle between individuals.
Goals:
To build the Lanceboard, a highly effective and superbly skillful group of seven.
Possible Plot-Hook Ideas and Misc Facts:
- a rather recent battle upon the Sea of Fallen Stars involving Chessentan warlords, sea captains...and traitors...was the last great event in Naeus' life before his arrival—or self-willed exile—to the Sword Coast.
- Has a sister still in Chessenta that he confides in via letter. He must hide his whereabouts to her, implying she is "connected" in some way to those that would do Naeus harm...no matter is location of Faerun.
- while a master tactician who speaks of concepts as well of strategy via a metaphorical use of the Lanceboard, he actually hates "playing games," in the sense that any would act frivolous when discussing actions, or would tease or act childish, on purpose or for the simple self-serving act. Any person or entity that tries to "play games" with him, will easily fire up his tiefling temper. A game, the lance board, is a structure created to challenge the skills. Some games are played for fun, yet the game Naeus is playing, is not.