Name: Galen Caddell
Class: Shaman -> Summoner
Character Specific Skill: Sol
Affinity: ??
Personal Fault: Old Scars: When attacking Mercenaries or their promotions, -2 DAM.
Personal Skill: Not My Time: When below 50% HP, +2 DAM.
\Personal Skill: In Good Company: When within 3 spaces of 3 or more allied units, +10 Hit and Eva.
\\ Personal Skill: Keeping Spirits Up: For one turn after Summoning a Phantom, +1 DAM, DEF and RES.
Class Skill:
Preferred Stats: MAG, SKL
Weapon Profs: Dread (C), Dark (D)
Progression Spent: 330% / 330%
HP: 19 (50%)
STR: 2 (0%)
MAG: 7 (70%)
SKL: 4 +1 (60%)
LCK: 2 +1 (30%)
DEF: 1 +2 (50%)
RES: 5 (40%)
SPD: 4 (30%)
CON: 6 (---)
AID: 5 (---)
MOV: 5 (---)
Inventory:
Name Type ( ) Rng Wt Mt Cr Hit Ql
Flux Dred (E) 1-2 9 8 0 80 45
Vulnerary 3/3
Bio: Galen Caddell was born in Year 285 of Imperical Era, in the bustling border town of Tessamor. Though his parents were but humble merchants, Galen had a lust for adventure from a young age. Be it wandering into the backyard, down the cellar, or down the street, he was almost always going somewhere new. He grew up happy, surrounded by friendly people to meet and aventure with, and life was good. The peace in his life was shattered, however, when his parents informed him at thirteen years old they would be uprooting themselves and moving northeast, into the Arvadian Sea of Rocks. He didn't understand it at all. They had plenty of friends in the city; what could they possibly gain by moving into a tiny farming hamlet in the middle of nowhere?
And, yet, the market was in a slight decline. His parents' trade made them less than it did several years prior and they were steadily losing money. Like it or not, the best possible choice was for them to take up farming. The change of scenery, while secretly refreshing to Galen, was not welcome, and he could not be consoled. A cloud of anger and irritation sat over the boy for months, not helped at all by the fact that his parents were right. More gold came in from selling just one harvest of crops than they had seen since the last year, and life was good.
Galen did eventually get out of his upset, and though his wanderlust was as strong as it had ever been he found peace in their village. It was great fun to hear stories from traveling merchants that stopped in every so often, especially those of Lorentians like himself. Rarely, very rarely, one of them had even been on a sea voyage before. On an actual ship. He could never hear enough about sea travel, young Galen.
Nor, for that matter, about magic. Magic was absolutely fascinating to the boy and he had always read up as much as he could during their time in Tessamor, though there was nothing new for him in the hamlet. And as a year passed since their departure from Lorente he found himself bored. Very, very bored, of farming and the little village and its inhabitants and everything. He wanted to explore, not sit around tilling soil for the rest of his life. Luckily for him, he got the chance to - in the form of a group of mercenaries who travelled around the country, seeing what it had to offer and taking pay for... work. Though hesitant at first, they eventually relented when Galen assured them his parents were on board. And they were, by proxy; they wanted him to be happy, and this would most certainly make him happy, whether or not they knew he had departed. So, with a simple note of apology left in his bedroom, Galen gathered his things and left with the group.
He had a marvelous year with them, wandering throughout Arvadia and seeing the sights. Galen was indeed happy. Even better, a member of the group knew how to wield magic, and instructed the young man on its use for a time. He learned quickly and was soon able to use spells of old as well as the man himself. Life was once again good for Galen, and it lasted for quite some time before tragedy struck. Several of the group, deciding they no longer needed the assistance of the rest, attacked in the middle of the night. Many had their throats slit, though Galen awoke just before the same happened to him. He scuffled with the attacker, gaining a nasty slash across his face, but struck the man down and hurried away from the campsite, unable to drown out the screams of those he left behind.
(If Chapter 3) Finding himself lost and alone with little but his clothes and magic tome, Galen wandered the wilderness. He hoped to find another group he could belong to and that history would, if just this once, neglect to repeat itself.
(If Chapter 4) Finding himself lost and alone with little but his clothes and magic tome, Galen wandered the wilderness. He eventually found another group to belong to - a pair of wanderers like himself - and hoped that history would, if just this once, neglect to repeat itself.
[Edit] It occurs to me I may have, slightly, typed too much.