Hostor Redram
2. Gender.
Male
3. Age.
32 years old
4. Race.
Rosicrucian/Celestial
5. Profession
Elemental Mage – Fire Mage
6. Element
Fire
7. Appearance.
Non-canon, as he is in a robe.
Hostor's height is about 190 centimeters. His build is sturdy and muscular. Fair skin. Oblong face, straight chin, long and wide. Deep-set gray-blue eyes, both with slight copper central heterochromia. His gaze is mostly cruel, piercing, sullen, often looking from under his brow. Light brown hair of medium length, always parted in the center. Wide, thick, and long eyebrows. Snub nose. Thick lips. Due to a reluctance to shave, stubble is always noticeable on Hostor's face, extending to full mustaches and a beard. Confident voice, often devoid of emotional tones, quiet. Straight posture, direct, firm, unhurried gait.
On his back between the shoulder blades is a small tattoo in the form of a burning flame. On the left arm, from slightly above the wrist to the elbow, are burn scars.
In clothing, he strives for simplicity and convenience. He almost never wears the traditional fire mage robe, preferring more standard attire. His wardrobe consists of gray linen shirts and linen trousers trimmed with salamander leather. A belt with a double buckle featuring an engraving of a rose on the plate. Over this, he wears a leather jacket with sewn-in armor plates and a simple hooded traveling cloak. On his left forearm, he always fastens a bracer of hardened steel to the jacket. For footwear, he prefers high laced boots with metal caps on the toe and heel. He also wears black leather gloves.
A sword in a scabbard at the left hip, a crossbow and a quiver of bolts behind his back.
8. Personality.
His personality is secretive, yet somewhat shy. Hostor is proud and selfish. He treats those around him with distrust and contempt; in conversations he finds undesirable, he remains detached and closed off, often being caustic and showering others with skepticism and sarcasm. However, if communicating with a rare pleasant person or if it is necessary to achieve a goal, Redram can demonstrate not only wonders of patience and politeness but also quite a decent amount of charm.
He is sensitive and emotional, although he keeps all his feelings inside and rarely shows them. Hostor is hot-tempered, reckless, impulsive, and aggressive; he can lose his balance over any trifle and is capable of remaining in a state of rage for a long time.
He does not recognize titles and judges a person by their actions; he considers almost no one above himself and is quite brazen toward those who think otherwise.
Intelligent and cunning, he is ready to achieve his goal by any means. Calculating and attentive to detail, although he values intuition and instincts over logic and analysis. He does not shy away from lies and betrayal, though he prefers to remain in good standing with certain people.
Suspicious, he trusts no one and never leaves his back exposed. For this same reason, he mostly hides his abilities, including wearing simple clothes, using ordinary equipment in daily life, and presenting himself as a simple traveler or hunter.
9. Biography.
The Commander-in-Chief of the 4th Shock Army of the Rosicrucian Kingdom, Captain Valder Redram, was a very influential man within the royal family's circle and rose quickly in rank, and therefore always had many enemies. Most of them envied him silently, whispering curses under their breath, but some went further. On one stifling summer night, when sleep tangles in the heat like a fly in a web, Valder was awakened by faint echoes of battle. They quickly faded, and Redram guessed the reason. He prepared for a fight, but the opponent still managed to surprise him. The Captain expected several dozen tough thugs who would simply kick down all doors with enchanted locks and chop the guards into cabbage, and he prepared to wage a small war against the assassins, hoping to sell his life dearly. But instead, a woman entered the chambers gracefully, having silently opened the magical lock and softly pushed open the doors. Sharp facial features and dark straight hair gathered in a bun revealed the mercenary as an inhabitant of the Celestial Empire. The mixture of surprise and focus on her face did not distort her enchanting youthful beauty; eyes burning with magic beckoned, and the luxury of her body encased in leather armor was beyond comparison to the dressed-up girls at royal receptions. This is what Captain Valder Redram, Commander-in-Chief of the 4th Shock Army of the Rosicrucian Kingdom, thought as he stood in the middle of his room in only sleeping trousers, having lowered a sword reflecting the silver moon. Stunned more by her target's gaze—full of a strange obsession—than by the fact that she had been discovered, the girl hesitated to attack. And when she finally overcame herself and the short wavy blade lunged toward its target, the assassin's hand was stopped. Redram, impulsive and reckless, did not attack—he, with a cold blade at his throat, looking into the eyes of the harbinger of his death, offered her to become his wife... The result of this mad union was Hostor Redram.
To say that Hostor grew up under strict discipline would be an understatement. The Rosicrucian code of honor in the family of military official Valder Redram was elevated to an absolute. Not even his mother could save the son from constant lessons, punishments, and admonitions. In the parents' opinion, all methods were justified—Valder was preparing his offspring for military service, for high officer ranks, and for the King's approval. But Hostor himself did not share his father's point of view. Numerous sessions with a dozen teachers brought melancholy to the child, combat training drained the last of his strength, and books were his only joy. In every free minute, young Redram detached himself from the whole world, diving headfirst into another story full of adventures and mysteries, wars and magic. His fantasy soared to cloudy heights, and soon Hostor himself was cutting enemies in half, turning powerful demons to ash, and saving the world riding a tamed dragon. Books tore him away from reality, but in return gave him incredible experience, teaching him better than any tutors. This obsession with fictional worlds did not please Valder Redram—his son became estranged, hardly communicated with peers, and began to show waywardness—however, there was nothing he could do about it. Hostor was saved from confrontation with his father by a long-time comrade of the general. Being a quite skilled mage, he saw potential in the boy, which he did not hesitate to report to the parents. Valder, though favorably disposed toward magic, hesitated. He understood that Hostor would not become an excellent soldier, and dreams of inheriting the honorable path of a commander were not destined to come true. But in the end, love outweighed General Redram's personal desires, and he sent his fifteen-year-old son to the capital of the Selentit Empire, to the Academy of Magic.
The Faculty for the study of Fire magic was one of the most popular in the Academy, but that did not matter to Hostor. Redram chose fire because no other element could distinguish itself with such a riot of emotions, a kaleidoscope of temperaments, unpredictability, internal power, and rebelliousness. Fire is not a servant, but an ally. And even if these conclusions were drawn from his beloved books—it did not hinder the choice. Learning was not particularly easy, but it couldn't be called exhausting either. Hostor always had enough time for both entertainment and additional study. Even periodic fencing was allotted several hours a week—overcoming the call of blood was difficult and unnecessary.
Over time, it became apparent that stories about the element were not entirely lies. Fire changed Hostor—it hardened him, strengthened him, distorted learned norms of morale, and endowed him with true cunning and will. Just as a potter creates items from soft clay, changing form and content, so the flame created a likeness of itself out of Hostor: when calmness and detachment flare up in an instant into aggression and cruelty, when a raging fire becomes smaller than a candle's light. The element changed Redram, or perhaps it was the initiative of his own belief—it does not matter. What matters is that he formed as a person, as a man, and as a mage. At twenty-five, Hostor finished his studies and, unwilling to return home, decided to travel and seek his path in life, ironically remembering the favorite heroes of his childhood years.
Years of wandering allowed the mage to acquire much knowledge, perfect existing skills, and study new ones, but destiny continued to hide from Redram. He visited large cities and hamlets of three huts, dense forests and spacious fields, but found nothing that would make the flame of his soul burn brighter or guide him. By twenty-nine, the thread of wanderings led Hostor to the foot of the Black Mountains—the largest, densest, and most dangerous mountain range in the Selentit Empire, and by complete chance, brought him face-to-face with an old acquaintance. Alisa was a few years younger than Redram, but they entered the Academy in the same year. The girl studied air magic, but this did not prevent the young people from crossing paths and communicating own way. Alisa finished her training only a year ago and, before joining the ranks of the Empire's army mages, decided to return home to one of the small mining towns of the Black Mountains. And it was in a roadside tavern at the foot of the mountains that the girl encountered Hostor. Time had changed him, but Alisa easily recognized the convoluted and not-so-refined curses woven into an angry tirade with which Redram—just as he did during their school days—was showering a drunkard who had spilled on him, as well as his sullen gaze. Hostor was not particularly happy about the meeting, especially while in clothes soaked in cheap spirits, but to his surprise, the conversation went quite well. And it ended with Alisa challenging the fire mage's pride and convincing him to travel together. This did not particularly please the closed-off and unsociable Redram; however, wounded pride would not allow him to refuse. The joint journey was not easy, and only a stroke of chance changed this aspect. On one of the roads, the companions "met" an Ore Baron—a dangerous monster that had long been hibernating in caves with huge deposits of black ore and woke for short periods only to satisfy its hellish hunger. Stopping the hungry beast, capable of destroying a small village, was very difficult; the mages nearly gave their lives in the battle, and only an artificially induced landslide could finally kill the monster. The battle did not just bond Hostor and Alisa—it ignited a fire of passion between them. And they traveled the remaining way no longer as mere companions.
For three months Redram lived with Alisa in her hometown, content with their relationship and the rest. However, at one "wonderful" moment, the girl joyfully informed Hostor that she was pregnant. The fire mage did not particularly share the joy of this news, only pretending that everything was fine. He did not see himself as a father to a child; he did not see himself as a rigid family man. Redram became afraid, and even the fact that his bond with Alisa was much stronger and firmer than all previous relationships could not overcome this fear. And, after a few days, under cover of night, Hostor simply ran away, leaving the girl almost all his money and valuables—aside from a stupid note—including the family signet ring and the Fire graduate's ring, a sort of symbol of acknowledging shame and renouncing the houses of his benefactors.
Driven by shame, Redram began to wander even more diligently. His personality did not change, but his motivation did—he didn't know what to do and tried to find answers. Hostor stopped using his surname, more often covering himself completely with the pseudonym Ness Kreuz. It was this name that some time later thundered at the tournament of young mages in the largest city of the Selentit Empire, when Hostor, being broke, decided to take first prize and did not miscalculate. Having won a great haul, the fire mage quickly departed, ignoring congratulations and continuing his journey. And only a rumor of vast knowledge gave him the necessary hope. Not money, nor power, nor might—knowledge. And an expanded answer to the question "what to do? Move along one's own path, go with the flow, or return to that which was rashly left behind?".
10. Equipment and Weapons.
Equipment.
Two sturdy travel bags of different sizes.
One large backpack containing a fire mage robe, spare simple underwear, a couple of books and personal notes, writing supplies, a five-meter rope, and two healing potions.
The second bag is a small shoulder bag; in it are stored several pieces of dried meat in a canvas pouch, a couple of onions, slightly hardened bread, a flask of the strongest country moonshine, a steel mug, and a small folding knife; a flint is in a separate pocket.
In the inner pocket of the jacket is a pouch with a small amount of money.
Weapons.
A longsword of quality steel, given by his father.
A crossbow with two dozen bolts.
I have a feeling that I forgot something...
