Pritchard Belmonte

Pritchard Belmonte bore the scars of faith and doubt on his weathered face, a map etched by piety, betrayal, and years of self-flagellation. His once-golden hair, now streaked with silver, clung in damp strands to his brow, a testament to the river of ale that had flowed through him during his self-imposed exile in Feakrith.
His tall frame, though stooped and softened by years of excess, still held the echo of a warrior-priest. Eyes the color of storm clouds, once bright with devotion, now shimmered with a mixture of cynicism and hesitant hope. Their gaze, often lost in reveries of past horrors, could suddenly snap to life with a glint of righteousness, a reminder of the fire that still flickered beneath the ashes of his faith.
The Illioss symbol tattooed on his left arm, once a badge of pride, now felt like a brand of shame. The memory of Father Gabriel's twisted sermons, the screams of the innocent souls he was forced to torture, haunted him like phantoms. He fled the Clergy, seeking solace in the bottom of a Feakrith alehouse, drowning in despair and drowning out the accusatory whispers of ghosts.
But the Devil’s Incursion in Feakrith stirred the embers of his dormant spirit. Witnessing the city's resilience, the courage of ordinary people facing down an existential threat, rekindled a spark of the cleric he once was. Joining the Zriegast rebellion, he fought not just for the city, but for a chance at redemption.
The Fall of Zriegast remains a raw wound. He bears the physical scars of the battle, alongside the invisible ones etched upon his soul by the screams of the dying and the despair in the eyes of the children he helped rescue. Now, back in Feakrith, he helps rebuild the shattered Illioss Clergy, brick by battered brick.
He leads with a gruff compassion, his booming voice softened by the ghosts of past sins. He mentors the rescued Aasamir children, seeking to shield them from the darkness he's seen, while exorcising his own demons through their innocence.
Pritchard Belmonte is a man in twilight, wrestling with the shadows of his past. He walks a tightrope between penance and despair, clinging to the faint hope that perhaps, just perhaps, redemption can bloom even in the most barren soil. He is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, a man forever scarred by his deeds, yet still striving to illuminate the path ahead with the flickering torch of his rekindled faith.

Current Location

Zriegast

Species

Human

Ethnicity

Zriegrasion

Eyes

Grey

Hair

Long Grey

Skin Tone/Pigmentation

weathered

Height

6ft

Weight

200lbs

Belief/Deity

Ilioss, God of Purity

Other Affiliations

• The Wererat Investigation Bureau