Alexander Cromwell (Al-ecks-and-err Krom-well)
Alexander Cromwell
A name that almost all humans of Expin know. Alexander is known by a number of names: Tyrant King of Cromvale, Bearer of the Crimson Crown, Eastern Lord of Expin, the Grave Guardian and more. Little is known of his origins outside of that he personally razed his home village of Stonebrook to the ground, not leaving a single building standing. He was the leader of the notorious Harbingers of the Crimson Crown, a bandit clan that plundered and raided the easternmost reaches of Expin, particularly in the settlements around Crom's Passage. These raids pressured the settlements of Expin until they gave in to his demands and paid tribute and treated the Crimson Crown and his harbingers as royalty, setting up a self-fashioned fiefdom with himself at the top, taking the surname "Cromwell" as a symbol to his claim over Cromvale and its surroundings.
Whilst Alexander would consider himself a civilised brute, being willing to settle challenges in 1v1 duels and ensuring his raiders prioritised theft and damage over casualties and a willingness to accept any and all into the Harbingers should they so request it, his anger and savagery when aggravated was extensive and excessive; Stonebrook's ruins were evidence enough of that. However on the occasions where he was on the receiving end of trickery or betrayal, he would unleash the primal ferocity of a caged animal and when the red mist cleared, little would remain of his adversaries.
His weapon of choice was an oversized greatsword that could smash through the sturdiest of shields, and not something anyone would want to be struck by, armoured or not. Being only human, he was often seen struggling with its weight, especially in prolonged battles, and would often aim to end bouts in quick, decisive blows when enemies over-committed for small blows, trading cuts, bruises and scratches in return for bone-shattering strikes. His heavy full plate of armour was also designed to evoke fear in all those who saw it - the plate blackened, a skull-emblazoned mantle with thick, dark furs of monsters being draped as a cape behind it, arcane sigils weaved across the armour and from the belt hung 8 skulls on chains with a thin ribbon with names attached to each. His helmet completely encased his face, a magical darkness obscuring the details within the triangular slit where a face should be, and atop it a jagged, ornate, crimson crown with a 4 pointed crescent curved crest.
Underneath the thick armour is a visage much more surprising to most. A body whilst heavily scarred and densely muscled is still much more lithe and with less body hair than one would expect from such a storied combatant, with smooth skin where it wasn't scarred under his raven black hair. Many have questioned him on it, and a few brave or foolish souls have taunted him over it, however he always responded the same; "my strength in action speaks for itself, far more than my body alone ever could."
Alexander ruled over the eastern settlements of Expin for over 60 years, and whilst his name was still uttered in fear, there was little need for raids at that stage, for the Harbingers were given whatever they requested without hesitation, and in turn they kept the populace safe from other would-be rogues and monsters. Near the end of this time, the Daemonic Incursion was in full swing, and one by one the kingdoms began to fall. Alexander was in his eighties by this stage, yet still insisted on fighting alongside his harbingers, sustained predominantly by his own will to keep on standing on his own. In the end however, it wasn't enough, and despite his best efforts he was unable to defeat the demons alone.
And so Alexander gave one last speech in Cromvale. He had taken much from the people; first by force, by threat, and through fear. In return he'd offered stability, protection, and the freedom to be one's self. And yet here, faced on the brink of extinction, he had failed on all counts. There was no safety from the daemon hordes, and without that safety, no place could calim any level of stability. Cooks, maids and seamsters had been forced to become soldiers, giving up what they loved to defend those they love. A ruler who cannot protect those he rules has no right to such a title, and so he would make his final stand within Crom's Passage. If he succeeded, then those who remained would be safe and able to return to some semblance of normalcy. If the Crimson Crown were to fall, however, then the right to rule would fall with it.
Alexander and his Harbingers left, joined by a small contingent of brave souls determined to fight for their family and friends. The battle in the pass was long and arduous, with astronomical casualties. The battle was a pyrrhic victory; the daemons were successfully repelled, delaying their advance until reinforcements from the other nations arrived and pushed back the hordes to the aetherchasm. None of the Harbingers of the Crimson Crown survived, though some of the townsfolk militia, whilst grievously injured, were able to be stabilised and saved.
Alexander's body was never found, but it was assumed he went down fighting the strongest of the daemons, whose power was great enough to rend mortals to ash until nothing remains. Tales over the centuries have been spun regarding his fate, whether he survived and left to retire in peace, unable to face the people he'd held in an iron grip even in his moment of glory or that he cowardly fled whilst sending body after body into the meat grinder as a distraction. Some even claim he was a daemon in disguise, and led those brave fighters to their doom before returning to his own kind once more.
History struggles to decide where it stands on Alexander Cromwell, Bearer of the Crimson Crown. His crimes are well documented, and his rise to power was that of a textbook tyranny. That being said, some argue that the actual rule of the Crimson Crown was fair, and a much better and safer alternative to the laissez-faire methods of Domitari before and Mistral after, and that his actions to defend them when forces far greater than any of them could hope to defeat arose serves as evidence that his intentions were purer than most. The truth of his drive and motives however died with him and his harbingers. Perhaps one day those who wonder may ask them in the afterlife and hear his side of the story.
Whilst Alexander would consider himself a civilised brute, being willing to settle challenges in 1v1 duels and ensuring his raiders prioritised theft and damage over casualties and a willingness to accept any and all into the Harbingers should they so request it, his anger and savagery when aggravated was extensive and excessive; Stonebrook's ruins were evidence enough of that. However on the occasions where he was on the receiving end of trickery or betrayal, he would unleash the primal ferocity of a caged animal and when the red mist cleared, little would remain of his adversaries.
His weapon of choice was an oversized greatsword that could smash through the sturdiest of shields, and not something anyone would want to be struck by, armoured or not. Being only human, he was often seen struggling with its weight, especially in prolonged battles, and would often aim to end bouts in quick, decisive blows when enemies over-committed for small blows, trading cuts, bruises and scratches in return for bone-shattering strikes. His heavy full plate of armour was also designed to evoke fear in all those who saw it - the plate blackened, a skull-emblazoned mantle with thick, dark furs of monsters being draped as a cape behind it, arcane sigils weaved across the armour and from the belt hung 8 skulls on chains with a thin ribbon with names attached to each. His helmet completely encased his face, a magical darkness obscuring the details within the triangular slit where a face should be, and atop it a jagged, ornate, crimson crown with a 4 pointed crescent curved crest.
Underneath the thick armour is a visage much more surprising to most. A body whilst heavily scarred and densely muscled is still much more lithe and with less body hair than one would expect from such a storied combatant, with smooth skin where it wasn't scarred under his raven black hair. Many have questioned him on it, and a few brave or foolish souls have taunted him over it, however he always responded the same; "my strength in action speaks for itself, far more than my body alone ever could."
Alexander ruled over the eastern settlements of Expin for over 60 years, and whilst his name was still uttered in fear, there was little need for raids at that stage, for the Harbingers were given whatever they requested without hesitation, and in turn they kept the populace safe from other would-be rogues and monsters. Near the end of this time, the Daemonic Incursion was in full swing, and one by one the kingdoms began to fall. Alexander was in his eighties by this stage, yet still insisted on fighting alongside his harbingers, sustained predominantly by his own will to keep on standing on his own. In the end however, it wasn't enough, and despite his best efforts he was unable to defeat the demons alone.
And so Alexander gave one last speech in Cromvale. He had taken much from the people; first by force, by threat, and through fear. In return he'd offered stability, protection, and the freedom to be one's self. And yet here, faced on the brink of extinction, he had failed on all counts. There was no safety from the daemon hordes, and without that safety, no place could calim any level of stability. Cooks, maids and seamsters had been forced to become soldiers, giving up what they loved to defend those they love. A ruler who cannot protect those he rules has no right to such a title, and so he would make his final stand within Crom's Passage. If he succeeded, then those who remained would be safe and able to return to some semblance of normalcy. If the Crimson Crown were to fall, however, then the right to rule would fall with it.
Alexander and his Harbingers left, joined by a small contingent of brave souls determined to fight for their family and friends. The battle in the pass was long and arduous, with astronomical casualties. The battle was a pyrrhic victory; the daemons were successfully repelled, delaying their advance until reinforcements from the other nations arrived and pushed back the hordes to the aetherchasm. None of the Harbingers of the Crimson Crown survived, though some of the townsfolk militia, whilst grievously injured, were able to be stabilised and saved.
Alexander's body was never found, but it was assumed he went down fighting the strongest of the daemons, whose power was great enough to rend mortals to ash until nothing remains. Tales over the centuries have been spun regarding his fate, whether he survived and left to retire in peace, unable to face the people he'd held in an iron grip even in his moment of glory or that he cowardly fled whilst sending body after body into the meat grinder as a distraction. Some even claim he was a daemon in disguise, and led those brave fighters to their doom before returning to his own kind once more.
History struggles to decide where it stands on Alexander Cromwell, Bearer of the Crimson Crown. His crimes are well documented, and his rise to power was that of a textbook tyranny. That being said, some argue that the actual rule of the Crimson Crown was fair, and a much better and safer alternative to the laissez-faire methods of Domitari before and Mistral after, and that his actions to defend them when forces far greater than any of them could hope to defeat arose serves as evidence that his intentions were purer than most. The truth of his drive and motives however died with him and his harbingers. Perhaps one day those who wonder may ask them in the afterlife and hear his side of the story.
Current Location
Species
Circumstances of Death
Presumed to have died in battle during the Daemonic Incursion
Children
Hair
Medium length raven straight hair
Height
180cm (in armour),165cm (out of armour)
Weight
90kg
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