Hiraeth Redbrace, Paladin of the Crown

Birth and Adoption

Hiraeth (hirˌīTH) was the only born child to a low, common family in the Kingdom of Dreymore. Humble as they were, they were also devoted worshipers of Ashtar, God of Justice. In his infancy, Hiraeth’s parents contracted the wasting disease and, soon after, passed into the arms of Diniries, Goddess of Peace. The clerics at the local temple of Ashtar, knowing the devotion of his parents, took pity on the orphan and brought Hiraeth to the local nobles, Count and Countess Redbrace of Durden's Warf, appealing for help in the infant’s situation. The nobles were good and compassionate people and had sympathy for the child. Since they were barren, and without children of their own, in secrecy, they adopted Hiraeth claiming he was their child. Only a select few knew that Hiraeth was not their natural child. Being the only son, he was also heir to all titles that the nobles possessed.

His Early Years

The nobles caringly and lovingly raised Hiraeth, giving him an education befitting his station. He was given multiple tutors that trained him in both academic and chivalric studies. Hiraeth performed moderately well with book learning but excelled with the sword. Without divulging the true reasons to Hiraeth, but as an acknowledgment to his biological parentage, Hiraeth was also raised to worship and follow the teachings of the God Ashtar. Therefore, he learned the values of duty, honor, obedience, courage, and self-sacrifice. Hiraeth was very proud to be the son of such great nobles. They were kind and loved by their people. They conducted their selves with dignity and honor. Sorry was the man who spoke ill of Hiraeth’s parents in his presence or in the presence of any of their people. He was proud of the name that he bore and felt a great responsibility of the duty of bearing that name into the future. However, this pride bordered on arrogance, and he occasionally felt that he was superior, not only to those below his station, but among his peers as well. For they did not have parents as great or as loved as he. However, he knew that these thoughts were wrong, and beneath him. Therefore, he attempted to suppress his arrogance.

The Revelation of His Birth and Struggle for Identity

Around the age of 16, Hiraeth’s adoptive mother died of natural causes. He loved his mother, and this was a devastating loss to the young man. After a year of mourning, his father took another wife. While she would never replace his mother, she was also a kind and pleasant woman. With his new bride, Hiraeth’s father sired a child, a son. While Hiraeth was delighted at having a new half-brother, Hiraeth’s father was distraught. He had thought that he could not have children, but now he had a son, a son who actually carried his blood. He loved Hiraeth and was torn with the decision to keep his adoptive son as his heir or allow his title to pass through his bloodlines as was the custom of his people. After much lamentation, his decision was to be the latter.
His father went to Hiraeth, and told him the truth of his parentage, and how he became their child. While his father did disinherit him from his titles, he explained that he would always love him, and that he would always be considered his son. He also asked that Hiraeth not divulge the secrecy of his parentage, so as not to invite scandal on the family. For, essentially, they had lied to their people for 17 years.
Hiraeth was destroyed by this revelation, he had recently lost his mother to death, and now to learn that she was not actually his mother after all, it felt like she was dying a second death. Along with this, his identity was completely eradicated. He had felt so superior because of who his parents were. They were so loved because of their great compassions for their people, and now to learn that he had no right to claim pride for his lineage, but, instead, he was just another example of their kindness. He was not to be a creator of the compassion, the love, the generosity, he was merely another example of it.
In his devastation, Hiraeth was also contemplative. At first, he was angry at his adoptive family for keeping such a secret from him. He was sad at the loss of the honor of carrying forth his family’s name into the future. His family’s name, even that took on new meaning. Could he even call it his family’s name any longer? However, had they not taken him in, what would his life have been? Would he even be alive? Even though he was still struggling with who he was, what he was, what was his role to be in this world, his anger merged with gratitude. He realized how lucky he was to have had such a wonderful life gifted to him. How his utter existence was a gift that should be cherished every day. The merger of anger and gratitude left him with what he could only describe as a joyful pain; pain at the loss he had to bear, but joy at the life he was given. His life became a cycle of joy and pain, pain and joy, and pain, and pain, and pain. The cycle was relentless, but always the pain won out. The pain of the cycle seemed to be growing stronger each day, and after much time in prayer to Ashtar, Hiraeth realized why. He knew why the pain was pulling so hard at his heart, and what he must do to stop it. He had carried himself in such high esteem, not because of who he was, but because of the blood he imagined flowed in his veins. He had hoped to achieve greatness not through deeds but through inheritance. Now, there was no such hope. He would have to create such a hope for himself. Hiraeth packed his most sacred things and left all else behind. He gave his love to his father, stepmother, and half-brother, and he set out. He would go into the world and be great, not because of his lineage, but because of who he was. Like his adoptive father, he would be the shield of the weak, and the sword of the defenseless, loved by the people and feared by their oppressors. He would bring honor to the name he bore and repay the immense gift that had had been given.

Yearning to be Worthy

In his travels, Hiraeth had many adventures and did many great deeds. He was loved by his companions and thought well of by all who knew him. Although he was truly the shield of the weak, as Hiraeth aged, he felt that his deeds had not been enough, that he could have been more, done more. His immense debt had not been paid, and he felt as if he had failed.
One cold winter night, as Hiraeth lay sleeping in a local Inn, the town Hireath was in fell victim to a goblin raid. Hiraeth quickly donned his armor, grabbed his sword and shield, and set out into the streets. Like so many before it, he would defend this town with his life. The streets were chaos. People fleeing in terror were everywhere. Among the confusion, Hireath heard a cry. Looking down, he saw a small child. A human girl, about 8 or 9. Hiraeth asked where her parents were, and she pointed to a darkened alley. There, Hireath saw two bodies, both hewn by goblin scimitars. The girl, like him, was orphaned.
He placed the girl behind him, and she clung to him for protection. Hiraeth pushed through the panicked crowd and cut through the goblin invaders until he had led the child safely out of the pillaged town. The girl told him her name, Roseia. Hiraeth knew, at that moment, that the course of his life had changed. Although wealth had not been his aim, Hiraeth had amassed a considerable fortune. He purchased a modest home and set about Roseia’s education. During his adventures, he had come to know many wise and powerful wizards, brave and strong fighters, devout and good clerics, charismatic and persuasive bards. All were eager and willing to contribute to the education of the young child, and she drank in the knowledge as if she had found an oasis after being lost in the desert.
When Roseia came of age, the Kingdom was invaded, and the crown overthrown, by an evil and oppressive Warlord, Lazar the Broken. Although he had grown older, Hiraeth once again took up his arms and joined the resistance, the Argent Army. Although now, Roseia was by his side. Due to the training that Hiraeth had provided, Roseia was a force with which to be reckoned. She possessed skills in both arcane and martial arts, and quickly rose through the ranks to Commander, leading the Argent Army.
When the rebels overthrew Lazar, at the Battle of Faron, Roseia was quickly named Queen of Dreymore, and she took the thrown as sole monarch. Roseia was a fair and compassionate monarch. She enacted many laws that caused, not only her Kingdom, but her people, from the highest to the lowest born, to thrive. She was the shield of the weak, sword of the defenseless, loved by her people, and feared by their oppressors.
Hiraeth finally understood. Good deeds were not enough. They would have never been enough. His debt demanded that, like his father, Hireath put good into the world that would endure long after he was gone. Good that would reverberate through the strands of time, not because of what he had done, but because of the virtues that he had sent forth into the future. As he looked at Roseia on the throne, Hiraeth knew that his debt had finally been paid.

Age

52

Circumstances of Birth

Born of a low family and adopted by a family of Nobles

Birthplace

Durden's Warf

Current Residence

City of Faron

Gender

Male

Height

6' 2"

Weight

230