By Walker Perkins
5’8” tall and 180 pounds, you are a compact, but well muscled youth. Dark hair and dark eyes complete the picture of dashing Damaran youth. A slim scar runs along the right side of your face that gives the impression of maturity.
Damarans respect those who demonstrate heroism and self-sacrifice and stand unflinchingly in the face of evil. Damaran society is intolerant of weakness or selfishness, viewing deeds in stark black or white. The moralistic nature of their society strongly shapes Damaran youth. Most youngsters follow in the path of their parents, subscribing to their strong moral fervor. Others rebel against the strictures and traditions of Damaran society and flee its constraints. The latter path accounts for the neverending tide of settlers emigrating to the borders of human settlement, the large numbers of Damarans who have made their way west into Chondathan held territories, and the small number of Damarans who turn to the worship of Demons.
Religion plays a central role in Damaran life, yet there is by no means a universality of belief. Although religious fervor is admired, individuals are judged by how they conduct themselves and the strength of their personal moral code. Class divisions are less noticeable than elsewhere in Faerûn, but those who have been judged morally unfit are strongly shunned by their peers. Many Damarans learn their trade during an apprenticeship at a church-run school before setting out into life, while others join a religious order, directly pledging themselves to a church. As they grow old, Damarans often return to the church of their youth, tithing much of their wealth to its coffers and living out their last years in service to their patron deity.
Damarans have a long adventuring tradition, reflecting the generations-long battle to reclaim the lands of the Easting Reach from the Demonic legacy of Narfell. Many youths, particularly those of noble blood, take up adventuring for a few years in order to prove themselves worthy of their titles. Those not in line to inherit great estates also do so in hopes of winning new lands and wealth for themselves, or in response of the crusading zeal of Damaran society. Arcane spell casters of all sorts are rare in Damaran society, reflecting a long-held suspicion of magic powers that are not bestowed by a deity. While wizards are generally accepted, sorcerers are looked upon with suspicion, for the sorcerous arts are thought to be a legacy of Demonic heritage.
You’re not really certain how old you are; no one is. You were found amidst the burning wreckage of your family’s wagons by Tyrran pilgrims and brought to The Waiting (the Temple of Tyr in Phlan). After a time you were adopted by a recent Damaran immigrant, Ragan Dvorak, and his family. Ragan has been a good father to you, and his wife and children have fully accepted you as family. You never doubted his love, or that of your adopted mother (Dmitra), and were well accepted by your two brothers and four sisters, but you always felt different or apart from the rest. Your father always told you that you had a duty to your fallen folk and that one day you must take up the sword against those that had “wantonly spilt ta blood of your kin.” He said that you had been fore-ordained by the gods to be a scourge against the lawless and murderers. You have always felt the weight of this duty upon you, as if it were etched on your bones. To help you meet your duty, your father always paid good coin for you to learn the way of the warrior. Of late he has come to call you his “Beloved Brasherem.” Brasherem translates from Damaran to mean “God-Warrior”. This is not like a Paladin who chooses to fight for the gods; you were chosen to fight by the gods.
Relations with others:
Having so grim a destiny clearly plotted out before you has left you with a sullen outlook, but with a verve for life. You know that you will likely one day die on the blade of an outlaw, and so you savor each day. You are characterized as deeply responsible and grim, but surprisingly spontaneous in your pleasures. You are not one to put things off, whether work or play.
In this, you find a kindred spirit in a local dwarf, Angorn the Black, and you often spend your free time with him. He is not nearly so dour as other dwarves you have met, and is very fond of pranks.
The elf, Elsanoth, is often a companion in merriment, but is hard to find when it comes to work or paying for ale, which irks you. Still, you know that you can trust him in a pinch. You sincerely wish that he wouldn’t spend so much time around your sister, Esvelle, but he does not seem to be interested in her as he is with most women. In fact, she is the only thing that he is always serious about.
Your sister, Esvelle, is a free spirit whom you find inspiring. She never really has a care in the world aside from making merry and spreading joy. Of all your siblings, you feel closest to her, perhaps because she is also adopted.
Your brother, Bartolous, has ever been something of an adversary. He always seems to seek his father’s approval, and his favored method is getting you in trouble. Still, he is your brother and being family is a very deep bond, with very deep responsibilities.
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