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Fane Wolvstrøm

In the world of Arkthan

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Fane, only a child of 6, had experienced much. Tieflings, by their very being, are seen with a suspicious eye at best and a mistrusting one at worst. To ignore the infernal relation between those of Tiefling heritage is generally a task many struggle to bear. Fane had not fully realised the glares. Fane had not fully realised the shy shuffling of those around his family. Yet one morning, prior to dawn, the fire of that heritage came to the home. It came in the form of drunken torch-wielding Empirians. Fane's father, Adal, woke him and his sister Hesa with the slamming open of a door joined by the scream of Furma - his mother. "Get boots on children, we're leaving." Ordered the elder Tiefling, his voice grave yet smooth. "Little ones, don't forget your capes." Furma's voice more frantic yet restrained.

Three sets of boots hit the mud behind the river-side farm, one refused. "Furma get to the lawmaker's house. Take heed of his words and do not let them out of your sight." The tone, exasperated and formal. Eloquent for one who tilled the wheat.  "I'll be fine. It's only a little fire." A small woodsman's axe in tow he disappeared around the side of the home. White paint glistening of the embers, with clarity, only gained from smooth consistent layering. The cackles and shouts of inebriated men were joined by a vicious cutting tone, sharpened steel of a thrown tool and as was told in the early morn hearing a visceral flame that served as a rebuke to the thrown bottles and fists.

Stone, though a common material, takes is a prideful place in the halls of lords. Coated with fineries such as rugs, banners and its most frequent decoration - nobility. An uncommon sight is that of two small children, held close by their mother. Mud to the rim of their boots and small capes with a thin delicate slice trailing to the lower back. Their tails had wrapped around the legs of their mother, as they had done before, whilst their father stood broadly as he hadn't done for an impossible amount of time. "Who started this fire." crowed the old figure. "They did." answered the remarkably calm tone. A nod was his answer, not directed at him but to the centre of the court itself - an act only instinctual after a lifetime of service. "And they burned themselves too I imagine, with moonshine and cloth made flame?". "No my lord. I did that." The calm voice respectfully replied. "Eye for an eye is not the laws of my land, you know that Adal." The lord's tone was noble only in name. Adal patiently waited for the last echo of his name to ring in the hall before responding. "To protect oneself, to protect one's family, to protect one's home. I did only what was needed, my lord." A man stood forward at the beckoning fingers of the Lord. A burn had seared through the beard the fellow had, through the dirt and flesh of his face, down past the muscle and charred the bone. "If I may ", an unfamiliar voice spoke forth as soon as the step of the man had hit the stone. "hands of hunters hold bows, hands of soldiers hold swords, this man's hands are more dangerous, true, but the act is the same. He did not invite these men, did not challenge them - as his testimony states - he sent his smalls ones to get the lawmaker with his wife. This is not the act of a cruel man, just a dangerous one." The clearly Empirian Knights hand rested on the pommel of a mace, shield still resting on his back. "I see no crime here." 

The next thing Fane remembers was the man speaking to his father in the hall. They spoke like friends but Adal confided to Furma that he did not know him. Many years had passed before Fane saw the sigil on the man's shield again, save the carvings he made of it on trees. The Gaze of Aspe is what he saw. He decided the Gaze of Aspe is what he wished to know.

Fane grew to learn more about the Tower of Aspe. When he first arrived there he saw the tower had many banners, quite a lot of stone, and no windows - a 'fact' that turned out to be intentionally incorrect. Windows, of classic design, enable transparent two-way viewing. Much like many things relating to Aspe, complete dual way clarity is not desired. There were many windows, in fact the Tower could see over the surrounding town's walls and over some of the local woodland with relative ease. Unlike most Knightly Orders, whose purpose is to be seen rectifying the societal ailment in which they have been charged to fix, Asperian Knights prefer that the issues are dealt with prior to them become publicly known. Though they do not skulk in shadows and will clearly and honestly speak the truth of who they are, to see more than a pair working publicly on a task is a rare sight indeed. 

Fane had learnt much in his training; tenants of Aspe, guiding laws on how to handle problems, but the unique thing he learned and prided above most things is that the Knight who spoke for his father was proud of his training as a fellow Knight and personal mentor. Julian had grown grey yet still spoke with the honesty he had that night. A firm gauntleted hand resting on Fane's shoulder became a more common occurrence, ever since Julian had taken Fane under his wing since he was a page. To say he recognised him did Fane's family no credit. Adal and Furma had written to Julian often as Fane grew up Julian responded when he could and wished to visit but only did so once. Being official business, as recruitment is, Julian was given leave to escort the boy to the tower. The boy stayed there for many years until the day came when he ventured out not as a boy, nor a page, but a full Knight of the Gaze of Aspe. 

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