Biography Aldric von Praven

My name is Aldric, son of Osric, the second last Earl of Praven, and this is my story.

As these lines are being committed to paper, dear reader, I find myself in the privy of a godless dive, beaten in the company of three, or rather two and a half, savage and boastful, if good-natured, scoundrels, with whom I am now bound by the close bonds of shared exploits and, occasionally, not so shared misdeeds. But first things first.

My story begins with my first conscious memory in a cosy tower room, when my father showed my three-year-old self the carved family tree of our ancestors. This was a long time ago and even though I can no longer remember my father’s face, I can hear the pride in his voice all the more clearly when he talks about our origins. At the time, I couldn’t understand what he meant and over the years, the pride in my heritage has turned into a mixture of nostalgia and contempt.

My father was a good soldier and believed that a commander should be able to wield his soldiers’ weapons and know his way around the country and the terrain. So I spent my boyhood and youth mainly practising marksmanship with bow and crossbow, which suited me, and sword fighting, which suited me less. This earned me the ridicule of many knights’ sons of the same age, which made me a loner. I liked to spend my free time in the forest or testing my climbing skills on the old north tower of the local castle. And so it was that one balmy summer night when I was 15, I sat on a ledge high up on the tower and had to watch as my family was betrayed by Duke Harlaus, my father’s treacherous feudal lord, and murdered by his troops. Blinded by rage and grief, I fell while climbing down and only regained my senses at dawn, which probably saved my life. The castle at home had been razed to the ground and in the ruins that had been my home, I found only a single coat of arms ring, which I have carried with me ever since so that one day I could shove it down Duke Harlaus’ throat and watch him die a miserable death.

From that day on, I lived a lot in the woods and made my living with casual labour, hunting and, to my shame, less socially acceptable pursuits. Some of the qualities I was brought up with worked in my favour, others were forgotten. Today, I only occasionally stand out among the common folk due to my tall stature of a good six feet and pass as a prowler and ranger.

Then as now, I am driven by the desire for revenge in quiet moments, but while the youthful Aldric learnt to survive, my travels took me far away, so that even today, despite my deadly dexterity, only dark dreams can bring me closer to my goal.

The loud rumble of a brawl interrupts my writing, so I must now put you off until next time, dear reader. If these are my last lines, please burn them, because I don’t want it to be said that the last Count of Praven bit the dust in a pub brawl!