Zia Millhaven

Physical Characteristics:

6’2” tall, 190 lbs, broad shoulders

Short brown hair trimmed neatly

Brown piercing eyes

Fair complexion

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Biography

Zia grew up as the youngest of the sons of the Millhaven family, a once influential and respected family of the southern regions, but a name that is no longer recognized.

 

Living in the fringe of civilization, the influence of Empire was hardly felt and law was scarce in the southern parts. Bandits ran rampant and strength was crucial for survival. The Millhavens had produced generations of respected and soldiers and had established as the family the townsfolk came to seek shelter in. His father instilled values of honor, physical strength, loyalty, generosity, and filial duty to his sons. From as early as he can remember, Zia was trained in the art of combat and battle along with his brothers and instructed to help those in need. Although not built as powerful and enormous as his competitive brothers, he had a strong constitution and an agile mind. He was able to more than stand his ground whenever the brothers dueled, but it was his keen mind and ability to calmly analyze and strategize that was his true strength.

 

Skirmishes were common, and he experienced his first kill at the early age of fifteen. It was the year of the plentiful harvest during the night of the full red moon when the forest bandits struck. As yells and screams filled the night, his father and brothers ran towards the noise, but young Zia grabbed his sword and headed towards the family barn, deducting it must be food that they were after. There he encountered a bandit loading up a wagon full of his family’s corn. It was a short bout and the bandit was no match for the trained Zia. Upon being disarmed, the bandit raised his hands and yelled, “I surrender, Millhaven!” But as the red night illuminated his opponent’s face, Zia recognized the gaunt face as that of a townsfolk, a boy not much older than himself. A flash of surprise was quickly replaced a scowl of judgement as Zia whispered, “punishable by death” and mercilessly struck down the boy. It was a bloody and costly night for the town. Many of the townsfolk lost their stock for the winter and sought assistance from the Millhavens. Despite his protests, Zia’s father and his brothers squandered half of their stash away as Zia looked on in disdain.

 

Zia continued to mature as a man and a soldier, and him and his family thrived and grew in influence. It was years later when the tragedy occurred. Zia and his whole family were making the long journey back home through the woods after marrying off their precious baby sister to a neighboring town gentleman. Home was only a few hours march away but the children were tired from the long day of traveling. They had just finished their meal and Zia and his father were tending the horses when they heard the low rumbling of footsteps and the distant glow of torchlight creeping towards them. His father’s look of curiosity suddenly turned into alarm. He yelled to Zia, “It’s the Blackfire bandits! Go get help, we’ll try to hold them off here!” as he rushed back to the camp. Zia hesitated for a second, surprised by the alarm in his always staunch father’s voice, but training kicked in and he headed west towards home. Zia was ready to evade the first onslaught of arrows as his path led him within range of their frontlines, but the approaching bandits paid no heed to him. Instead, they marched on towards the Millhaven’s camp, torches lit bright declaring their presence. Each man was decorated with an intertwined black and red sash tied at the neck, fluttering ominously as they eerily stomped closer to his family.

 

Zia rode hard into town, he knew his family would not hold out long, for he remembered hearing about the Blackfires as a child. But everywhere he went, his desperately pleas of help were met with downward gazes as the folks were too afraid to voluntarily fight against the Blackfire bandits. Just as he was about to head back alone, Zia noticed a pack of horses by the tavern. He rushed in to find dozens of able bodied mercenaries fraternizing by the bar. Although they looked intrigued by the challenge of confronting the Blackfires, they were all deaf years once they realized Zia had no wealth or bounty to offer for their troubles. Realizing no help was to be found, he braced himself and rushed back alone, ready to die with his family. But it was already too late. No one was left alive, every one of his precious family were lying lifeless on the ground, even his little nieces and nephews. Each body was ransacked bare of its possessions, heads and limbs cut clean from its body. By the time Zia found his father’s head, his feelings of dread and despair had morphed into a raging torrent of anger and disdain. Zia shouted, “Foolish old man, look what your generosity has accomplished! Not a damned single soul answered my begging! Curse the bandits and curse the useless trash!”

 

After doing what he could for the remains of his loved ones, Zia rode off to the north, determined to succeed where his father had failed. He wanted to become powerful and be known. To rule with strength and wealth, and to gain sufficient power to punish those he deemed unworthy of living.

 

-

 

Precursor to the Opening Scene

 

After departing his hometown, Zia spent the next four years slowly traveling northward.

 

His first stop was Trovinos City. There he learned how naïve and ignorant he was of the world. He learned about Dovak, the god of martial prowess. There were some powerful followers of Dovak in the city, whose prowess he was able to witness and admire during the strange duels which occurred frequently in the city. Zia was intrigued, but never participated, as such singular prowess and individual stage was not what he needed.

 

At Trovinos, he enlisted as the city guard and spent a few quiet months as a sentinel at the northern gates. It was a rather peaceful and mundane post, but Zia did get to see the how wide and strange the world was. Although the travelers were mostly human traders and mercenaries, he would every now and then notice the tall and slender figure of elves. They were very solitary beings, traveling alone or in small groups, keeping to themselves. Every so often, Zia would also see lines of short statured odd looking people tending the wealthy nobles and famed warriors who frequented Trovinos. He mostly felt pity for the poor creatures, as their ragged appearance contrasted vastly to the extravagant appearance of the wealthy and famous. Such a waste and improper allocation of one’s resources really.

 

Zia did not stay long in Trovinos, but was soon drawn to Hovosen City, where great fighters and adventurers were said to gather. There he enlisted in a mercenary guild, and spent the next few years mostly as a guard accompanying merchants to Kossen. Compared to the far south where Zia hailed from, it was a relative peaceful region. But raids did occur every now and then, and Zia was slowly gaining reputation as the dependable protector, having saved numerous lives with his dependable longsword and buckler.

 

However, Zia was not content being a mere guard protecting someone else’s life. He was growing restless and wanted more. It had been a fruitless few weeks of wandering around Hovosen, visiting various taverns and guild posts, rejecting the numerous guard positions, but looking for worthy quests. None caught his eye though, and Zia was deep in thought, aimlessly roaming the rigid streets of Hovosen, when a small commotion caught his ears. There was a small crowd of onlookers watching a performance by a slender musician. He was singing tales of great heroes of the north. The glorious battles they fought, and impossible odds they faced, and how their fame and wealth spread far and wide. Zia did not stay long to watch the end of the performance of the bard, as music and fairy tales were of no interest to him.

 

As Zia headed back to his quarters, he began to remember a few stories. He was often accompanied by veteran guards during his jobs, who whispered of great adventures and mysterious threats to the north. Zia had not pried further, for he was not interested in traveling so far north, where his future power and influence would hold little meaning to accomplishing his goals. But as Zia began to wonder, he realized the answer was simple. It was time to head north.

 

-

 

After the Bandit Ambush

 

As the panicked soldier started off through the pass, Zia took a few brief moments to collect himself and followed after him.

The Grey Raiders was a name long familiar to Zia. They were a notorious group from the south, and he had skirmished with their scouting bands numerous times during his guard duties. They were a dangerous and ruthless bunch, but nothing he thought he couldn’t handle given a competent group. But it had taken him by surprise to encounter them this far north, enough to muddle his usually steady aim with his trusty longsword. “What are they doing here?” Zia wondered. “There may be more laying in ambush up ahead… what if the Blackfire bandits are here” he worried.

Zia paused for a split second and shook his head, realizing his logic may have been derailed from the excitement of battle. “There is no way the Blackfires are up here.” he told himself, for he hadn’t heard that name whispered in years. Zia also knew in the back of his mind that he was not ready to challenge them yet, not by a long shot…

Zia focused on his surroundings as he tried to force these thoughts out of his mind. Zia glanced around to notice that every one of the rag-tag travelers he was in charge of was still with him.

They fought well, way beyond what his initial expectation of them was anyway. He had been accompanied by clerics and bards in the past during huge expeditions, and it seemed like the elven bard and female cleric could more than hold their own weight. There was something off about the female though, but Zia couldn’t quite place his finger on it. The agility and ruthlessness of the elvish monk was a pleasure to witness, especially since he hadn’t seen elves fight up so close before. However, it was the little man warrior who impressed Zia the most. He never expected such a little being to hold so much courage and strength, and realized he would have to stop viewing the gnome as a pitiable creature of servitude.

“Well, they might be worthwhile resources to have around,” Zia mused as they headed towards the frontlines.

 

--

 

Past: Letter to Sister Lynne. Sent a few weeks after the massacre of the Millhavens.

 

Dear Lynne,

 

I hope this letter finds you well and not too full of tears...

 

I am alive, and I am alright. I’ve just arrived at Trovinos City and might be staying here a while.

 

The few loyal surviving house servants and what remains of our family heirlooms should have reached you by now. I have just my few favorite possessions to make me road worthy, the rest I’ve arranged for the servants to take with them to join your new household. They will be there to help serve and protect you; your husband should understand.

 

You must have heard by now about what happened, and you must be stricken with grief and plagued with so many questions. I’m so sorry I’m not there to comfort you, but I couldn’t stay. As to what really happened… we were ambushed on our way back home from leaving you with your husband. It was the Blackfires. Father and all our brothers and people fought hard, but everyone fell and only I survived.

 

I know you have a big fragile heart, but please live a happy new life. We are warriors, and everyone fell while fighting valiantly. And please forget about our hometown and never go back there, for it is a place best forgotten. I hope to erase it from the map someday…

 

Anyway, I will be away for a while. There are things I must accomplish, but I must grow and learn first. Please be safe and make a flourishing family of your own. You’re in good hands, your husband is a capable and honorable man.

 

I’ll write to you again soon.

 

Your loving brother,

 

Zia

 

-

 

Post Cave Expedition Reflections

 

Zia marveled at the javelin in his hand. It was intricately designed, slender, and perfectly balanced, the well polished metal glowing red from the campfire. When he gripped it hard as if to throw it, he could feel some kind of energy tingling throughout his body. It caused him to shudder slightly as he was not used to the sensation yet. “Well, I best learn this weapon before I harm anyone,” Zia thought to himself.

 

The forray into the caverns was quite the enlightening experience for Zia. So much magic and strange creatures and foes that he never faced before… and much of it beyond his understanding. As soon as he laid his hands on it, the javelin did feel like a superbly crafted weapon, but it transforming into a bolt of lightning as it pierced the walking corpses completely took him by surprise. He was impressed by the destruction it wrought on the zombies. However, the might and rush of adrenaline Zia experienced from demolishing the animated corpses was completely dwarfed by the dread and malice he felt from the unknown foes from beyond the doors. Zia was just relieved that they were able to save Captain Loped and the caravan folks and make it out of there alive.

 

Sitting around the campfire and finally catching his breath, Zia could feel his chest swell with excitement. There was so much to experience and so much to learn! Heading north was definitely the right choice.

 

 

Post Mountainside Excursion Reflections

 

“This was a total waste of time and abandonment of my duties,” Zia berated himself as he stared down the hillside and into darkness. He was on watch as the rest of his companions were getting some rest. He glanced at the campfire, a remnant and a stark reminder of their rather bewildering encounter with Urr. A thought which instantly started to give Zia a headache, for most of it was ramblings of a seemingly mad man making light of him and his companions. And who was this tyrant to be wary of? A bandit or a ruthless ruler up north? Zia couldn’t think of anyone specific.

 

Zia looked yonder towards the direction of the caravan. He could see faint glimmers of light, and a sense of urgency and dread began to grow in his chest. He realized it was a mistake to separate from the caravan. “Exhaustion and frustration must have clouded my better judgement” Zia thought. “I should have known better than to listen to the inexperienced gnome and head up this mountain to nowhere. The only way out of the pass and this mess is to punch through the North to Daeledus Keep.”

 

Specific assignments for the guard assignment for the caravan was unclear and extremely unorganized. But somehow, one way or another, keeping this group safe had unofficially become his charge, and Zia was trying his best. But his main duty was to follow the orders of his commanding officer, and Captain Loped’s last order to was march on with the caravan. Even if Zia didn’t think it was the safest course of action for his group, and even though there were dissenting voices, he should have obeyed and stayed with the caravan.

 

“Well, nothing I can do about it now in the middle of the night with everyone asleep. Best make sure to keep them safe tonight and save my strength. Tomorrow, we’ll make haste and report back” Zia thought to himself as he continued scanning the darkness for the Shadows.

 

---

 

Daledus Keep Battle

 

“Enough lives have been lost already, I’m glad we were able to get to Tift and this brave young one,” Zia thought to himself as he watched the caravan guard drag the boy to safety. Zia’s actions had surprised even himself, for it was not in his nature to recklessly charge in. He had been itching for action for a while, and Zia realized how agitated and frustrated he had been with all his absence and inaction while Captain Loped died, the Bard charged ahead to scatter the shadows, and the Domuses and the brave young ones of the Yovich clan take the lead in demolishing the watch towers.

Zia surveyed the battlefield as he took a few seconds to catch his breath, having almost fallen face flat when his foot caught a wooden plank when he hurdled over the debris. For reasons uncertain, Zia noticed that his senses were heightened and he was able to notice the predicament and positioning of his allies and the undead foes. Various different path options and different strategies rushed through his mind as his eyes took in all the details. “Must be the adrenaline,” Zia thought to himself and as he tightened his grip on the magical javelin and buckler  and charged towards the giant lumbering undead.

 

 

Daledus Fortress Market Transaction 7/7/17

Upon returning to the square from his scouting of the Keep, Zia notes that his friends are still being captive audience to the Bartram trader. He observes his friends with mild amusement when one of the displayed items catches his eye.

Zia takes a few steps closer to examine it and asks, “This appears to be a ring of protection? How much for it?”

“Yes it is, and it is more than you can affo...” Bartram scoffs automatically without looking up, then pauses as he scans Zia up and down. “I’m not much of a weapons expert, but that’s a mighty fine looking javelin you got there. How about a trade?”

“No. This is not up for sale” Zia firmly declines as he gently places a hand over the javelin.

“That’s too bad,” sighs Bartram as he turns his attention back to the overly-eager-to-spend fools.

Zia takes a moment to take a closer look at the wide variety of items displayed in front of him, and offers, “I will be traveling to interesting places with these fine companions of mine” gestures at his friends, “I’ll return once I find something of note to trade with.” Then half to himself, Zia mutters, “It’s unfortunate the floating eye tentacle monster did not have anything of note when she and I slew it,” as he glances towards Illiana.

Bartram perks up at the mention of tentacles with eyes and immediately asks, ”Floating black vicious monster with eyes at the end of its four tentacles?? And you guys slew it!? Do you have its eyes with you?”

“Eyes? Why would I carry such disgusting things” Zia responds confusedly.

Bartram groans and slaps his forehead as he mutters, “stupid, stupid, stupid!” He takes a moment to regain his composure and offers to Zia, “If you were able to slay such a formidable monster, than you should be able to gather some interesting materials for me. Do harvest some exquisite body parts the next time you slay wicked monsters and bring it back to me. I”ll take those and whatever gold you have now as payment for the ring.”

"Sounds reasonable… Here is 800 gold pieces for the ring. I agree to provide you with raw materials from my travels." Zia completes the transaction by lightly slicing his thumb and stamping it onto the agreement parchment Bartram had deftly spread out on a crate. “I trust you will measure the value of the goods I’ll be providing you accurately.” Zia warns Bartram as he places the ring carefully in his pouch and walks off the square.