Alpha Run Michael

Michael Aerwingal

Michael's Portrait

Name

Michael Aerwingal

Gender

Male

Age

16

Height

5' 0"

Weight

126

Race

Human Half Celestial

Hair color

Black

Skin color

White

Eye color

Brown

Class(es)

2 Paladin / 8 Fighter (3 Half Celestial Template)

Deity

Virton

Family

• Mother: Armatt
  • Celestial Cleric
  • Origin Dreadland
• Father: Cyrus Aerwingal
  • Human Paladin
  • Origin Balinden

Michael's (Tragic) Back Story

My early life was never spent in one place for very long. My parents continued their own adventures, keeping me in tow. I strove to grow up to be strong like my parents. I began following the path of the paladin in my father's footsteps at about the age of 10.

Unfortunately in my early age I was over confident. While I was attempting to prove I could have my own adventures (age 12), several of my parent's enemies took advantage of the situation, overpowered me, and took me hostage. They laid a trap for my parents using me as the lure.

I never really found out what happened to my parents. My captors just thanked me for aiding them in getting rid of them. I've been searching for the truth ever since, but I'm afraid that they are beyond death.

Knowing that it was my weakness and overconfidence in my abilities that caused my loss, I decided that I must become strong enough to protect myself and those being oppressed by evil. Unfortunately that wasn't going to be happening as long as I was captive.

After some time they decided that I was too much of an annoyance to keep around. They decided to hold a public execution of several of the prisoners to bolster their group's moral. They thought that it would be amusing to publicly humiliate and kill a white winged "celestial". So I was to be their finishing act.

I was brought out onto a platform. They used whips and clubs to beat me to the ground. They tore my clothes off and nailed me to a wall, wings out-streched. Two men picked up swords and they stood in position to cut off my wings. It was then that I saw a vision of a man fall from the sky and land in front of me. The swords of the men landed upon the ground at the same time. I awoke in a hospital (healing temple, whatever) with visions of my savior wielding a sword with such skill and force as my only memory of what had occurred. I felt that I now knew the strength that I must achieve.

(In reality, my character was saved by a large posse. This is something that my character should never realize.) I've spent the past 4 years putting my efforts into the art of swordplay. I practiced my skills by protecting those that I found in need. I was compelled to prevent anyone from having the same fate I had.

In recent time I may have taken up as a position of protector for a town that has been suffering from the oppression of an evil source.