Edmont Sondraix

Edmont Sondraix
Gender	Male
Race	Elezen
Clan	Wildwood
Citizenship	Ishgard
Age	34
Height	Six fulms, Seven ilms
Weight	190 ponz
Profession	Blade for Hire
Patron Deity	Halone
Server	Balmung

A Chevalier gone Crooked. Torn from his homeland and branded a heretic. With tarnished morals and his sense of duty tuned to serve only him, he lives off the jobs others would turn away and shakes hands with the shadows to further his own goals.

After all, it is only a task. No job denied, so long as the coin fits the deed.

Appearance

Nobility seeps through his pores like a sickness, tainting everything it touches with its poisonous influence. Although he may try to hide it, his dress and mannerisms point towards it with painful translucence.

His clothes are pressed and maintained, armor shined and buffed to its finest. The only persistent damage is the emblem that once graced his gauntlets, scratched and clawed away to leave only a shadow of itself behind.

Peel back the finery and armor, the trappings of the proper and patrician, and left behind is a form that was built for battle and forged through zealous fury. His flesh is a tapestry of scars, woven from conflict and bloodshed. Body held together by sinuous muscle, and while lacking the pure bulk or string of a Highlander or Roegadyn it is made up for through grace and agility.

History

The Formative Years:

Born to as the eldest child to unremarkable parents, he began what was to be a normal life. As a young man of his standing, he grew up with martial training in the forefront of his life. A dream of defending Ishgard from the Dravians, of being considered as one of the most loyal knights.

But every day he grew he cast a larger shadow across his younger brother, Aldoix. A bookworm as he was, his attention was turned more towards the stars above. And while he looked up his father stared down, upset with his weakness and refusal to pursue combat as his life. Slowly resentment built, and Aldoix set his mind on removing the source of the shadow that loomed.

The Exile:

Shortly after turning twenty-five, Edmont had begun to feel accomplished in all he had done. He had experienced combat, both with heretics and dragons in small doses, and his prowess had been recognized with gifting of rank. Little attention was paid to the small escort task that he had been given.

It was not the danger on the roads that should have been feared that day. Upon his return, guards stood at the ready. His room in the settlement had been searched, draconian artifacts recovered and brought forth. The caravan he escorted, unscheduled. It did not exists, and one could only assume his assistance was lent to a fellow heretic.

From a window above, Aldoix grinned. It was now he who stood before the sun, and the shadow he cast was daunting.

The Escape:

Edmont stood before the abyss, guards closing in around him. Certain imprisonment awaited, the land he had so zealously fought for had turned against him in a moment.

Run! Screamed every voice inside his skull. And run he did, turning to face the frozen wasteland of Coerthas his feet carried him towards freedom in exile. Arrows fell in his wake, blades slashed against his armor. While his body was broken and torn his resolve stood strong, carrying him through the Shroud to Gridania.

Little time was spent licking his wounds, as he knew patrols would be dispatched and no place so close to the Holy See was safe. His eyes fell on Limsa Lominsa, what better place to hide than among the pirates and pillagers.

Knight to Knave:

One can only live so long off the kindess of others. Hunger and desperation can change a man for the worse, and such change comes swiftly.

Brigandry came easily to him. Few traveling merchants were willing to cross blades with an armored assailant on the road. With his face hidden he struck at these citizens, filling his own coffers while gaining reputation. His well spoken demeanor the only attribute his victims could cling to.

What once was done out of necessity, began to shift into pleasure and greed. With his pockets bulging at the seems he continued to stalk, moral compass slowly going askew. Tasks taken that lead him down darker paths. Murder was the next natural step, so long as the bottom line justified the effort.

He continues to wander the southern reaches of Eorzea to practice his trade, hunting for jobs not posted to the public. His focus remains on his own pockets, yet every now and again a longing glance is spared towards Ishgard...

Characteristics

• Nicknames:
• Age:
  • Nameday:
• Gender:
  • Sexuality:
  • Marital Status:
• Alignment:
• Height:
• Weight:
• Body:
• Hair:
• Eyes:
• Skin:
• Clothing:

Areas of Expertise

• Martial:
• Crafting:
• Other:

Other Notes

Religion

He once was a devout of Halone. His life focused around the teachings of the Holy See, but since his exile and rise to criminal success that zeal has faded into doubt.

Rumours

The following rumours can be heard about Edmont, primarily around Limsa Lominsa and surrounding lands.

Common rumours

• "Pleasant fellow. Seems like a proper man, through and through."
• "Pretty sure tha' one has a stick eight fulms long rammed up his arse. Nev'r have I seen such an uptight bloke."

Uncommon rumours

• "Heard he is a mercenary. Never seen him lingering around the boards though."

Rare rumours

• "Heard he was on the run. Fellow was poking around Drowning Wench asking about, and his accent definitely wasn't from these parts."
• "That one has blood on his hands. But you ain't heard that from me."

Known Haunts

You might have run into or otherwise know NAME from: