Judge Jredthys

Judge Jredthys
The Judge
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OOC Character Information
Main Job(s):	Judgemaster
Main Tradeskill:	Culinarian
Preferred Role:	Judge
Server:	Balmung
Status
Alignment:	Lawful Neutral
Reputation:	Slightly Infamous
Occupation:	Judge
Education:	Unknown
Marital Status:	Single
Sexuality:	Consciously Nonsexual
Guardian:	Nymeia, the Spinner
Free Company
None
Items Carried
• Greatsword "Verdict" • Judgemaster Armor • Judge Cards • Triple Triad Deck
Characteristics
Race:	Hyur?
Clan:	Highlander?
Age:	Old
Height:	7 fulm, 2 ilm
Weight:	327 ponze, not counting armor
Eyes:	Unknown
Hair:	Unknown
Complexion:	Unknown
Physical Build:	Unyielding Armored Wall
Notable Features:	Always Armored

Attributes
	Strength	█ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █		P.Defense	█ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █
	Dexterity	█ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █		M.Defense	█ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █
	Martial Prowess	█ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █		Intelligence	█ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █
	Magic Affinity	█ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █		Luck	█ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █

Judge Jredthys (16th Sun of the 5th Astral Moon) is a towering behemoth of an individual whose actual appearance is forever shrouded in a suit of ancient, rune-etched plate that seems almost like it is bolted to his flesh. He travels throughout Eorzea, serving the role of Judge - hearing cases and pronouncing Judgements under the apparent auspices of the leaders of the three cities. His black-and-white view on all things is rather polarizing, and his utter distaste of muddled or gray morality, thought, or lifestyle even more so. However, one can be assured that his verdicts will never be biased, and so he is still called upon time and time again to handle a variety of matters.

HE ALSO HAS A VERY IDENTIFIABLE MANNER OF SPEAKING.

Basic Info

Very little is publicly known about the mysterious, dark-armored Judge. His age, his actual appearance, where he came from, where he is going, all unknowns. What little information there is on him is derived solely from his looks and actions.

He is never seen without his armor in public, not even removing it to partake of food and drink - instead merely lifting the visor to take in his nourishment. Given his size and penchant for always remaining armored, he could easily be compared to the Dullahans - animated suits of armor that are rumored to be either a variety of ancient golem or lingering spirits unnaturally attached to their armaments. However, a careful eye would reveal that there is definitely something underneath the layers of black-hued steel, even if that something is unknown.

The Judge's actions are based almost completely on a black-and-white belief on what is "proper" that borders on zealous. Things are to be done a certain way, and people are to behave in a certain manner. While this clear-cut view on things makes him an excellent choice to oversee a court case, the fact that this belief bleeds so heavily into every other aspect of his life makes dealing with him a very unique, and sometimes obnoxious, experience. Past that, though, one might be able to find enclosed in that armor a soul that has seen many things over the years and lost much in the process... possibly even some (or most) of his own sanity.

Those able to sense aether might see another side of Jredthys as well. While he makes no visible display of being able to use magic in any form, his aetheric aura is sizable. In fact, one might even say it should belong to something even bigger than his already substantial seven-fulm frame. The more astute might also be able to gauge that it's old, very very old. Almost suspiciously so.

His companions are few and far between. The only constant one is the equally massive warhorse Bench that he is always seen astride when assisting Warren Castille at the Grindstone. The dark-haired, armored steed is of surprisingly sturdy temperament and seems to take its patrols around the various matches in stride despite all the chaos and combat - perhaps a fine showing of its training and lineage. Exactly how long this horse has lived, or if it is but the latest of a long line of Benches, is not known but it seems in good health and well tended to.

Likes ■ People doing what they're supposed to. ■ Things doing what they're supposed to. ■ Triple Triad.

Dislikes ■ Gray, whether the color or morality. ■ Rulebreakers. ■ Speaking of the Dragonsong War.

Other ■ Favorite Food: Knight's Bread ■ Favorite Drink: Perfect 2:1 Ratio Martini ■ Favorite Color(s): Black and White

Appearance & Personality

Quirks

Very exacting and UNIQUE manner of speech. Often refers to things as "Recommended" or "Forbidden."

Always sits up straight. Always. And sleeps flat on the bed, arms folded over his chest like a very disapproving corpse.

His view of proper is... rather skewed. For example, it's the "proper" thing for a cutpurse to rob someone of their gil. However, it is also "proper" that they understand that they will be punished if they are caught.

Will arbitrarily set rules in various situations if allowed to do so. This can include simple conversation or even in the preparation of his food. Breaking of even these oddball rules will upset him, with the severity resulting in differing levels of Judge Card.

Strengths

Years and years of combat knowledge and general wisdom, though the latter is often questionable.

Physically strong and durable, almost inhumanly so.

Never takes sides, and approaches all cases from a perfectly neutral position.

Unshakable in his resolve and belief.

Weaknesses

Predictable. Horribly, horribly predictable. His "proper" approach means that one can easily figure out his thought processes and how he will react to situations given enough study.

Utter garbage at being reassuring or comforting. He might try to console someone if it seems the proper thing to do, but his monotone statements don't really help much.

Socially incompetent, as one might expect of someone of his personality. If he were interesting in finding himself a mate, let alone making friends, he would certainly be hard-pressed to do so.

A very angry drunk. While his tolerance is quite high, Judge getting plastered can result in a lot of shouting, violence, or likely both.

Biography

The "Early" Years

THE FOLLOWING IS SPOILERS FOR JUDGE AS A CHARACTER. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Show text

Ordsormr ("Word Serpent") joined the Dragonsong War over 500 years ago, fighting against the Ishgardians alongside his Dravanian brethren. His unique form of magic - "Command Words" said in an archaic and difficult Dravanian dialect that could compel the Sons of Man to obey his words - made him a dangerous foe on the battlefield. A "Stop" command could freeze an opponent in their tracks to be torn to shreds by his allies, and "Run" could send battle-hardened veterans fleeing from the front lines. While such magic couldn't work on multiple targets without drastically increasing the chance for the enemy to resist it, his abilities made him unmatched in taking out high-priority targets.

However, there was one whom he could never use his Command Words on. Following the footsteps of Shiva not long before, many Heretics joined the fight against their Ishgardian kin, and one in particular stole Ordsormr's heart: a female Elezen named Auflonne Rielaut. They fought alongside each other in many battles, her magics keeping the rabble away while Ord dealt with the priority target. Before long, they spent much of their time off the battlefield together as well. He eventually took her as his mate.

Things took a bad turn one sun, however. A platoon of dragoons had been specially dispatched to take down Ordsormr's group of Dravanians and Heretics. Well aware of the Word Serpent's powers, they came with ears stuffed with gauze and gave orders through a highly-trained series of gestures. Having relied so much on his Words to break the lines, Ord's kin crumpled under the well-coordinated assault. That is, until one of them had the bright idea to use Auflonne and the other Heretics as hostages. One would think that such a tactic wouldn't work against the battleworn Ishgardians, but this was a time where Heretics were a relatively new thing and the Ishgardian people had not yet fully come accustom to hating those of their own who had joined the enemy.

As such, the remainder of Ordsormr's group was able to escape with what little hesitation the tactic provided. The Word Serpent was furious at his compatriot for using his mate amongst the hostages and confronted the older and larger Dravanian. The latter easily overpowered Ord, since his Command Words had barely any effect on his own kin. Snatching Auflonne up once more, the elder Dravanian held her squirming form in front of her mate.

"They are but the Sons of Man," he said. "A useful tool, but nothing more."

And, before Ord's eyes, he killed her. In a rage, Ordsormr lashed out at his elder with unbridled ferocity and the two clawed and bit at each other as they tumbled over the icy ground. Ordsormr might have died along with his mate that sun if the Ishgardian unit had not caught up to them then, allowing the smaller wyrm to slay in elder in that one brief moment of distraction. The taste of the other Dravanian's throat still fresh in his mouth and the crumpled form of his mate clutched tenderly in his talons, Ordsormr was set upon not only by the Ishgardians but his kin as well. So he did the only thing he could.

He ran.

The next few cycles had Ordsormr fleeing from refuge to refuge, seeking to hide from both Dravanians and Sons of Man alike. All the while, the events that led to this exile played over and over in his head. This had happened because he had done wrong, because she had done wrong. He should not have fallen in love with her, she should not have betrayed her people for him. It hadn't been right. It hadn't been... it hadn't been proper.

Eventually, Ordsormr had little choice but to flee the frigid but verdant landscape of Coerthas and journey further south to escape his pursuers. Over time, the assaults on him grew fewer and fewer - the two forces too busy dealing with each other to continue fruitlessly sending troops after a lone outlier, whom many started to wonder existed in the first place. After all, both armies were mighty, so how could one who was an enemy of both survive for so long? And, as such, the Word Serpent and his strange Art slowly faded into obscurity. With little left of his legacy other than his mate being mentioned in passing along with all those other heretics that turned against Ishgard.

But even though Ordsormr had managed to elude both factions, things did not improve for him overly much. Years of flight and panic and skewed self-reflection had done little for his mind. While he had enough wherewithal to not return to those who would slay him outright, he still desired some sort of penance for violating the Order of Things. Yet what could he do? To his kin he was a traitor, and to the Sons of Man he was a great beast to be feared and slain.

So, he decided, if he would be feared - at least he could seek to ensure those that feared him behaved as they ought. After all, it was only proper that the Sons of Man fear a creature such as him. And so he descended upon a smattering of small villages that marked the rocky stretches of Northern Thanalan. He became unto a tyrant to them, using his form and his powerful Words to enforce obedience and order, where every person did as they were supposed to do, what was proper.

It should be no surprise, then, that the villager eventually bound together and rose up against him. Led by a strong and courageous woman, they assaulted his lair in the mountains overlooking their homes. And, whilst Ordsormr was powerful enough to lay such shoddy hodgepodge of villagers low with little effort, the woman leading them reminded him overmuch of his lost mate. Unable to even voice his Words against what seemed to be Auflonne's spiritual successor, the Word Serpent again fled into the night. And the villages celebrated and feasted, freed from his oppressive yoke.

As for Ordsormr, his thoughts turned inward again as he sought a new shelter. Who was that woman, and why did she remind him so of his lost Elezen love? Why had she appeared in front of him, taking away the Order he had brought to the people? He had only sought to ensure they did what was proper, to avoid suffering the mistakes that he had for violating this most natural law. He was only seeking to atone for both himself and the lost love that the woman had so reminded him of.

What had he done wrong?

The "Proper" Way

It took many more suns of reflecting before he came to a realization. Perhaps it had been a warning, a sign - brought to him in the form of his lost love. While it was not wrong in and of itself to desire that others do what was right and proper, it was not something that could be forced upon them. They had to need it - to want it - for such things to truly take root. His ways had been rejected out of hand because it was only proper that a people rise up against one who acted like a tyrant.

If wanted to aid them, guide them along the path of what was proper, it would have to be by their terms. By their Ways an using their Rules. He should, only if so asked, pass verdict on their actions like a judge in a courtroom. Yes, that sounded proper - he would become a Judge. And in doing so bring Order to those cases he presided over.

He could not do it as he was, however, for his form was strange and frightening to the peoples of Eorzea. And so, using what little magic he knew, he took on a new shape, which he shrouded further in a suit of dark armor to better disguise himself amongst the masses. And with this new form, he took on a new name. He would be known as Jredthys - Judge Jredthys - and, should he be called upon to do so, he would pass Judgement on any matters placed under his purview. In that way would be teach what was proper, in that way would he atone for the sins of his past.

What followed was years of wandering amongst the cities, seeking to right wrongs and set people on the "correct" path through the laws set in place there. When given permission, he would impose laws of his own - some seemingly inane and random, perhaps due to his aged mind - and provide swift and concise judgement on all cases brought to him. While he never became overtly famous for his deeds, word spread enough of a strange man in Black Armor who would hear any and all cases and provide an unbiased verdict.

Over time, Jredthys managed to acquire official sanctions to handle such matters. Disputes settled between pirates gained him clout in Limsa, handling matters of coin and ownership bought him a place in Ul'dah, and serving as mediator between the denizens of the Twelveswood and the Gridanians on a few rare occasions planted seeds of support there. Many of these decrees were made granting him such status for as long as he lived, with the expectation that he would not live that long at all given his profession and the enemies he would surely make in it. He instead outlived many of those who gave the sanctions, and to this day still possesses paperwork penned by many who have long since returned to the aether.

He was not there are Carteneau, for he had not been asked to be there and he was loathe to return to the field of battle regardless. However, it still served as an impetus for him even though he saw not the Elder Primal Bahamut and felt not the scorching heat of his angry flames. Eorzea - and perhaps Hydaelyn as a whole - had been broken, reshaped, by what had happened there. Now, more than ever, a Judge was needed to help rebuild and put things back onto the path of what was right and proper. And so he continued his wanderings, seeking to bring Order to the chaotic aftermath.

Wanderings that brought him to Ul'dah, wherein he observed the Grindstone for the very first time. A proper, orderly way for people to fight with no one being killed in the process. It called out to something deep within that heavy armor, and... for once... Jredthys felt like he was somewhere he belonged. He sought out the leader of the event, the Arbiter, and offered his assistance in overseeing the event, and was pleased when the Highlander assented. Perhaps overseeing this sort of orderly combat could help mend the scars of war that still lingered beneath the armor, and the beneath the flesh that was encased within it.

Miscellaneous

Rumors ◢ Common Rumors (Easily overheard) ■ "Who, the tin can? I've seen him around here 'n there. Kinda hard to miss him." -- Ruby Exchange Merchant ■ "'Judge', huh? Pah. Self-righteous lump of iron is more like it. We solve our own problems, don't need some armor-plated nitwit sticking his nose in it." -- Limsan Dockworker ■ "I don't like him, but I'd rather be stuck dealing with him over the Greenwrath." -- A Wood Wailer ◢ Moderate Rumors (Moderately difficult to overhear) ■ "... He's still coming around? Gods, how old is he? I remember him seeing him back when I first joined the Blades. The armor must be to hide all the wrinkles, gyahaha." -- A Retired Blade ◢ Rare Rumors (Very difficult or rarely overheard) ■ "Northern Thanalan holds many tales of hardship and bravery. One such story speaks of a monstrous tyrant who ruled over a lowly mountain village, before a brave woman rose up and drove him away." -- Sharalyan Historian ◢ PC Rumors (Rumors from the character's of other players) Please feel free to add your own rumors!

Relations ♥ Romantic Interest    ♥ Platonic Love     ● Good Standing     ● Poor Standing