Gregor Tusklison ys Eidrengrad

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What is known about Gregor:

Gregor is an exceptionally charismatic and charming man of Vos descent. He believes he is the last of his bloodline, and bears a mysterious bloodmark of his clan. Gregor has a strong sense of honor, and a brilliant tactical mind that makes him able to hold his own in any fight.

Uncertain of his family’s true fate, Gregor is searching for a way to restore his lost status and uncover the truth about what happened to his clan.

Freezing rain poured over eves and sluiced down the muddy streets of Eidrengrad, undermining the rough-cut beams laid across the narrow track to prevent the all-important merchants' carts - like the one in which the boy currently rode, concealed under the cooling weight of a pair of corpses - from bogging down in the ever-present muck. Gregor's vision blurred and swam with tears as he felt drops of blood, hot in the frozen northern air, trickle down across his cheek, and watched them fall steaming from the numb tip of his nose to mingle with the mud and slush. With silent dread, he wondered if the blood was his own...

In their time, the Tusklisons of Eidrengrad were among the first and greatest nobles of the southern borderlands. Emerging from the wake of war, they fostered trade and founded merchant outposts which served both to enhance the lives of their fellow Vosgaarders, and enrich the southern merchants who came north to trade with them.

Over decades, the settlements they established grew into towns, even cities, and the family rose to power in its own right, but in the end their great political and financial assets proved insufficient to protect against the one threat they had most dearly hoped never to face – an armed invasion by their own, savage countrymen.

Sixteen years ago, a force of northerners lead by a towering, cowled figure referred to only as The Eidolon swept over their holdings with ruthless, mechanical efficiency, and wrested control of all the Tusklisons had wrought from the hands of its creators.

On a moonless autumn night, the raiders swept into the city of Eidrengrad and stormed the lightly defended keep, seizing all those trapped inside. Amongst the entire Tusklison family, only one member – the family’s youngest son Gregor, an eleven year old boy who had been in the city visiting the home of his elderly and ailing teacher – escaped the attack.

As the alarm bells rang, the boy’s frail mentor quickly bundled the family’s scion away, as if already prepared for such an eventuality, and smuggled him safely into the hands of an ostensibly friendly merchant factor from the distant west. The old man would die within days of the attack, but not before seeing his charge safely out of the enemy’s reach.

Gregor nodded respectfully to his opponent, graceful in victory. He had learned the gambit he'd used from his old teacher master Kierel, who had always said that games of strategy were a whetstone for a sharp mind. The young man suppressed a frown of regret as he recalled his old teacher's lessons, but he refused to let himself wish his mentor alive again. Such wishes were folly, and even considering their fulfillment courted disaster. There was always a price. That had been another of old Kierel's lessons, and it had proved too true...

As a highborn lad, Gregor received some little hospitality in the west. From the merchant factor, he passed into the hands of a lord and lady to whom he was little more than a ward, and after less than a year, they in turn secured him admission to a well thought of boarding school and sent him politely but firmly on his way, with the clear message that his future was no responsibility of theirs beyond his tuition.

At Saint Malistair’s academy, the boy found a true home amongst the endless stacks of the school’s library, and the intellectual curiosities of his education, and year after year, grew into a well read, well spoken young man, versed in the breadth of what the world had to offer, and it was there that he met sir Oeren Morell over the peaces of a kings set, and earned his first and only true patron.

Even then, he appreciated what the opportunity Sir Morell offered him would cost – his friends at the academy, the opportunities for further education, and it seemed likely some degree of his physical comfort and safety as well, to say nothing of taking him even further from the homeland to which he wished to return on some distant day – but his agile mind grasped instinctively that the opportunity was well worth the price.

Gregor Tusklison ys Eidrengrad

Heroes of Cerilia ChainsawXIV