Seven Kingdoms: Seowyn's Crossing
A 20 year old, well-muscled, skittish minotaur cleric
Eustace is a Minotaur Cleric. Light brown with biege spots… Extremely strong, extremely kind, and extremely careful. As a young acolyte, he wears simple leather armor and a Sash of Shandalene. As an adult he wears a bronze chest-plate and the tattered sash he wore as a calf has become twin armbands.
Bloodlust – Score the first critical hit of the campaign.
Can’t Miss I – Hit at least once in 3 consecutive rounds of an encounter.
Team Player – Revive an unconscious player character.
I remember her face and her smell… I remember she told me ‘shhhhh’ before she slipped me under a box below our wagon. I obeyed my mother. I stayed quiet… and in doing so, I saved my life.
There was roaring and bellowing… my mother and father were fighting for my life and theirs. And then there was laughter, there were crashings, and then nothing.
Time passed and then the hunger started… it gnawed hard at me inside and I tried not to make a noise… but the hunger was too much for me. I had to venture out from the place my mother told me to stay. My hunger made me disobey my mother’s command.
I looked for my mother and father… but I didn’t find them. I looked for food… But I found nothing. I walked away trying to find something to fill my belly.
A kindly old man and his wife happened upon me, starving and clomping alone along the road to Seowyn’s Crossing. I think I was only 9 or 10 months old at the time… They fed me and treated me kindly but they didn’t have the resources to keep me, so they took me to the church.
My life at the orphanage was good. I learned the ways of the goddess Shandalene. I learned from the Abbot that she had given me the gift and responsibility of Pneuma and how I should best use that power to help others.
Growing up at the orphanage and within the church was hard, but sometimes it was really nice… As a young calf I took great joy in the simple pleasures of scything wheat and farming the land. The wonderful smell of fresh dirt, grass and crops always lifted my heart when I was at my most low. My main problem was that I had to work and live and worship in a place that was built too small for me. I always had to be on my guard. One time I didn’t watch where I was going and I knocked over a candle and accidentally set one of the tapestries on fire. It wasn’t one of the important ones, but Brother Jacoby gave me a lashing for that. He told me not to be so clumsy and I really did try to be… But it’s so hard when you’re so big.
Brother Jacoby gave me a LOT of lashings. I still remember the worst beating I ever received. I was outside playing with the other kids at the orphanage and my friend Christopher said something to them like, “You guys better be careful!” pointing at me, “He’s one of the beasts of Baphomet!” the other kids’ eyes grew big as bucklers and I started pretending like I was a monster, stomping and bleating as I chased them around the yard. I was only playing and they all knew it, ‘cause all of us were laughing… Brother Jacoby was not laughing… He stormed over to us and loomed above us… His eyes were on fire. With the switch a whistling blur in his hand, he brought it down on Christopher and I. He brought it down over and over again screaming, ’BLASPHEMY!" and “HERESY!” and “FILTH!” “NEVER! EVER again!” I don’t know what happened after that. He whipped me so bad that I fainted from the pain. My wounds slowly healed over the next month as did Christopher’s… We never said one word about it from that point forward. Brother Jacoby continued teaching us our lessons like nothing had never happened he never said anything either. I tried to be good and make up for what I had done. I polished Brother Jacoby’s boots, I brought him the things he needed immediately, whenever he asked… I tried to be as good as possible, I tried to do things so that he would like me. But I don’t think he ever really liked me to begin with, I know the event in the courtyard solidified it.
The old Abbot Justan was as kind and light as Jacoby was dark and stern. I loved him, I loved his stories, and I think he did love me. Justan, for all his age, was a strong powerful man. He always carried a huge sword on his back. It had been peace-bonded back during a time when he had lived a different life, before he knew the goddess. He had never untied it since. When the Abbot passed away, he gave me that sword. It was too heavy even for my strong back. It was then that I knew why he had willed it to me and why it was important. I strapped the sword on my back and tightened the sashes around my arms.
I would not let my hunger make me disobey my Mother’s command.