Otto von Gerwig

Otto von Gerwig

A portrait of Otto von Gerwig

Relatives	Cellica von Gerwig (Wife - 900BR-850PR Deceased) Reyner von Gerwig (Son - 300-500 Deceased) Mira von Gerwig (DIL - 300-510 Deceased) Luitwin von Gerwig (GS - 400-610 Deceased) Askan von Gerwig (GS - 460-720 Deceased) Alea Garnier (Daughter - 400-650 Deceased) Perceval Garnier (SIL 425-505 Deceased) Antoinette Garnier (GD 453-750 Deceased) Lucien Garnier (GS 460-800 Deceased) Aiwin Garnier (GS 460-760 Deceased)
Languages	Common, Elvish
Affiliations	Troverth Government
Aliases	Komandant Alpha
Marital Status	Widowed
Place of Birth	Old Troverth
Date of Death	deathdate
Place of Death	deathplace
Species	Human
Gender	Male
Height	5' 10"
Weight	180
Eye Color	Grey/green

Otto von Gerwig is quite the odd adventurer. Seen as a 60 year old human man, he has been around for much much longer. He uses a regiment of ceaseless soldiers to fight in combat, but his own swordsmanship is capable for when the going gets tough.

Physical Appearance

Otto von Gerwig stands at 5' 10", human in almost every way. He looks to be about 45-50 years old, with somewhat paler skin, a bushy grey mustache, and grey-green eyes. These features can be seen when he is not wearing his gas mask, which he does so religiously when in the company of strangers. His clothing is militaristic in nature. He wears very bland colors, dark grey pants and tunic, covered by a blue-grey great coat. He wears a somewhat ornate, polished breastplate which has the seal of Troverth is stamped onto the very top of the armor. Upon his head, he wears a dull-grey helmet, and his canvas gas mask when in front of others. In the pocket of his trenchcoat is a small rosary with a locket at the end, inside is a portrait of his recently deceased wife, and he wraps the rosary around his wrist when he enters battle.

Personality

he is a kind, caring man when not in combat. He offers advice similar to that of your grandfather, and will always have a story ready should you ask. He enjoys some of the smaller things in life, gardens, strolls, even games of chess or cards. He finds joy in the moment. When he enters battle, a different Otto is seen. He is ferocious, cunning, and commanding. Not afraid to get stuck in, he uses his loyal Ghost Regiment to fight and keep the enemy maneuvering to control the flow of battle.

History

This is the story of Otto von Gerwig

Early Life

I was born in the waning years of the Holy Wars, or so historians call it these days. It was the year 978 BR, the 20th day of the 10th month, in a small village within the borders of Troverth when it was still on Osugbo. My mother, Raina, was a sweet woman. She wanted me to enter politics, or academics, to use my mind for something other than warfare, and to have a more typical childhood. My father, Andebert, was a stoic man. Harsh at times, he prepared me for military service. He instilled lessons of discipline, and honor from a young age. Under his guidance, I excelled in my craft, and by age 10 was far above my fellow children. The von Gerwig family had a long history of service to Troverth, serving as sergeant-at-arms within the armies or in the city garrisons for generations. My raising was done to prepare me for continuing this legacy. By the time I could properly train, read, and write, I was studying swordsmanship and military doctrine. My father enrolled me into the Egilhard Military Institute, Troverth’s best, when I was 12. It was here where I continued to study military tactics and doctrine, learning from veterans and analysts alike who served in the Holy War. The regimen of training and studying was designed to break the students, and remold them into leaders for Troverth. Many of my students dropped from the program, breaking under the pressure. The cowards did not deserve the opportunity they were afforded anyway. Lessons continued, and I began to excel in my classes. By the time I was 15 the war with the dragons was over, and victory had been secured. I continued in the academy until my graduation, in 1 PR, where I earned that coveted title of sergeant-at-arms. Unfortunately, the lessons I had learned would be required sooner than anyone anticipated.

In the year 2 PR, the Realm War broke out, and Troverth’s position was threatened by Champerty. The call to arms was raised across the Empire, and I answered. I was 19 when the war began, and my first command was a small formation of pikemen, the 151st Heavy Pikes,  assisting the various fronts against cavalry attack and footsoldier assaults from breaking our shield walls. We first entered combat in the year 3, fighting across various fronts with the main armies of Troverth. Casualties were low when we began, and hopes were high for a quick and decisive victory of our enemies. How wrong we were.

Military Career

We performed well in the war, until we were sent to the Phantom Front. That damned magical hole was the definition of hell. Champerty forces ground us down slowly but surely, withering our attacks with demons and magic. Tactics which had been successful previously, were no longer an option. The enemy combined a superior defensive position with magical enhancements to almost prevent a total frontal assault. As we ground forward, the formation began to crumble under the weight of loss and the attrition we faced. Eventually, we received word that the Champerts were attempting to encircle both of our flanks, and they nearly succeeded. Had it not been for one shogun, surely we would have been eradicated that day. As the Phantom Front continued to grind on, more and more of our formation fell, until the day I received the injury which removed me from frontline service.

In the year 15, my formation was reduced to 36% strength, but no reinforcements ever reached us. Command continued to funnel in the unskilled fodder they called the Barakas. These troops shored our center, but our veteran formations were thrown into the grinder to defend the flanks. The 151st was one such unit, and our meager number of men were caught out in a salient because an order to back step was never received. Our enemy took full advantage, and a series of attacks from demon and soldier alike smashed into both of the formation’s flanks. Axes, swords, spears all flashed and danced in the light, the blood of my men and the enemy mixed upon the ground. As the dead and wounded mounted, only a handful remained. We were crushed, surrounded, and slowly being picked off. The demons were the worst, they enjoyed the show, choosing not to outright kill us as they encircled our formation. They cut and stabbed at tendons, joints, and other non-vital areas. They bled us, slowing us to the point we could not fight back. Some of my men were pulled through the surrounding shield wall, their wails resounded over the cacophony of battle for what seemed like hours. AS the 151st was reduced to nothing, we continued to fight. Surrender was not an option because prisoners clearly were not being taken, and my men performed valiantly, down to the last man. As we tried desperately to break out, I felt something grab my sword hand, and a very hot sensation flooded my arm, followed by a very quick cold. I screamed, and looked to my side. A Champerty soldier was holding my severed forearm, and a demon’s blade was retracting to behind the wall. This was the last I remembered before falling unconscious on the field.

I awoke some time later, the sounds of wounded and dying men filled my ears. I looked around, and saw tent walls, and men and women clad in white clambering around what seemed like a sea of men. Recent casualties I suspected, but I had no idea how I reached the rear lines. This hospital was a despicable site. Men and boys receiving what little care the overwhelmed staff could give while they lay waiting to die. Laying in the officer’s ward, which was by no means any better than what the common soldier resided in, I was simply placed on a stretcher and given care first. I had nearly given up, or I think I had nearly given up. This particular experience is viewed through a fog as it was not entirely something I would look back upon in clarity due to my condition. I do remember my arm, removed from just below the elbow, was slowly bleeding through the bandages. Nurses and aides were constantly assuring me a healer would be by soon, but I was losing too much blood too quickly for this to be true, it was only a matter of time before I simply did not have enough to keep me alive. I laid there, staring at the tent roof thinking of my mother. How would she react to the death of her son? Would she recover? What would father think? Would I have done enough for him to be proud of his son? What of my sisters? They were too young to understand the concept of death, not in its entirety. As I lay there, waiting to either die or receive a miracle from some higher power, a healer arrived. In my delirious state, I thought she was an angel. Soft, golden hair, a voice so reassuring I believed I would rise from hearing it, a touch soft enough to instantly calm me. She removed my bandage, and she uttered an incantation, and with a soft glow the bleeding stopped. She brushed my hair from my face and that was the moment I fell in love. Her features, elven and beautiful, came into focus. She smiled down at me, saying that everything would be alright, I was able to go home. I looked at her, and held the hand placed upon my face, and asked her what she was called. Cellica, an angel sent to save me this day. As I recovered, we spoke more and more, connecting and learning more of each other. She was a high elf, whose family had established themselves well before Troverth came to power. She offered her healing services when war broke out, a sort of grand adventure for herself, and to practice her abilities. We became friends, and As my healing sessions began to end, a captain came to my bedside. I suspected I knew what he was going to tell me, and he confirmed my suspicions. I was relieved of duty, honorably discharged for wounds received in the field. I was also told I was going to receive the Emperor’s Cross, for distinguished leadership and service in the face of the enemy. Additionally, for my injuries, I would be receiving the Blooded Amulet. Finally, the captain gave me the campaign ribbon for the Phantom Front, for participation in the battle here. These commendations would certainly make my father proud, even if I returned with my injuries. After congratulations were given, by both the officer and Cellica, I was allowed to leave. However, I elected to remain as an aide, choosing to provide reassurance to the wounded that help would arrive, or writing letters to those families who had lost a son. I did this because I wanted something to flower with the elf who saved my life, and eventually something did.

I volunteered with the hospital service for another year, during this time Cellica expressed interest in perhaps allowing me to court her. It was a wonderful revelation, and soon after, I asked for her hand in courtship. We remained together for a year, working in the hospitals, until I received word that my father was ill. I had asked her to join me, so that my family may meet her, to which she very enthusiastically accepted.

Civilian Life (Before Kids)

Upon our arrival at home, my mother and sisters ran to the front gates, and warmly embraced the both of us. Mother looked well, but it seems that father’s illness was more serious than originally anticipated. Her worry showed through her smile, but she was brightened by our return. My sisters were grown, far more than when I had left. One had entered secondary school, and was excelling as a writer. The other was leading her class in grades, and was nearly prepared to enter secondary school. They mulled over Cellica, asking enough questions for it to be considered an interrogation. She smiled, laughed, and answered all of their questions, when a cough came from the front entrance. Father was standing there, wearing his study robe and propping himself up on a cane. He looked frail, the skin tight to his frame, and the bags under his eyes gave away that he had not spelt well. I moved away from the group, approaching him, and offered my arm to take him to Cellica and the others, who were now making their way towards us. He refused, simply stating he could still move, and had some fight left. He approached the group slowly, and took the hand of Cellica, kissed it, and thanked her for bringing his son home. She beamed at him, before pulling him into a hug. Something was whispered to him, and he softly smiled in the embrace and returned it. We entered the home and I was asked by my father to see him in his study.

When I arrived within the room, he began to ask me about the war, what I had done before being discharged, what I had accomplished and earned. I regaled the tales of the 151st, telling him about what we did, what training was like. I told him of our first engagements, what actions were taken and how well the unit performed. I continued through 8 years of war, all the marching and camping, camping and marching, followed by the terror that was combat, and the return to marching. He seemed to brighten at how boring the early days of the war were for my unit, until he asked the very obvious question, which I was reluctant to answer. But I did tell him about the Phantom Front. I told him of our losses, of how the Champerts ground us down, using magic and demons to bolster their forces. I told him of our encirclement, and the destruction of the 151st. I told him of the sounds, and the sights, and the emotions that coursed through me. I told him of the moment I lost my arm, and what I feared would happen as a result. He seemed to darken at this, extending a hand and squeezing my shoulder. He said he was proud that I had served well, and that he was happy to see me return home at all. He knew that there were so many whose sons did not return. He considered my return a blessing, and he would not squander it by thinking me of less of a man because I was injured. I smiled at this, knowing I had lived up to the family expectations, and made him proud of me. Soon we reached the topic of Cellica. I told him that I loved her, deeply and truly and wanted to spend my life at her side, regardless of how short that would be to her. He seemed to approve of the notion, smiling and sitting me down. He informed me of his illness, something terminal affecting his heart, and in his advanced age it would certainly not be long before he passed. I told him that Cellica may be able to heal him, to remove whatever ailed him, but he refused. He said he led a good life, and was ready, but wanted to at least see a wedding. He raised his eyebrows at this and looked at me, hinting heavily that perhaps it was time. And so, in accordance with my father’s wishes, that night at family dinner I asked Cellica permission to spend my life by her side. I understood that she would outlive me by several centuries, however it was how I wanted to spend my life. She was overjoyed, as were my mother and sisters, and my father was pleased at this. We spent the falling three days planning the wedding, finding appropriate attire, and preparing ourselves. As the days passed, my father's condition worsened. It was clear that he had very little time, but our wedding was a beautiful ceremony. She used sending to contact her family, who arrived a day prior thanks to some magic teleportation. To say her father was imposing was an understatement. I was afraid he would never approve of our marriage, simply because of the way he carried himself. However, my father and he held a sort of negotiation or discussion and he warmed right up. The elf was happy to see his daughter off, even for a brief time, to a man who could defend the home and make her the center of his life. I was very gracious to the both of them, ensuring I could maintain my promise to Cellica’s father until the end of my days. With the promise made to her father, the wedding was set to begin.

To say that she was beautiful was the greatest understatement of my life. Nothing was comparable, not even the gods. The service was quick, yet elegant, which we both agreed on for the sake of my father. We were wed in both the way of her people, and the way of mine, to show our newly combined heritage. We had our hands bound in a silken cloth, with words of protection and unity uttered in elvish. The silk was then cut, and tied around our upper arms to ward off evil from our union. In the way of my people, we exchanged vows of love, protection, and unity. I gave her my vows, claiming to be the rock on which the waves of life will break, the bastion for our family, and uphold my love until my dying breath. Her vows, like herself, were beautiful, powerful, and the only reason I am able to dictate my life story centuries after it should have ended. She smiled, uttering these words:

With this kiss, I will be yours, in this life and the next. I will tend our garden, defend our walls, and light our path.

With this kiss, I will keep and hold you, an extension of me as I extend you. I will live my life with you, and you will live your life with me.

With this kiss, I gift you my life, my strength, my love, my being

I was unaware of the effects these words would have, but it was a spell of sorts. Following the ceremony, we ate with both families, hosting a feast with foods from both of our homes. We laughed, enjoying the company of both families, and lived within the light for the moment. As we retired for the night, my father came and talked to us both. He was elated to see such a beautiful ceremony, and to hear such beautiful vows. We thanked him, and I had asked if he would like to speak longer, but he insisted he was tired, and wished to sleep. It set in with this statement. He knew that today was his last, and I was grateful that he was able to see us together. I bid him good night, and will be prepared to comfort mother in the morning, and I embraced him. I held him tight, somewhat hopeful that it would keep him for even a day longer. He asked that everything be simple, and we told him it would be. He told me where his will was for the morning, and to help mother. He passed some time in the night.

We held a very simple funeral for him, as were his wishes. Cellica kept her family for the day, and we both worked to console mother. Her heart was broken, but she felt that he held long enough to see our wedding, and was happy that he did. Following the burial, we read his will, and he had altered it shortly after the wedding. He left the home and all of its possessions to mother, so she may live her life within the home they built together. To my sisters, he left several of his mother’s jewelry pieces, which they have been fascinated with since they were very small. And to Cellica and I, he left enough gold to relocate and build our own home, if need be. He thought of each of us, making sure that we were taken care of even after his passing. A great man indeed.

Cellica and I remained with my mother for the next year, keeping tabs on the ever changing conflict around us. It was the year 17 when we moved to establish our own home, but we ensured that mother was taken care of with my sisters for the time being. Cellica and I moved southward, to find a coastal city to relocate to. It was the furthest point from the battlefronts and would allow for a quick escape if we needed to. Be used about half of our gold to buy a small plot of land and build a small home. Made of stone and wood, it served as the beginnings of our new life together. We created a garden, growing produce and flowers which thrived in the coastal climate, and it was here where we remained for 5 years. In the year 20, Troverth landed on Amusa, establishing a new area within the Empire. We were eager to move there, being far enough away from the major battles which have taken a turn for the worst here at home. In the year 22 we decided to inform my mother of our leaving, but she insisted the war was still far from her and she would remain. It was hard, but I accepted her wishes to remain in the home her and father built. I wished her well, and where they could find us should she change her mind. As Cellica and I sailed, we wondered what the new continent would be like and what our home would become.

We built another humble cottage on the outskirts of the main city, begun when the initial landings occurred, to begin a small farm or brewing company. We knew the gold would not last forever, so we tried to create our own income. In the year 33, some 11 years after our arrival here, the war ended with a defeat for Troverth. As a result, the city we were living in exploded with refugees and those fleeing across the sea. Using 11 years of income, Cellica and I built a new business, a tavern for those coming across the sea. This business venture worked well for us, and we continued to expand with the city. Our tavern opened a second location, then a third. We began to build our life here in the city, even building a new home closer to our taverns for ease of administration, much more grand and designed for raising a family, should we want to.

Over time, I realized something. I was no longer aging, or was doing so incredibly slowly. In the year 33 I should have been 50, but I still looked and felt no older than 30. This was the gift Cellica had given me. A longer life, to spend more by her side, her vows coming true as she extended my life to match hers. We can spend our days together, practically letting our taverns run themselves for the foreseeable future, living life in love, spending our time together. We took strolls through the city, went on dates to the parks, every moment was perfect with her.

We continued living this life for the next 200 years. The city has expanded well into a metropolis, and a center for technological and academic advances. Tinkerers began experimenting with iron and steel, creating machines and contraptions for both war and life. Due to my veteran status, I was enrolled in a program to acquire a replacement for my missing arm. These tinkerers began creating hands and legs of iron and steel, brass and copper, even gold and silver if you could afford it. I accepted the offer, with much delight from Cellica, and my first prosthetic was attached. It was serviceable, offering me the basic ability to use my dominant hand once more, but the movements took time getting used to. It was unresponsive at times, with the joins seemingly locking or it did not do exactly what I wanted it to. However, for an early production or prototype it was well made. A copper exterior over a dark steel mechanism it was impressive to see. As time progressed, so did the technology for these prosthetics. Over the next 60 years, I received two more versions of the arm, with the final being the most complex device I had seen, and the one that worked the best. It felt weightless, nimble, responsive. It felt like I had my one flesh and bone back. I asked the tinkerers for a dark steel mechanism and a golden exterior, even going so far as to ask for silver inlays into the gold. They seemed eager to oblige, for the right price. Within the next week, I had a new, shiny arm. Cellica loved it, commenting on its elegance and strength, and how it suits me. I was so happy she liked it and told her as such. I finally felt whole. In order to get more used to the arm, I began training with it, rekindling my swordsmanship skills. Apparently, this gave Cellica an idea.

On the 280th anniversary of our wedding, in the year 296, Cellica called for me within my study. As I entered the room, she stood there in a beautiful blue dress, and her bright smile. She told me she had a gift, for both our love and my work with my prosthetic. She produced a saber from behind her back, and it was as beautiful as she was. The hilt was a brightly polished gold with a copper colored grip. The basket guard was beautifully woven to resemble the leaves upon a tree branch. The blade was a polished steel, and shone brightly when removed from the scabbard. It was almost too nice to use as a sword, and should have been hung as an heirloom. However, when these concerns were voiced, Cellica simply stated that she ensured it was designed for use, and was a capable blade to defend her love. I was overjoyed, the blade was the best gift I could have received from the love of my life. I had planned her gift as well, her favorite chocolates, her favorite home cooked meal, and some of the finest wine I could find. But this paled in comparison to her gift to me, but I gave them nonetheless. She seemed so happy that I liked her gift, I can only hope mine was enough this time.

Civilian Life (After Kids)

It was two years later, in 298 when Cellica came to me with a request, one I was so very happy to hear. Cellica proposed a family, children of our own, apparently feeling that there was room for more love within our home. We started our family in the year 300, with the birth of our son, Reyner. When he entered our lives, we were nearly as happy as the day we were wed. He was a healthy boy, with softly pointed ears and a face clearly from his mother. His eyes matched mine, as did his hair. Our bedroom became a nursery, our den a playroom, and our son became the center of our world. As the years passed and he grew, we instilled our life lessons into him. Cellica taught him grace, compassion, negotiation, and healing magic. I taught martial prowess, civics, politics, and chivalry. Reyner became a well rounded young man by the time his formal education began. We placed him in a private institution for his education, mostly to help him build powerful relations with the children of Troverth’s elite. Paying for this education was becoming taxing, even with three successful taverns. I elected to use my military service for the city, and joined the city guard services. The government income was enough when combined with the taverns to keep Reyner in school until he graduated. Once he graduated, he began to work as a clerk for a lawyer within the city, who helped teach and guide him into the right schools to continue within the same career. Through the pay from his work and scholarships, Reyner was able to pay his own way, and become the city’s new public defender by 340. Cellica and I were so proud, but were more proud of his finding love. A sweet half-elf girl born the same year he was. Her name was Mira. She worked within the law school’s library, and the two took a liking to each other. He brought her to visit the first time after dating for nearly a year. Cellica and I were both receptive to her, finding her both book-smart and witty.  She reminded me of Cellica when we first met, and Reyner was certainly like myself. After two years of dating, on graduation day, Reyner asked for her hand in marriage, which received a very enthusiastic yes. They were married in the same manner Cellica and I were, to uphold family traditions, in the year 341. As Reyner continued to practice law, I decided to continue in the guard. The regimen was familiar, and it was gratifying work. The city itself had very little crime, the guard presence was more for show than anything. In the year 350, I was promoted to a sergeant officer, now being able to issue the commands of the day to my squadron of guards. This was where I began to excel for the city. Cellica was also far happier with this, because I was able to stay in the barracks rather than take to the streets.

In the year 400, two major events happened within my life. The first, was the birth of my daughter, Alea. She was healthy, but smaller than her brother. She was so similar to her mother, her golden hair, slightly-pointed ears, and piercing white eyes. She took on my facial features, and nothing else. Within the same year, Reyner and Mira also had their first child. A boy they named Luitwin. Luitwin was very much like his father, a stoic boy who enjoyed reading and learning. Luitwin grew up and entered the same school his father did, studying in the sciences, particularly biology and anatomy. He also learned the ways of healing magic from Cellica, using his studies and her magic to begin a small clinic within the city. Cellica and I were happy to see both children come into the world, and prepared for their futures accordingly. As Alea grew, she became quite the spitfire. She was energetic, creative, and adventurous. Containing her was nearly impossible, which was a stark difference from her brother. I still attempted to teach her martial skill, in the event that she ever needed it, but also took to more creative outlets. I added lessons of survival and camping to her lessons. Cellica taught her painting, literature, even cartography if she wanted. We inadvertently set our daughter up to become an adventurer or mercenary. She picked up the bow quite well, and when she entered her teen years, became an avid hunter and tracker. We did not bother sending her to school, when private tutors could easily teach her all she needed of history, mathematics, and language. We allowed our daughter to grow in her own way, and she proved this method to be the best for her. As she grew into a young adult, she set out into the surrounding areas, joining an adventuring guild, and hunting several beasts in the area. It was in this guild that she met her love, a man named Perceval Garnier. Perceval was a tinkerer, creating many of his own devices and weapons. A smart lad, he resonated well with Alea and her need to learn and explore the world, showing her what his sciences are capable of. The two were wed in 450. They held a unique service in the guild hall, with enough alcohol involved that breathing in the air was enough to feel a buzz. And it was one of the most fun nights I have had in a long time.

Three years after their wedding, in 453,  Alea and Percival had their first child, a bouncing baby girl they named Antoinette. She took after her mother in almost every way. She was rambunctious, and quite the handful, but kind and compassionate. She followed her mother and father, as she grew she joined the adventurer’s guild, becoming quite skilled with a greataxe, and channeling her energy into her combat. Her parents taught her everything she would need to know, and her grandpa enthusiastically told her stories from when he used to battle on the regular. Our family was growing, and growing quite quickly.

The next 7 years saw great growth for our family. Our children were growing, our grandchildren were growing, and Cellica and I were going to be blessed with more happy news. In 460, Reyner and Mira had a boy, and named him Askan. He was more like his mother than Luitwin was; soft-spoken, wanting to read everything, and trying their best to keep to themselves. Through school, Askan excelled in literature and linguistics, learning a total of 9 languages by the time he graduated. He entered politics as an ambassador for Troverth, and led a somewhat successful career representing our empire abroad. Alea and Percival also had a boy, which they named Lucien. He was an oddity for their family, which was quite interesting to see. He was reserved, shy, and above all, interested in religion. He began taking part in services dedicated to Sarenrae, the goddess of light, and when he became old enough, became one of her clerics. Cellica and I even asked him to retake our vows on our 500th anniversary in 516. Lucien had a twin, named Aiwin. He was cunning, sly, and a damned good liar. He learned to wield daggers and hide in plain sight from his mother, and was given mechanical advantages by his father, including wrist-mounted, retractable blades when he turned 18. He tried his best to keep to himself, stay quiet, and remain under your radar. He got into trouble every once and a while, but nothing very serious. An apple missing here, perhaps a copper or silver piece there, that was his specialty. And I loved him for it. I often asked him to help my men train in finding criminals who could run and hide, or possibly had networks. He usually won the exercises through deception, avoidance, and picking my squad off one by one. He always got some spare gold when he won, so it kept him out of other people’s pockets. Our family was grown, and of course these grandchildren would have children of their own, but they never visited often enough for Cellica or I to find out what they did with their life.

Curse of Longevity

The loss of kids

Guard of Troverth

Time as a guard and beyond

More Modern Times

Year 800 onward

Languages

Common, Elvish

Powers and Abilities

He can summon a double from his Ghost Regiment when in combat, and can use his centuries of martial practice to keep the enemy where he wants them.

Attacks and Weapons 

He uses a very well-kept officer's saber.