Zinc Redden

NAME: Zinc Redden
AGE: Twenty-two
BIRTHPLACE: Avalon, Telaris
GENDER: Male
RACE: Human
NATIONALITY: Telerian
SEXUALITY: Demisexual

HEIGHT: 1.89m // 6' 2"
WEIGHT: 84kg // 185lbs.
EYES: Sapphire blue
HAIR: Dark blue, short and spiky
PHYSIQUE: Athletic, lean build.
COMPLEXION: Fair
APPEARANCE: [reference]

LIKES: Magic, apples, reading, justice
DISLIKES: Bullies, his father, being judged, sour things
FEARS: His father, losing his sword
GOALS: Discover the truth about himself, learn more about magic
PERSONALITY: Friendly, tenacious, loyal, stubborn and reckless

Alignment: Neutral Good
Affiliation: Knights of Velka
Occupation: Chief of the KoV
Enforced Class: Spellblade
Archetype: Rune Knight

---

Dear journal,
    I have begun to writing this so to keep track of my life; past, present and future. My name is Zinc Redden, a rather uncommon name but I've grown to like it. I was born in Avalon on a stormy night whilst the glowing full moon up above illuminated the night sky. My mother, may her soul be blessed, died giving birth to me. She was always a frail woman but had a gentle nature. It is from her that I inherited the understanding for love and forgiveness whilst my father's genes instilled within me an iron temperament and capacity for violence. I always hated my father, he was a mean bastard that bullied me and was overly strict. I don't know why he was like that, maybe he blamed me for the death of his beloved wife. As soon as I could walk is when his turned into an unforgivable tyrant. As a young child, there was nothing I could do but endure it...
    Though my childhood, he was mean to me, made me do most day-to-day things by myself. Unless he cooked food at home, I had to feed myself. It was hard when I was younger and couldn't do much. It became more manageable as I grew older, as I could do more things. Though the one thing he did do for me was give me a chance at obtaining and education. I had to play the good little son because I knew if I made a mistake, I wouldn't get a second chance. Thinking back, everything he was doing only made me stronger in the end. I had his blood in me, so I could be just as stubborn and would not give up. Though it made me whom I am today, I wouldn't want to go through it again. Once was enough.
    On my sixteenth birthday, my strict taskmaster sat me down and told me of my familial lineage, on my mother's side. It was bewildered, not from the mystical ancestry but that he wasn't being a cold bastard. I didn't know what was going on but I knew one thing, he couldn't have been my father. He explained to me that my mother passed onto me more than a kindness, but the potential for magic. He wasn't aware of the limit of my potential or if I had it at all but everyone on my mother's side had some kind of gift, I would be no different. He gave me a small leathery case. He told me that this too was a part of my inheritance. Within was a broken stub of a sword, just the old hilt and rusted, jagged blade that ended roughly a foot and half from the handle. As I examined it, my father told me I had to the end of the day to get out otherwise he would be worse in the morning. I believed him, I left later that night. It was funny too, I stole all his money that he kept stashed in his room. He thought I didn't know but I did.
    After I had set off on my own, I discovered that whenever I held the broken sword, a warm peacefulness washed over me and I found I could focus better. Nights went by where I would hold the sword as I slept, just so I wouldn't feel frightened. It was like my mother's embrace enveloped me. One morning, I had awoken to the sound of hoof beats. A small group of riders came upon me and tried to ambush me. I fought back the best I could with my stubby weapon. I managed to wound a couple of them before being overwhelmed. As they were sifting through my stuff for any valuables and money, a robed man bent to retrieve my sword. It reacted to his touch and he fell back screaming. The sword had severely burnt his hand. This gave me the opening I needed to grasp my weapon, whatever of my stuff I could and flee. Most gave chase and caught up to me quickly but as I spun to face them, a mysterious force lashed out at them and threw them from their horses. With them unconscious, I thought I could escaped but the robed man drew near and threw lightning at me. I was truly afraid for my life, as the mystical power of magic would most likely be the end of me. He cast another bolt of lightning at me and I instinctively brought my broken blade up to defend myself. The lightning hit it and exploded, throwing me off my feet.Once I came back to my senses, I found the mage to be unconscious. With all the bandits unconscious, I took some of their things that I believed I would need, as well as a tome the mage carried. Then I stole one of their horses, scared the rest off and awkwardly rode away. I had never ridden a horse before but I learned fast so not to fall off and get as far  away from them as I could.
    I wandered by myself for years. With the money I had pilfered from those bandits, I could afford to get by for awhile. I paid an old swordsman to teach me how to wield a weapon. I learned how to use a real sword, albeit a shortsword but it was more so than my stubby heirloom. He was amazed at my natural aptitude to learn quickly, something I didn't know I had. Regardless, he taught me a few things, enough to keep my alive. Alas, he didn't know as much as I thought he would, as he was just a retired guardsman. Nonetheless, I learned how to survive in a fight and thanked him. At the same time, I had tried reading that book I had stolen from the mage. A few pages had words I understood but others seemed to be in a different language. Then a couple of them seemed like something I could read but moments after reading them, I forgot them. It was definitely strange. It was a magical tome but I didn't know it at the time. After I left him, I wandered some more, doing odd jobs across Telaris and learning more things about the world.

---

BROKEN BLADE: A broken stub of a sword. The stubby blade has jagged edges and a nasty slanted point. A faded inscription runs up one side of the blade but Zinc cannot read it, not to mention even if he could, it is cut off without the full blade. It has the uncanny ability to cut magic. Should any with magical abilities, besides Zinc, touch this weapon, they will be severely burned. While wielding this, Zinc's gift activates and becomes attuned with his mind, making it easier to use. Though it's a broken weapon, it has an unnatural durability and, for some reason, balanced just right. He is quite proficient with it. [reference]
OLD GRIMOIRE: A tome taken from a mage. It contains a summary on magic, basic spells and how to perform a few rituals. Until his gift merges with him fully, he cannot perfectly read how to construct magical items, intermediate magic and the spiritual pact aligned with this grimoire.

INNER POWER: The gift passed onto him from his mother is that of the power within. Zinc has learned to focus his will to physically empower himself for a brief period of time. His strength and agility becomes heightened, making it more than a normal human. Just enough to even the odds against a bigger opponent or multiple enemies. When he becomes frightened or angered, a blast of force expands out from around him, capable of knocking people off their feet, sometimes into unconsciousness.

• Elemental Affinity: Light
  
• Magical Ability: With his gift, Zinc would be capable of tapping the flows of magic and casting spells. Though he is a novice at best, he has learned to cast orbs of light that illuminate a small area. He can also heal minor wounds, either his own or another person's.
  

EQUIPMENT: Aside from linen and wool clothing, Zinc has a leather cuirass, an iron pauldron, iron gauntlets and iron greaves. He has a leather belt with a short tough scabbard positioned horizontally along the back of his waist, with his broken blade is sheathed. He also has a fur-lined wool cloak, a single-strap satchel to carry various items and a bedroll.