Uriah

Uriah Goodman

Appearance

Uriah is average height, about 5’ 9”, with a slender build. He is fit from an active life on the move, but he’s much more “sinewy” than “muscular.”

His dark brown hair is trimmed short, but it is always unkempt. Likewise, his face is always covered by a 3-4 day stubble. Although his time in the military taught him the importance of cleanliness and a daily routine, Uriah doesn’t prioritize looking his best. Short hair is easier for moving around and easier to keep clean, and a dry trim is much faster than a close shave while on the run. With brown eyes and no major distinguishing features on his face, Uriah appreciates his ability to blend in with most crowds.

Even while living on the road, Uriah is careful to keep his skin (and any wounds) clean, so he has no major scars visible. A closer inspection will likely find quite a few well-healed minor scrapes, but that’s to be expected with a past of farms, military, and rough living.

All of his gear is well worn, but in excellent repair. His clothes are all simple cloth made with shades of brown and grey, and no jewelry is visible. Everything he wears is either buckled or tied down tightly so that nothing can catch or jingle as he moves. Even his dagger is tied along the length of his belt instead of hanging down at his waist so it can be concealed by untucking his shirt as needed. The back end and blade of the dagger are blackened with brunt cork to prevent any unwanted reflections or sparkles. He wears his rings under his gloves and his amulet under his tunic, while his light chain shirt is also concealed beneath his overtunic (like a fitted jacket made of light leather which has sleeves that go just past his gloves at the elbow).

His skin is not nearly as tan as you might expect for living on the road because he usually wears a cloak, and he frequently has the hood over his head. The left side of the cloak is usually drawn up around him, but he always keeps his right side clear to make it easier to draw a weapon quickly. Although he wears a backpack, it is tied to both his shoulders and his waist, and the load is distributed over his whole back to keep it as streamlined as possible.

For all of his outfit’s simplicity, it’s easy to see that the quiver he wears at his right side is more ornate than the rest of his outfit. The bottom half of the quiver is covered with a plain cloth covering that Uriah added, but the top is kept clear, and the gold-filigreed black seems almost out of place (if noticed). The bow he keeps hidden in a magical compartment in the quiver is the most treasured and elegant item Uriah owns. Even though it appears fragile compared to the rest of his serviceable gear, he cares for it like a musician would care for a prized instrument.

Personality

Whatever dangers he may face, Uriah has an ever-present smirk as though there is some inside joke or some irony to the situation that perhaps only he knows. His gallows humor as seen him through quite a bit, and he’s never eager to give up an old friend.

He spent some time in the military, so he still has a few useful habits from those days. Although Uriah finds it freeing to not have to polish his boots, he sees the wisdom in fastidiously maintaining his gear.

He prefers to plan for contingencies rather than wing it. As a scout or as a sneak, he’s always had at least one escape route planned…preferably two.

He rarely stands up at his full height, and he always walks with a light step. Even though he always seems to have a smile and a joke for his friends, he seems haunted during times of quiet as though he was afraid that something just over his shoulder was about to catch up to him.

History

Uriah grew up outside of Deepblossom, a small farming village near Bell Glen, in Ahlissa in the southern province with his mother, father, and two younger sisters. He was raised to believe in self-reliance and looking forward to the tired sleep an honest day's work can bring at the end of a long day on the farm.

On night, while relaxing in the relatively cool twilight after a hard summer's day work, Uriah began to hear the crackle of a fire in the distance. "Fire!" he shouted as he jumped to his feet, overturning the last few bites of beans from his supper. Uriah raced around the house toward the family's barn, barely keeping his footing on the dry dust as he turned the corner, until he stopped short in shock at the sight of his family's barn on fire. He ran toward the barn to release the horses still inside that were screaming in terror and throwing themselves against the doors.

Kicking the latch open, Uriah jumped aside as the horses ran out of the barn. From the ground, he saw three figures stumbling off toward the nearby tree line. Just then, the last figure turned around and was illuminated by the hellish orange glow of the blazing barn. "Alden," Uriah said in a mix of surprise and anger, but his words were drowned out by the sound of the roof starting to collapse. Uriah was barely starting to run away as a wave of heat accompanied the deafening roar of the barn collapsing in as the inferno fueled by dry hay lit up the night. The family worked late into the night to save the horses that were already out of the barn, but then they just watched as the embers of their former livelihood smoldered through the night.

Having recognized one of the local village troublemakers, Aldan Wayer, Uriah traveled into Deepblossom to report to the local constable. Uriah related the tail to the constable with his voice cracking with emotion, but he learned that there would be no justice for him or his family from the law. Without any evidence and with Aldan having an alibi, his frequent cohorts the Coplan brothers, there was nothing the constable would do to the cousin of the village's mayor. Staring past the official with is fists balled tight in his lap, Uriah suddenly stood up and headed out of the hall shaking with rage and fueled with righteous anger, he went looking to confront Aldan.

He found them behind the village's inn, already drunk even though the sun was still high in the afternoon sky.

"I saw you that night; I KNOW you were there, liar!"

"Oh no, we were praying and fasting late into the night." the three laughed at Uri.

"You're no better than a bandit, and at least they work for their loot."

Then, one of the Coplans hit Uriah on the back of the head with a sickening wet thump. On the ground, and with blood running from the back of his head, Uriah drew his knife to defend himself. Outnumbered three to one, Uriah still easily dispatched the booze-addled Alden and the Coplans.

Panting for air and covered in blood, some his, some not, Uriah realized what he'd done and ran from the scene with a feeling of horror growing in his belly. He told the whole story to his family back home, as he quickly pulled on a new set of clothes and loaded up his hunting gear.

"I can't protect you, boy,” his father said.

"I'm sorry I brought this on us." Uriah clasped his father's shoulder.

"Go, while you still can."

And with a pained glance at his mother and sisters, Uriah ran out to the yard and jumped on Strider, his favorite horse. Holding his well-worn gear under his arm, Uriah galloped away as tears streamed from his eyes. He went to wipe some of the tears away, only to notice that he still had some blood on his hand. Finding no comfort even in his own hand, he traveled on late into the night listening only to the methodical drumming of the horses gallop.

Uriah made his way through the wilderness for weeks avoiding all human contact and re-living the events of those nights in his dreams. He travelled far away from the lands he knew, living off the land and even straying close to the Elven territory to ensure his solitude. Time slowly began to dull the righteous anger Uriah still felt from events those many weeks ago

After wandering for some time, Uriah came across a family traveling by wagon on one of the well-traveled roads between Athlone and Hebburn. As Uriah was coming down from peering over the top of the hill, he heard the distant thundering of galloping horses. Lingering for a moment more, he saw a small group of thieves come upon the traveling family. Uriah watched as the family stood aside for the bandits to take what they wanted from the wagon, as the patriarch of the group pleaded with his captors to let his family go. Uriah started to ease himself down the hill, but he heard a scream and popped his head back up in time to see the father being cut down. Feeling that familiar anger well up, it quickly snapped into cold determination.

*SNAP* A slight whisper was the last sound the attacking bandit heard before Uri's arrow caught him in the throat. Two more of the men went down to the surprise onslaught before the survivors made it to their horses and fled.

Shielding his eyes from the setting sun, Uriah watched the bandits flee to make sure they were really gone with a small, self-satisfied smirk. As he turned his attention from the immediate danger, he realized that the remainder of the family had fled up the road. For three days, Uriah followed the group as they made their way back along the road to make sure the ruffians did not come back to finish them off. At the end of the fourth day, he noticed the group was picking their pace as they approached a turn in the road. He climbed to the top of a tree to see ahead and saw the family break out into a run toward the walls of Hebburn.

Uriah was filled with a mix of satisfaction at seeing the family to safety and apprehension at being so close to so many people. He spent the night shivering in the darkness so as not to draw attention from the nearby city with his campfire. At first light, Uriah let the sunlight warm his face as he became determined to make his way into the city.

Without spare money to properly board his horse, Uriah worked for his food and bed at a stable at the Justice Lady, one of the larger inns in town. He quickly made himself indispensable to the stable-master as one of the only people in the stables to truly know horses. He worked in the stables for a few months learning the city and enjoying the simple and familiar work in the stables.

The owner of the inn had noticed Uriah's skill with a bow, and one night he offered Uriah a job guarding a caravan that was leaving the next day. Sensing an opportunity to earn a bit of extra money to send back home, Uriah quickly accepted. Once again, Uriah's skills with the bow and knowledge of the wilderness around the town made him an indispensable part of the mercenary guard force.

Uriah spent many months as part of the same mercenary group building camaraderie with other soldiers for hire from all of many places the caravans traveled. He traveled farther and met more people than he'd ever imagined possible. Old farmers that could barely hold a club as guides for the groups, seasoned veterans from assorted armies, local politicians looking for safe passage along the dangerous highways, families, children, priests, merchants and scribes. He traveled and camped with them all, making new friends and new enemies long the way. Even though his journeys gave him freedom, of a sort, he still felt trapped by his past and a desire to do more for his friends and those he saw as his brothers and sisters in arms, and not just for those that could afford it.

Later, while resting between jobs, Uriah and his regulars found notices posted hiring experienced mercenaries for the Aerdy army. Sensing an opportunity for even more pay and a greater cause, many decided to sign up, including Uriah. Once again, his expertise with a bow got him notice, and from the very beginning he was sent on a different path in training. Assigned to the advanced scouting guard, Uriah was given an assignment right away.

Instead of scouting as expected, he was told to travel to another city, Two Forts, and await orders at the southern guard barracks. Eager to get started on his next adventure, he secured lodgings near the barracks and began to watch for the candle in the window that would signal that his orders were ready. Three long and boring weeks to the day, he finally saw that his orders were ready. Uriah walked over to the guard on duty as calmly as he could with his heart pounding with excitement. The guard on duty appeared quite a bit older than the other guards that Uriah had seen on duty, and carefully passed the note without making eye contact as though he'd done it many times before. "Move along, citizen."

This is how the next few weeks in the city went. Stretches of boredom with only the dust dancing in the light from the window to keep him occupied, followed by brief flashes of excitement and danger. Uriah's missions had him surveying the seedier parts of town from the shadows as raucous laughter and bawdy songs spilled out of the city's rougher taverns. He lifted paperwork from city officials’ offices and delivered what could only be bribes to hooded figures in the night. He even followed a caravan far out of a city keeping detailed notes on where they traveled.

As he had much time alone to think, Uriah started to believe that his job as a skilled mercenary so far from the front lines was to seek out an enemy spy. Finally, after another long and boring wait, Uriah received the note he'd been expecting: a small black parchment containing only a single name. Letting the parchment burn in the single candle in his room, he started to plan his next moves. Prepare, perceive, plan; Uriah began his next task just as he was trained. He knew that he could be saving far more lives by unmasking and eliminating a turncoat than he would have on the front lines of any battle. Uriah followed his mark with a grim satisfaction, happy to finally be helping his cause and his comrades on the front lines, even though they might never know.

On his selected night, a thunderstorm rolled in and added another distraction Uriah could use to make his way to deliver justice to the saboteur. He waited in the rain near the top of a tall tree he'd selected that had an excellent view into the bedchambers of his target. Even though his quiver was full of arrows, Uriah knew he'd only need one once he caught his target unprepared.

Now that everything was in place, Uriah only had to wait until the time was right. He was prepared to ignore all of the rain rolling into his boots and the wind stinging his eyes, but he was unprepared for his own doubts. Why would the local governor be a spy? He already had power, wealth, comfort and connections, so wouldn't he have more to lose by spying? Why were the bribes needed if he was on a mission for the kingdom? The realization that had been slow to come over the previous weeks hit him like a ton of bricks: he had not signed up to be a guard or counter-spy for the home-front; he was an assassin.

A glint of metal in another tree shook Uriah from his shocked realization. He saw another in the tree expertly aiming a black crossbow as his former target. Without thinking, Uriah loosed an arrow at the would-be assassin. Down the tree and back over the wall, Uriah was mounting his horse back at the inn before the other assassin's body had even been discovered. He threw a fistful of coins on the ground to cover his last expenses and was galloping out of the stable as the last coin was still rolling to a stop. Once again, Uriah was on the run from what he'd become.

For months, Uriah traveled the wilderness. Once again, he moved close to the Elven territories to avoid encountering any that might seek to capture him. In the back of this mind, he hoped to meet up with some of his former traveling companions from the relatively carefree days of his caravan-guarding job.

He spent his time hunting game and defending himself against bandits and Elvish raiding parties, while avoiding Aerdy's soldiers at all costs. He took jobs guiding families and small groups of traveling merchants through the unfriendly territory. Uriah came to realize that he was between two large and spread-out forces that were moving ever closer to each other and toward open combat. Some days he could only hide in caves or behind a ridgeline as scouts and raiding parties moved past. He passed his time by re-reading some of the documentation he'd stolen and the papers of his previous orders he'd kept in a new light. He'd been used and he was holding the only evidence he'd ever have of what he'd been ordered to do.

With his small sliver of uninhabited wilderness growing smaller every day, Uriah made his way into a small village to see if he could hide among the people until the first waves of soldiers passed him by. He rode into town in early dawn when a small poster at the front of the inn caught his eye. There was a drawing of a face on the poster that looked strangely familiar. Uri's breath caught in his throat as he recognized the face. Once again, he was off on his horse before he'd even read the poster:

WANTED:

Thief, Spy, Murderer

Uriah Goodman