Zakaram Whitlock

Description:

Standing at 6"0", 179 lbs, Zakaram (zak for short) though slightly above average height is a very slender build for his young age of 25 as a human. Despite his efforts to keep up his appearance, his life as a lower class citizen is very apparent by his thrown together ensemble and tendency to never speak unless directly spoken to; even then taking a moment to ensure all his greetings are proper to whom he is speaking. His most notable feature is his eyes, which are a bright emerald green, a telltale sign to skilled magi with knowledge of psychic / spiritual practices (though they are slightly less apparent when his guardian isn’t present). A quiet demeanor lends him to going mostly unnoticed in situations and conversations, though his lack of quick wit (or any wit really) and plentiful patience means you will usually see him observing others talk as he deliberates with sir Geth mentally back and forth for both advise and “commentary” on what he observes around him.

Bio:

Born the only son of Hirra and Joseph Whitlock, Zakaram has been a citizen of the city of Tukin his entire life. His mother a serf in the royal palace, his father a meager soldier in the army, the 3 of them lived simply, though relatively happy as members of Tukins’ lower class. Despite his dream to be an official knight of Tukin, Zak was plagued from a young age from constant malnourishment and several other small ailments because of it. His parents were informed while he was still young that he wouldn’t even qualify for basic draft when he came of age due to his poor physical condition.

He knew full well the main reason his parents never had another child was because it took everything they had already to not lose him, thus the news hit him exceptionally hard. Eventually pulled out of his depression thanks to his parents guidance, Zak began to search for other goals to pursue in life, if for nothing else than the sake of helping his parents.

Even at a young age Zak already understood the importance of money, to him it was the longed for times when he could have food, and he was no stranger to joyously following his parents to the markets when these times came around.

Now however, Zak had more motivations to spend time in the markets, especially while both his parents were off working. He spent months wandering between shops and carts, listening in on conversations, on barters, offering free labour to merchants in exchange for simple tips or advice whenever he could get away with it (sometimes even scoring a small piece of food from more generous individuals). Despite the good overall reputation he had earned, most still looked down upon him simply for his low station and his actions were seen as flowery begging and sometimes even attempted thievery by more judgmental shop owners.

In spite of all of his efforts, two major hurdles still stood before Zak. For all he had learned, not even the most generous of shopkeepers would keep him as a hire simply because he couldn’t perform even the most basic of labour’s for any sort of extended time, on top of being a slow learner. The second being that he had know way of acquiring the start up funds or supply to begin his own business, nor would his morals even consider shadier options of achieving his goal.

Feeling a thorough case of heartbreak and defeat, the day or Zaks’ coming of age had passed, without getting drafted or finding other success in life, not even finding another family to marry into that would take him because of his condition. Only his parents undying support even at this point was all that kept him from collapsing. For the first time in many years, he went to visit the old knights’ monument, a centerpiece in the cities graveyard that he used to visit when he was younger. The many names scribed across it always filled him with wonder and pride as he envisioned all these amazing, devoted members of the country; save now he felt an overwhelming feeling of unworthiness as he approached.

That feeling vanished rapidly when he began to approach the monument, as he realized there was already a small group of young men there, despite the hour being rather late and the relatively small amount of visits the moment got normally. Aghast, he quickly realized they were defacing the monument, thankfully not noticing his approach as he took cover in the shadows. It did not take long to recognize them as he listened in on them, hoping to turn them in to the authorities later on.

All four of them were roughly his own age, luckier young men who had been drafted, mostly middle class families to boot. Like any other middle class children they had a terrible case of entitlement and little tolerance for him during the weeks of the drafting process, though at the time he thought little of it due to how typical it was.

“I still can’t believe they honor these morons. Nothing but a bunch of glorified civil servants that run around doing the kings basic chores and wiping his arse for him. If you ask me they should be out fighting instead of licking the hand of the kings’ boots, maybe then we wouldn’t have to be drafted for this stupid war.”

There back and forth continued, but at that point Zaks’ pride and anger swelled as he flung himself out of the shadows at them, cursing their names for the sheer injustice of both their words and actions. Unfortunately, after the surprise quickly wore off, Zak was leveled out on the floor just as fast. Both outnumbered and outmatched by all four of them with several broken ribs and many bruises, they continued to mock him as they added to his injuries, using him as a scapegoat for their frustrations.

It didn’t take them long to put him within an inch of death when one of them declared:
“Even better, now all we do is turn him in and tell the lieutenant he was responsible for the defacing, thank you peasant, you actually made yourself use full this day.”

To this day what happened after that is still a blur to Zak, when he regained himself, he awoke in the local prison, apparently late the next day. He was informed that he had slaughtered all 4 of them in cold blood, each of their heads cut off and their bodies left in a bowing position at the monument. Though most peculiar as the officer pointed out, all of their minds were shattered, the families respective churches and clerics couldn’t even bring them back from the dead.

The ensuing trial was a bit of a blur for Zak, after being tested it was discovered he had psychic potential, shortly after he and the guards involved found out he had acquired a guardian phantom in the form of Sir Geth Ironriver, a former knight of Tukin who had passed away in combat some time ago. The politics surrounding the ordeal took a while to sort out, though Zak was immediately conscripted into the military (not that he was all that opposed). It took almost three years of training, and growing accustomed to Sir Geths’ presence, however he and his parents were both swollen with pride at this turn of events.

As punishment, aside from conscription, he was made to serve directly for the city during the demon / abherant invasion which started shortly after his conscription, the families of the men he killed were hoping for his “fitting” demise. Much to their jargon, Zak lived to see the end of the war, all the while coming to better understand Sir Geth and the situation he found himself in.

They both agreed it was rather, unorthodox.

Zakaram Whitlock

Liberty TheDreadedMoo