Odwin Drauwulf, Reiklander Roadwarden

WHFRP 3rd Edition Player Character Backstories:




Odwin Drauwulf, Reiklander Roadwarden:

You grew up the second son of a second son in the town of Bögenhafen, a fairly prosperous market center situated in the heart of Reikland approximately 50 miles south of the capital city of Altdorf. Your father, Corvin, was a roadwarden in the service of the Von Jungfreud family, making the patrol between Bögenhafen and Ubersreik until he was wounded during a terrible ambush on the road a few miles north of Stormdorf twenty or so years ago. As for your mother you really have little memory, she died of during the mysterious Red Pox incident that afflicted the town a decade ago. As for your two brothers Ulfred who was Odwin’s elder by six seasons was a soldier in the Altdorf Guard of Honor, from the last letter your family ever received from Ulfred they were on the march north but that was nearly twelve summers ago, and your younger brother Wolfram passed away from the consumption last Nachexen. Soon after Wolfram passed into Morr’s care, Corvin finally passed peacefully in his sleep at the ripe old age of 52. Before his death you spent a few weeks with him and the last words he imparted on you were “It’s a rum do this lot of ours, but never give up boy, fight the good ol’ fight for your ol’ da, it’s the men like us who make this world of ours a bit brighter…”

As the second son it was a family tradition for you to take on the mantle of roadwarden and when you came of age you packed up your rucksack, strapped your father’s old sword to your side and began your new life as a roadwarden in the service of the Von Jungfreud family.

It was during the first months that you met your future partner, the consummate optimist and good intentioned scoundrel Vigo Jaeger. The two of you trained together under the tutelage of the grim jawed Otto Klaus, laughed together, and when Vigo was married to his kind-hearted wife Bella, you were right there beside him. The two roadwardens patrolled the roads between Bögenhafen and Ubersreik for four years getting in and out of situations most men of the Empire would pass off as exaggerations and children’s stories, and it would be during one of these moments everything would come apart.

It was the 14th of Sigmarzeit, a Festag as memory serves, and you and Vigo were on patrol with four other roadwardens. You had pushed hard the last few days trying to get home to Bögenhafen for Bella’s birthday which was the coming Aubentag when things went terribly wrong. You were on second watch and dozed off for what could have only been moments, but a few moments were all that the beastmen needed. There was a horrific braying from the shadows and they struck. You are almost certain that Vigo never even heard the report from your pistol before the axe bit into his throat.

Today the night is little more than a half remembered blur, some nights images come to you in your dreams, men screaming, the terrible braying resounding from twisted, inhuman vocal chords, the way the moonlight made the trees seem to close in on you, and Vigo being cut down before he could even get a hand to his sword.
After that night you continued with the roadwardens for another few years, though without Vigo’s optimism and easy smile there in the hard times you grew more cynical and jaded until you realized that half the time the men you were putting your life on the line to protect were just as vile as the monsters that haunt the forests. As time went on it became more and more asinine, your heart was no longer in it. Eventually you simply didn’t show up for muster anymore and left Bögenhafen behind all together.

You took a room in Ubersreik and spent a good deal of your time drinking in a local dive called the Red Moon Inn all the while trying to drown your sorrow, guilt, and your father’s last words which kept echoing in your mind; “It’s a rum do this lot of ours, but never give up boy, fight the good ol’ fight for your ol’ da, it’s the men like us who make this world of ours a bit brighter…” It was during one of these drinking sessions where you met the dwarf troll-slayer called Burgrin Svenkrison who recognized you as one of “that damned fool Corvin’s kin”. Burgrin had apparently known your father a long time ago, just after you were born, and explained that he owed your father an honor-debt, something about saving Burgrin’s life without asking, but just the same or something like that, you didn’t really understand but since that day that grumpy old dwarf has kept you sober and you’ve even begun to warm up to him, something about the look in his eyes makes you feel like he carries his own guilt and burdens much like your own.

Now that you have begun to come out of the bottle again you finally realize your down to your last few brass pfennigs and have racked up a pretty serious room bill you won’t be able to pay. Now it’s time to find some work…