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  1. Characters
The Cursed
Player Character

Backstory

Like every morning Braz was woken by a screech and the sound of claws on the roof of the hall.

He turned over, picked up his net and sword and went outside. Since he was a young calf he had been chasing off the harpies from his village but today they were more persistent than normal. After a full hour of throwing stones and abuse at the harpies they left, scraping the food from the silo they had already ransacked days before.

Braz wearily turned to the small shrine dedicated to Mytros, walked inside and started to worship. The other minotaurs scoffed at this worship of one of the five but Garnox had led Braz to be more open minded for an answer,

As he knelt in front of the shrine he felt a warm wet sensation on his face - had a harpie caught him with one of its claws? Was he bleeding?

As he opened his eyes and touched his face he realised it was a tear. How long must he fight away this scourge? A petal fell from the shrine to Mytros and blew out the door.

He knew the stories as well as anyone. That generations ago the chief of the clan had broken an oath made to a flock of sirens that lived on the coast. Since then at least once a month a flock of Harpies would come and ravage the village, taking food and wounding the herd. The clan had moved, and moved again but the Harpies always found them in the end.

Garnox, an elder of the clan had always spoken about the need to lift the curse, that one day this would be done. He had been a mentor to Braz, teaching him the importance of healing, faith in Mytros, and the stoicism required to keep protecting the village. He was old now and Braz was the only one to look after him. He spent his days trying to divine the future with more and more elaborate vapour rituals.

Braz followed the petal as the wind blew it out the door. As his eyes followed it they were led to a strange colour of smoke coming from the chimney. Normally he would not intrude, but today he followed the petal.

Braz knocked but there was no answer. He tried the door, it was open. As he walked in he saw Garnox, eyes rolled back, his horns seemed to glow. “The prophecy is close, the time is due, you must head to the city to be free”. He was speaking in tounges.

Braz stood, stupefied for what seemed like an eternity before Garnox slumped into his chair. Braz rushed over to help.

It had been days now. He had not woken. He was unconscious, a smile on his face, his breath regular and strong, but unwakeable. Braz dripped water onto his lips every day but could not wake him.

Late in the evening, about a week after Garnox had fell unconscious he was in the farmhouse, filling the silo. In the distance he could see harpies circling. It was then, in desperation, he made the choice. He must follow the prophecy. Nobody else in the village believed Garnox and even less believed him but his mind was certain.

He picked up his pack and headed to the city.

Appearance

Braz has a head like a ginger highland cow with large horns. He is broad across the shoulder with a human torso, but bovine legs with cloven hoof. He wears a significant amount of jewellery, mainly cheap and sentimental but with a few significant pieces (the ring on his horn given to him by his mentor and a sign of his devotion to Mytros and the red ceramic string around his neck focusing his devotion to the people of Thylea.) He wears a red and white cloak, armour with a red trim which he spends evenings and periods of rest fixing and adorning.

His fringe is long and Braz has an annoying habit of puffing it out of his eyes. He spends a lot of time ideally chewing. Braz will change into his best vestments frequently when not travelling or in town for more than a few hours, these take the form of full-length robes in white, silver and red which would look solemn if it weren't for his constantly swishing tail.