Zantoss

 Ingame name: Zantoss 

Race: Zaraton

Age: 32

Gender: Male

Job: Soldier

Proficiencies: Spears-A, Combat-A, Charisma-B, Endurance-B, Sneaking-B, Knowledge-C

Personality: Loyal, Trustworthy, Vengeful, Convincing, Malevolent towards his foes, Sarcastic

Backstory: “Ahhhh!!!!” yelled Zantoss as he woke up in a cold sweat. It was the middle of the night, Zantoss looked up at the moon as it slowly covered the bright stars and hid behind those gray slick clouds. It’s been a month since he was banished from the Kingdom.. Finding any holes in the ground to sleep in as the cold restless nights pass away through time. Zantoss grew weak, weary, tired, he was lost in his own mind, not knowing what to do with this life he has in his hands, his own, no goals to strive for. He stood up off the ground and leaned himself against a tree, brown leaves scattered around the base. “Such an old tree”, Zantoss thought to himself. He began to think about what the King had done to him, his own King, threw him out to the wild, no home, no food, nothing... He left him out to rot and wither away. Zantoss began to grow angry at what his own King did to him, he was merely serving him as a citizen of Scrontull and a guard of The Sovereignty would do. Yet, he was a guard no more, he was just a worthless hunk of meat. Zantoss slid his back on the tree slowly sitting himself on the ground below; he began to daze off. The morning sun began to creep up behind the soft white clouds.. Zantoss was behind the branches, but the sun slowly crept through the holes of the leaves and caught a glimpse of his eyes, he awoke, staring into the sun, as if it were not burning his eyes to look into it. Zantoss had a dream of everything that had happened to him only just a month ago, his whole world came crashing down, but he had another dream. A dream to make a certain mans world crash, his heart started burning with a fire he had never felt before. Zantoss was angry, vengeful, for the first time in his life, he felt the need of revenge, he no longer just wanted justice. He knew if he were to enter any city or village now, he would be apprehended for entering a land he was no longer allowed to, but he did not care, the thought of bringing down the King with his own hands was burning with the back of his mind. Using the knowledge Zantoss had mustered up while working for The Sovereignty he knew the only way to get into his home and steal his goods back was to sneak in there as quietly as he could. Zantoss practiced sneaking for a month, he would try to get as close to rabbits, birds, or even slimes without being noticed or heard. He knew he would have to use this new found skill once he was able to catch a rabbit with his own hands, there was nothing left to learn sneaking behind such measly creatures, it was time for the true test; sneaking into Scrontull.

Two months had now slowly passed since Zantoss was banished, two slow, dragging, endless months they felt to Zantoss, but now he was ready. Zantoss walked over the the mountains of Falendoor, climbed them up half-way and saw the entrance to his old him, Scrontull. He wish he could just walk in and greet everyone with open arms, but that wasn’t how life for him was anymore, he had to sneak in thief like a petty thief to steal his own things back. He knew if he were to get caught the King would end his life, so he took his time and was patient with the guards and civilians paths and only moved when he was sure he wouldn’t be seen. Zantoss made it finally, he was at his own front door, of where he once lived, this was his home, but his home no longer. He gave out a smirk, “Finally, something to look forward to.” He extends out his hand to twist the door knob -click-.. Zantoss looks at the door with an odd expression, he twists the door knob once again -click-.. The damn door was locked! Zantoss became infuriated and almost yelled out in anger but knew he would be heard by the guards so kept his mouth shut. He sat down in front of his door and began to analyze the situation, he knew if he were to break the door down it would catch notice of the guards and they would see him. Yet, if he was quick enough to put on his armor and wield his weapon, he could fight them off. He knew if he fought them they would end up recognizing him and begin a search for him if he did manage to escape, which that was the second to last thing he would want, the first being caught of course. Zantoss just sat there with a blank expression on his face, he was stumped, he had no clue what to do, then he saw it... Across the hall was the clothiers home, he saw a mask, and he thought to himself. If he could break into the clothiers home, put on that mask, run at full speed across the room and hall to break down his own door to grab his own things, he could fight off the guards, and escape without them knowing who it was. For all they know it could've just been a random thief that was beyond terrible at pick-locking. Zantoss picked himself off the floor, set his feet on the ground and was ready to burst through the clothiers door.

Zantoss crunched his foot in the floor and bolted, he was able to get three steps before throwing his shoulder straight the door, a shiver like a bolt of lightning went from his shoulder all the way down to his foot, the pain of breaking through a door was one of the worst pains he has ever felt. “Damn the Zaraton for making such great doors”, Zantoss thought to himself. The clothier awoke from the noise of being broken into; before he was even able to realize what was going on, or even get out of bed, Zantoss put a swift and accurate elbow to the clothier’s head and knocked him out cold. “Go back to sleep old man!” Zantoss said in a sarcastic tone while snugging the mask tightly to his head. Zantoss looked across the hall from the room of the clothier, there it was, the door to his room. His armor, his weapon, his money, and memories, good old memories... Zantoss began to run, it seemed as time began to slow, step by step, he began drawing closer to his door, there was no stopping now. He put out his other shoulders to not dislocate the one he had just hurt and flew into the room, Zantoss skid across the floor crashing into the wall on the other side of the room. In the distance he could hear guards running over to the apartment complex to see what was going on. Zantoss quickly grabbed onto his spear, his good ol’ spear. He held onto his weapon so elegantly, so passionately, it wasn’t just a spear but a full extension to his body. The guards finally made it to the hall where you could see both rooms that were broken into, to the left was the clothier unconscious on his bed in quite a strange angle, but to the left was something the guards felt intimidated by. A man in a mask, jet black hair with a bit flipping onto the pure white mask of his, a jet black shirt and pants to match with his hair. His skin-tone was a dark grey, weary from the genetics of the Zaraton blood. Zantoss stood there, confident as ever, it had been months since he last held his weapon, his friend. The spear was being held on by the middle, with the length taller than a single man, the spear stretched across his back and the tip showing off to the side. Zantoss smirked, although the guards couldn’t see that, being he was wearing a mask, he lifted his left hand and waved at them to charge them. The guards being intimidated and not being trained as well as Zantoss began to run straight for him. Zantoss stood ground and saw a bucket on the floor, he kicked it up with his foot into the air, without moving the spear with it still to his side, he span and hit the bucket as if his spear was some sort of bat. The bucket flew straight at one of the guards making him stumble a bit and stop running. The other guard kept his charge, Zantoss had finished his spin, duck to the ground and swept the back of the spear to the guards ankles making him fall to the ground with quite the harsh landing. The guard that was hit by the bucket, grabbed it in rage and throw it towards Zantoss, he managed to dodge it but the guard was faster than he expected and swung at him with his sword toward the side of his ribs. Zantoss was able to block the hit of the sword with the spear but the spear itself hit him on the ribs and sent him knocking to the ground, he now knew he was in a bad position, he had to play dirty. He got the spear, and with a quick move the spear ran in between the guards legs hitting his groin sending him to the floor. At the same time the other guard was already up and sending out a stab with his own sword, Zantoss rolled to the side and the guard felt a shock as the sword hit the rough stone floor making the guard let go of his sword. Zantoss quickly got up, kicked the sword away and put the point of his spear to the guards neck. “Let me put this iron armor here on this mannequin and I will spare your life.” The guard laughed noticing that his companion was getting up to strike Zantoss. Little did he know, Zantoss already saw this attack coming, he flipped his spear around his body hitting a massive blow to the guards side behind him making him gasp for air and falling back to the ground. “Whose laughing now buddy?” Zantoss said in a condescending tone towards the guard. Zantoss quickly got the iron armor from the mannequin, put it on and ran off into the night. He kept running into the night, running past any dangers of the night not losing pace, he just kept moving, he was being safe just in case any guards or soldiers would come after him for going into Scrontull, he wanted to be ahead of them. With every step he took he grew tired, after breaking down two doors and fending off two guards his body was become exhausted. Not looking back he just kept running, he lost his balance and fell into a hole on the ground and knocked out from the fall and exhaustion.

The morning sun crept up on Zantoss like a thief in Moorhaunt, he awoke, still exhausted he inspected himself. He had a few bruises here and there. He knew he had to act now. The first part of his plan was achieved, he stole back his weapon, armor, and now a nifty mask to go with it. The only problem was, that was the only plan he had, what was he to do now. First, he had to find something to eat. He found some mushrooms and scarfed them down, still hungry he looked for anything to eat. Zantoss used his new ability at sneaking, caught himself a bunny with ease using the length of his spear, cooked it, and ate it. Now that his stomach was settled, he knew he had to change his appearance. He went up to a small pond and looked himself in the reflection, his skin, gray and weary from lack of nutrition, a long beard growing without anything having to shave it, his hair growing long and dirty from no upkeep. He cleaned the tip of his spear and began to cut his hair and shave his beard. He looked like a new man, he did not look like Zantoss anymore, he thought to himself “Perfect”. He started thinking that he could probably live in some village or city to plan out what to do against The Sovereignty now that he no longer looked like his former self. He was now going to use his new found mask to be his old self, Zantoss. Beginning to think to himself, what would be a name worthy of calling myself now? Using his old name would be foolish since he was a banished man, and if entered a place would be killed. He named himself after his father, Morris, the man that taught him how to be a good hearted person but not to take bad intentions from anyone, he made Zantoss the man he is today. Zantoss traveled and though Moorhaunt would be the perfect place to set himself up, a city ridiculed with crime, if you’re treated like a criminal, may as well hide with them as well, though Zantoss. He walked days to make it to Moorhaunt, and when he finally made it, he sighed in relief.

Moorhaunt was perfect for a banished man to stay, some of the Fierians weren’t too fond of the King due to the history of the 500 year war. Zantoss moved into a small apartment, it was cramped and not much room to move around, but it was good enough to sleep, eat, and plan his course of action. He worked for a few of the merchants and alchemists, bringing in meat, protecting the alchemists while they would gather materials, the miners even payed him quite well to go into the deep underground to collect ores for the smiths. After two months of doing petty jobs, some fun, some boring he had saved up quite a bit of coin for himself. He was able to practice with his spear, grew quite charismatic bartering for prices on jobs, although he wasn’t getting much practice in combat, he was still learning how to access certain situations with guards being this was a major city after all. He hated sneaking around so often, why cross paths with a guard when it isn’t need, he had to be careful even though he was now known as Morris. It had been four months since he had been banished by the King and everything was going according to plan, he had stolen his things back, was now living, technically hiding, within a city, and he was about to buy something he desperately needed to start the organization he would found and call, known as The Defiance. He bought himself quite a large space and turned it into a pub, it wasn’t just a normal kind of pub though, it was also the entrance to The Defiance. Before opening his pub he decorated it with tables, chairs, mugs, golden candles, but there is one thing that seemed out of place, for non-Defiance members that is. There was a lone water candle sitting at the corner of the pub, the candle signified safe havens and areas where Defiance members stayed. “This will be a fine sign and insignia.” Zantoss, or should I say, Morris, thought to himself.

Zantoss was finally able to put up his open sign to his pub, “Morris’ Pub”, he knew being a barkeep would be the best place to find people to join his organization being rumors and true feelings slide out quite easily with some good ol’ beer and ale. After a month of listening to rumors, stories, and straight out lies, he was able to be secretive and discreet to recruit some people for his cause. They helped him create the underground passage and the organizations headquarters deep within Moorhaunt, right behind Morris’ pub. Zantoss told every Defiance member of his story just making their cause even stronger and burning within the passion of their souls. The Defiance was growing strong, and the members were starting to grow in numbers and grow stronger as individuals. It is only a matter of time until Zantoss takes action against The Sovereignty, but everything has to be perfect, his plan must not fail, for there is no failure in Zantoss’ mind or dreams.