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Eynward the Paladin

I am Eynward the Paladin.

While my mother was against me constantly only building up my strength, my father decided to use that for the "greater good", and sent me to the churches to become a paladin. It was there I found my calling in protecting others. Being the stalwart wall that others may need.

My slightly tanned muscled form is 6 feet, 7 inches tall, towering over most others. I have short black hair, and small brown eyes. Some people say I look intimidating. I don't really believe that… though it might explain townsfolk keeping their distance from me.

I see myself as a protector, rather than a paladin, given I don't completely follow the tenets of the church I was sent to. So long as the ones behind me stay unhurt, my conscience remains clear… mostly:
I believe any creature able to reason has some good in them, and will go great lengths to find out the reason behind evildoers doing said evil, before passing any sort of judgement on whether or not they are justified.

Wanderlust strikes me! I want to begin an adventure, see sights, witness and stop troubles, and obtain friends along the way. May the ones behind me never fear whilst I stand betwixt them and the dangers ahead!.

Paladin Eynward

No one shall lay low Eynward the Paladin. I, Eynward, have died but am alive again! How can mine transgressions leave me with my 1st death to carry me downward overwhelmed in this waking dream? It is mine lack of motive.

Eynward the Paladin Post Play & MMORPG RPG Text

Advisor Description

T'was but one of the days I had come back to the Tavern for yet another drink (Of water, mind. Can't get used to the taste of beer.) when this armored chap walked up to the table I was sitting at, and requested an arm-wrestle.

I guess "requested" put it lightly, more like he came over and went "Ey." and put his arm up onto the table, hand reaching out towards me.

Naturally, I accepted. Maybe I figured if I put on a good show, maybe lose, they'll start finding me more approachable.

Put it simply, I didn't need to pretend to lose. The man beat me too too easily. I don't even think he broke a sweat.

Perhaps he saw some kind of talent in me. Perhaps through the display of strength and willpower he figured I wasn't actually trying to be scary. Perhaps he just took me in on a whim. Whichever the case, having someone watch my back and give me advice when I need it feels…

... Nice.