He was not born into greatness, but into hunger. The fifth son of a crumbling noble house, he inherited little but dust, a old sword, a swaybacked horse, and a crumbling mill. Too poor to curry favor and too proud to beg, Conrad turned to the roads.
Where law is weak, Conrad makes his own. He leads a ragged band of outlaws and disillusioned men, raiding trade roads, burning fields, and extorting villages too poor and too terrified to resist. No prayer stays his hand, no treaty binds his loyalty.
Appearance
A barrel-chested man with broad shoulders, thick arms, and a heavy step. Thick in the waist, but not from soft living, but from hard fighting and harder drinking. Some people say he can drain a barrel faster than a priest can bless it.
Personality
He's brutal, dull-witted but cunning in violence, quick to anger and slow to forgive. Conrad keeps a rough sort of honor. He despises cowards, and those few who could earn his respect found him a loyal, if violent, ally. Yet to the lords and townsfolk of the region, he is a scourge, someone to be eradicated or paid off. Villages that fail to pay his "protection" are burned. Merchants who resist are hanged from their own carts.
He does not seek a greater cause. Conrad exists for blood, gold, and the next mug of ale. He is known to be weak when it comes to women, especially if they’ve got a pretty face.
Pray the roads will stay silent, that the dust on the horizon is only wind...
