Ledan
| Age 23 |
| Gender Male |
| Origin Veya |
| Occupation Paladin/Brotherhood of Bastards |
Ledan The Righteous
Portrait of Ledan, in celebration of his noble slaying of the Black League, scourge of The Free States.
Syr Ledan, the Hero of Veya, stands as one of the Free States’ most cherished champions—a noble paladin whose very name carries the weight of justice and honor.
Born a bastard son in the gutters of Veya, abandoned to the streets with nothing but his will to survive, Ledan’s earliest years were steeped in hunger and hardship. Yet even then, his heart beat not for himself but for others. Taken in by a crumbling orphanage, he labored tirelessly, running errands, hauling goods, and fighting in the alleys when he had to—all to keep bread on the table for the younger strays who had no one else.
Every coin he earned went to his brothers and sisters of circumstance, never once to his own comforts. Many of those he saved would one day recall him not only as their benefactor, but as the reason they lived long enough to find true families.
When he came of age, Ledan turned his eyes toward the greater good. With years of careful saving, he bought his way into the hallowed gates of Highcrown Academy, the most esteemed martial school in all of Illica. What followed was nothing short of legendary. Instructors whispered of him as a “generational talent,” a swordsman born once in a hundred years. He bested veterans twice his size, mastered divine channeling before most even learned the prayers, and graduated in record time, his name etched into the rolls of honor with words of awe.
No sooner had he left Highcrown than he gathered his own company of lawbringers, a brotherhood of steel and faith sworn to sweep away the shadows plaguing his home city. With sword and flame, they drove the gangs, slavers, and hidden cults from Veya’s streets, earning him his first title: The Shield of the Orphaned.
But Ledan’s light could not be contained by one city. For years, he and his band roamed the Free States, striking like a storm wherever darkness had taken root. In Sira’s Hollow, he single-handedly broke the siege of the Red Thorn Bandits, holding a crumbling gate for three days and nights until reinforcements arrived.
In the marshes of Elserin, he uncovered and destroyed a coven of warlocks who had been sacrificing innocents beneath the waters. In the desolate north, it is said he fought a duel against a knight corrupted by fell sorcery, and though the battle left his armor shattered and his body broken, Ledan rose, radiant, to strike the final blow.
Yet his greatest trial came against the Black League, that vile consortium of murderers, smugglers, and slavers who had bled the Free States for years. Called The Scourge of the States, they were a terror whispered of in every tavern and market square. Ledan did not hesitate.
With his company at his side, he launched a headlong assault on their mountain stronghold at the base of the Mheara Range. For three days they fought, outnumbered ten to one, steel clashing against darkness in a battle sung of to this day. One by one, his companions fell, martyrs to the cause. Yet Ledan endured. He cut through the League’s leader in a storm of steel and righteous fury, beheading the villain and raising the head high for his dying brothers to see.
Alone, wounded but unbroken, he carried that grisly trophy across the Free States, presenting it to each city wronged by the League’s cruelty. In doing so, he not only proved their tormentors dead but rekindled the faith of the people in the strength of justice. From that day forward, he was more than a man. He was the Hero of Veya.
Ledan The Bastard
Ledan was born a bastard on the streets of Veya, a city that chewed up the weak and spat them out. Short, wiry, and frail, he had no means to endure the long hungry days or the freezing nights. By nine, he had already turned to crime—petty theft, muggings, whatever kept him alive. His true purpose revealed itself only when he met others like him: abandoned sons cast aside to rot.
They called themselves the Brotherhood of Bastards. Five in number, they swore an oath of survival above all else. In the eyes of Veya, they were just another gang, but to the Bastards, they were family. Their numbers grew, their influence spread, and soon merchants were paying them “protection” to be left alone. For Ledan, the shift from hunger to comfort should have been enough.
It wasn’t.
Ledan was the youngest of the five, and unlike the others, he had no special gift. Duscan could peer into the past, others mimicked voices or bent reality itself. Ledan was merely there. While the others earned admiration and notoriety, he was overlooked—resented as a child among men. His love for his brothers soured into envy, envy into hatred. Duscan, especially, became the focus of his malice. Too beloved. Too respected.
Ledan corrected that imbalance. A secret whispered into the wrong ear, a subtle push in the wrong direction, and Duscan was gone, sold into servitude by the betrayal of his own brother. Ledan never even bothered to remember whose hands he delivered him into. The only thing that mattered was that he had won.
Still not enough. Not enough power, not enough adulation, not enough respect.
Ledan's power and influence has grown after Duscan's disappearance; He and those who followed him quickly began to commit acts far beyond what the Brotherhood would normally deem acceptable. Kidnappings, ransoms, murder-for-hire, smuggling and trafficking -- If it is morally bankrupt, Ledan has a hand in it.
But his genius, that which has finally brought him the power and respect he desires, is the mask he wears.
When his schemes draw too much blood and the people cry out for aid, Ledan dons the armor of a noble knight. He appears at the head of his chosen men, gleaming in steel and banners, as though he has come to liberate the city from chaos. In truth, he is merely answering a fire he himself has lit.
He strikes down rivals he has secretly empowered, shatters plots he has himself spun, and always leaves the people convinced that salvation has ridden in on his blade. His “victories” are nothing more than theater, yet the crowds cheer, desperate to believe in the paladin who has risen from the gutter to fight for them. The more blood on his hands, the brighter his reputation shines.
The legend of the Hero of Veya grows with every campaign. Ballads are sung, children are named after him, nobles clasp his hand as though his touch might sanctify them. Ledan drinks in every word of praise and plays his part with a zealot’s fervor. He dines with the highborn, comforts widows, blesses children, and in every whispered prayer, he makes sure his name lingers.
What none of them see are the bribes passed in shadows, the hushed threats that keep tongues still, the carefully staged “rescues” of innocents who had been his prisoners only hours before. He is not just a villain wearing the skin of a hero—he is the one writing the stories by which history itself remembers him.
On rare occasions when the chaos is not of his own making, Ledan’s mask slips, and the paladin’s warmth curdles into menace. Those who oppose him are offered choices, never freedom. They can kneel and pledge themselves to his League, or they can watch their families vanish, their fortunes bleed away, and their heads roll in the dust.
Many break quickly under his smile; others resist until their bodies decorate city gates. Ledan bears no anger, no passion—only cold efficiency. To him, men and women are pieces on a board, to be moved, sacrificed, or shattered in service of his ambition.
Thus is born the so-called “Hero of Veya”—not through valor, but through treachery, manipulation, and cruelty. A false champion, his blade serves no god, no state, no people but himself. And still the Free States cheer, blind to the truth, their beloved savior standing tall while the corpses beneath him grow ever higher.
Portrait of Ledan, in celebration of his noble slaying of the Black League, scourge of The Free States.
Syr Ledan, the Hero of Veya, stands as one of the Free States’ most cherished champions—a noble paladin whose very name carries the weight of justice and honor.
Born a bastard son in the gutters of Veya, abandoned to the streets with nothing but his will to survive, Ledan’s earliest years were steeped in hunger and hardship. Yet even then, his heart beat not for himself but for others. Taken in by a crumbling orphanage, he labored tirelessly, running errands, hauling goods, and fighting in the alleys when he had to—all to keep bread on the table for the younger strays who had no one else.
Every coin he earned went to his brothers and sisters of circumstance, never once to his own comforts. Many of those he saved would one day recall him not only as their benefactor, but as the reason they lived long enough to find true families.
When he came of age, Ledan turned his eyes toward the greater good. With years of careful saving, he bought his way into the hallowed gates of Highcrown Academy, the most esteemed martial school in all of Illica. What followed was nothing short of legendary. Instructors whispered of him as a “generational talent,” a swordsman born once in a hundred years. He bested veterans twice his size, mastered divine channeling before most even learned the prayers, and graduated in record time, his name etched into the rolls of honor with words of awe.
No sooner had he left Highcrown than he gathered his own company of lawbringers, a brotherhood of steel and faith sworn to sweep away the shadows plaguing his home city. With sword and flame, they drove the gangs, slavers, and hidden cults from Veya’s streets, earning him his first title: The Shield of the Orphaned.
But Ledan’s light could not be contained by one city. For years, he and his band roamed the Free States, striking like a storm wherever darkness had taken root. In Sira’s Hollow, he single-handedly broke the siege of the Red Thorn Bandits, holding a crumbling gate for three days and nights until reinforcements arrived.
In the marshes of Elserin, he uncovered and destroyed a coven of warlocks who had been sacrificing innocents beneath the waters. In the desolate north, it is said he fought a duel against a knight corrupted by fell sorcery, and though the battle left his armor shattered and his body broken, Ledan rose, radiant, to strike the final blow.
Yet his greatest trial came against the Black League, that vile consortium of murderers, smugglers, and slavers who had bled the Free States for years. Called The Scourge of the States, they were a terror whispered of in every tavern and market square. Ledan did not hesitate.
With his company at his side, he launched a headlong assault on their mountain stronghold at the base of the Mheara Range. For three days they fought, outnumbered ten to one, steel clashing against darkness in a battle sung of to this day. One by one, his companions fell, martyrs to the cause. Yet Ledan endured. He cut through the League’s leader in a storm of steel and righteous fury, beheading the villain and raising the head high for his dying brothers to see.
Alone, wounded but unbroken, he carried that grisly trophy across the Free States, presenting it to each city wronged by the League’s cruelty. In doing so, he not only proved their tormentors dead but rekindled the faith of the people in the strength of justice. From that day forward, he was more than a man. He was the Hero of Veya.
Ledan The Bastard
Ledan was born a bastard on the streets of Veya, a city that chewed up the weak and spat them out. Short, wiry, and frail, he had no means to endure the long hungry days or the freezing nights. By nine, he had already turned to crime—petty theft, muggings, whatever kept him alive. His true purpose revealed itself only when he met others like him: abandoned sons cast aside to rot.
They called themselves the Brotherhood of Bastards. Five in number, they swore an oath of survival above all else. In the eyes of Veya, they were just another gang, but to the Bastards, they were family. Their numbers grew, their influence spread, and soon merchants were paying them “protection” to be left alone. For Ledan, the shift from hunger to comfort should have been enough.
It wasn’t.
Ledan was the youngest of the five, and unlike the others, he had no special gift. Duscan could peer into the past, others mimicked voices or bent reality itself. Ledan was merely there. While the others earned admiration and notoriety, he was overlooked—resented as a child among men. His love for his brothers soured into envy, envy into hatred. Duscan, especially, became the focus of his malice. Too beloved. Too respected.
Ledan corrected that imbalance. A secret whispered into the wrong ear, a subtle push in the wrong direction, and Duscan was gone, sold into servitude by the betrayal of his own brother. Ledan never even bothered to remember whose hands he delivered him into. The only thing that mattered was that he had won.
Still not enough. Not enough power, not enough adulation, not enough respect.
Ledan's power and influence has grown after Duscan's disappearance; He and those who followed him quickly began to commit acts far beyond what the Brotherhood would normally deem acceptable. Kidnappings, ransoms, murder-for-hire, smuggling and trafficking -- If it is morally bankrupt, Ledan has a hand in it.
But his genius, that which has finally brought him the power and respect he desires, is the mask he wears.
When his schemes draw too much blood and the people cry out for aid, Ledan dons the armor of a noble knight. He appears at the head of his chosen men, gleaming in steel and banners, as though he has come to liberate the city from chaos. In truth, he is merely answering a fire he himself has lit.
He strikes down rivals he has secretly empowered, shatters plots he has himself spun, and always leaves the people convinced that salvation has ridden in on his blade. His “victories” are nothing more than theater, yet the crowds cheer, desperate to believe in the paladin who has risen from the gutter to fight for them. The more blood on his hands, the brighter his reputation shines.
The legend of the Hero of Veya grows with every campaign. Ballads are sung, children are named after him, nobles clasp his hand as though his touch might sanctify them. Ledan drinks in every word of praise and plays his part with a zealot’s fervor. He dines with the highborn, comforts widows, blesses children, and in every whispered prayer, he makes sure his name lingers.
What none of them see are the bribes passed in shadows, the hushed threats that keep tongues still, the carefully staged “rescues” of innocents who had been his prisoners only hours before. He is not just a villain wearing the skin of a hero—he is the one writing the stories by which history itself remembers him.
On rare occasions when the chaos is not of his own making, Ledan’s mask slips, and the paladin’s warmth curdles into menace. Those who oppose him are offered choices, never freedom. They can kneel and pledge themselves to his League, or they can watch their families vanish, their fortunes bleed away, and their heads roll in the dust.
Many break quickly under his smile; others resist until their bodies decorate city gates. Ledan bears no anger, no passion—only cold efficiency. To him, men and women are pieces on a board, to be moved, sacrificed, or shattered in service of his ambition.
Thus is born the so-called “Hero of Veya”—not through valor, but through treachery, manipulation, and cruelty. A false champion, his blade serves no god, no state, no people but himself. And still the Free States cheer, blind to the truth, their beloved savior standing tall while the corpses beneath him grow ever higher.
Appearance
| Height 6'2 |
| Build Muscular |
| Hair Blonde |
| Eyes Grey |
Syr Ledan cuts the figure of a knight out of legend: tall, broad-shouldered, and built with the lean strength of a man honed by battle. His hair is a pale, sun-bleached blond, falling in unruly locks around a pale face carved sharp with high cheekbones and a strong jaw framed with long sideburns.
His eyes are a piercing steel-grey, cold and calculating, able to shift in a moment from the warmth of a savior’s smile to the predatory glint of a killer.
He is most often seen in the trappings of a noble warrior: a gleaming cloak draped over armor polished to a mirror sheen, his sword ever at the ready. When he is not portraying his false persona of valor, Ledan dresses in a much sleeker, slender style, trading his armor for expensive sable skin vests and rabbit hide boots and gloves.
His eyes are a piercing steel-grey, cold and calculating, able to shift in a moment from the warmth of a savior’s smile to the predatory glint of a killer.
He is most often seen in the trappings of a noble warrior: a gleaming cloak draped over armor polished to a mirror sheen, his sword ever at the ready. When he is not portraying his false persona of valor, Ledan dresses in a much sleeker, slender style, trading his armor for expensive sable skin vests and rabbit hide boots and gloves.
Personality
Wearing the guise of a Paladin, Ledan is a charming, noble, and kind man with a strong sense of justice. The Hero of Veya desires only what is best for The Free States, and is willing to put his life on the line to better the lands he has called home for his entire life. Championing the virtues of love, family, and community, Ledan is respected for his humanity just as much as he is for his feats on the battlefield.
Behind his mask, Ledan is a veritable sociopath, with little concept of shame or remorse for those around him. The only loyalty he holds is to himself and The Brotherhood of Bastards, and the actions he takes are all in the name of power, recognition and monetary gain. Unfeeling though he may be, his Brotherhood does still mean something to him, even if the love he holds for them has been corrupted by his unquenchable ambition and jealousy.
Ledan has an addiction to attention. There can never be enough eyes on him, and his name can never be on enough lips. Whatever complex has twisted his mind, the constant search for affection it has led him on has left Ledan a miserable and spiteful man, unable to confront his own sadness and loneliness that led him to this point in the first place.
Behind his mask, Ledan is a veritable sociopath, with little concept of shame or remorse for those around him. The only loyalty he holds is to himself and The Brotherhood of Bastards, and the actions he takes are all in the name of power, recognition and monetary gain. Unfeeling though he may be, his Brotherhood does still mean something to him, even if the love he holds for them has been corrupted by his unquenchable ambition and jealousy.
Ledan has an addiction to attention. There can never be enough eyes on him, and his name can never be on enough lips. Whatever complex has twisted his mind, the constant search for affection it has led him on has left Ledan a miserable and spiteful man, unable to confront his own sadness and loneliness that led him to this point in the first place.
Skills
While he hasn't been formally trained as he's claimed, Ledan is a proficient swordsman and duelist, having won many battles without the trickery he usually employs. He also enjoys breeding and raising horses, one of the few hobbies he finds true enjoyment in.
Ledan is a talented manipulator, adept at conveying emotions he does not feel. Originally, this was put to most use in service of The Brotherhood, both for recruiting purposes and twisting the arms of the locals to cater to the Bastards' whims. While he still performs these duties, his silvered tongue now serves him well in his ruse as The Hero of Veya.
While often working alone, Ledan exhibits strong leadership skills, and a powerful tactical mind. Well-known for planning several steps ahead, those who follow him trust Ledan with their lives without question.
Ledan is a talented manipulator, adept at conveying emotions he does not feel. Originally, this was put to most use in service of The Brotherhood, both for recruiting purposes and twisting the arms of the locals to cater to the Bastards' whims. While he still performs these duties, his silvered tongue now serves him well in his ruse as The Hero of Veya.
While often working alone, Ledan exhibits strong leadership skills, and a powerful tactical mind. Well-known for planning several steps ahead, those who follow him trust Ledan with their lives without question.
Art Credit: Oschu, Lillie
Attachments
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