Maillach

Faolan's maternal grandfather, was born and raised in the hills of the rocky Eastern Coast. His early life was no different from that of most boys, and his village was far enough from the ocean that the raids by the Northmen, though always the subject of firelight tales, never touched Maillach's life.

Longing to see the great cities of the Inwardlands, Maillach ran off with a merchant, eventually crossing the East Wall and trading his muscle for board and passage with a caravan on the Great Western Road. Every few weeks Maillach saw a new and different "Great Northern City", with smaller towns in between. The magic he saw terrified and amazed him. For ten weeks he was as happy as a young man could be. One day into weel eleven he killed a nattily dressed thief, who turned out to be the scion of a minor noble. Compared to a caravan guard, no noble was "minor" in the eyes of the royal court, and, as you might imagine, he was convicted of murder, proclaimed a slave, and sentenced to fight in the arena until such time as he died.

For over eight years, Maillach fought in the "Eight-walled Ring" at Sawyerville, and in all that time he was not beaten. Some of this was because of his great strength, fast reflexes, and the disciplined cool-mindedness with which he fought. Another reason that he suceeded was the way in which his career was managed. From the beginning, the tall, blonde, handsome Maillach was a crowd favorite, so his owner, Don Rego, orchestrated his career to draw the maximum number of spectators without putting his prize at serious risk. Maillach was matched with older gladiators who'd been injured or past their peaks, young gladiators who hadn't been sufficiently seasoned, and notorious criminals, who, despite their infamy, were not top-quality fighters.

Maillach knew that this would not last forever, and that the day was not far away that he would be matched against a young gladiator to boost that man's career. He began making plans to escape. He did not have free run of Rego's compound, but he managed to seduce a serving girl who did. He persuaded her to set a series of fires, and during the confusion the two seized the opportunity to escape. They had arranged food and supplies, even using walnut essence to darken their hair. The escape succeeded.

While Maillach was never close to being Gladiator One, he knew that many thousands had seen him fight, and that he would eventually be recognized if he stayed in Tory Anglia. He had found himself feeling a responsibility to the girl who aided his escape, as she had sacrificed everything to save him. He did not love her, but, being a man of honor, he took her back to his home in the hills of the Easterlands, where he made her his wife and fathered three sons and a daughter on her. She was a good wife, and over time he came to cherish her. They had a small farm, and raised fat, wooly goats. They had a good life for many years, far from the power of the Anglican lords whose only claim to this land existed on paper.

In Maillach's forty-seventh year, the brigand Northman Marik the Half-mad started leading raiding parties further and further inland. One of these raids left Maillach's sons and wife dead, and his daughter, a beautiful lass of 16 years was taken. Maillach, who had been away leading a group of men against what had been a feint attack, lost himself in rage and grief.

While Maillach was no longer a young man, he knew the business of blood. Three nights later, he found Marik's camp, and leading his group farmers and shepherds, crept in and took the Northmen in their sleep, butchering thirty-seven of the uncouth bastards. Three of the Northmen, including Marik, made their escape, but the men were happy to have rescued the seven young women, though they were maids no longer.

Fleeing from the wrath of the Northmen, Maillach took his daughter and moved to another village, one further up in the hills. He did his best to set aside his grief in order to aid his daughter's healing, for she was all that he had.

Unfortunately, Maillach's daughter never truly recovered from her ordeal, and when she found that her rapists had left her with child, it was as if a shadow fell over her face that never again let in the Sun. She birthed a large, boisterous boy, with ginger hair and mismatched eyes--one green and one blue. His incessant howling prompted his grandfather to call him "the little red wolf". She showed little interest in her son, though she never protested when her father brought the babe to her breast. Her strength began to return gradually, and, by the time the boy was weaned, Maillach's daughter had resumed the chores that would be expected of her, though any could see that there was no joy in her life.

When Marik was captured the following year, the villagers who had caught him put him to fierce torture before he died. In his pains, Marik claimed that in return for sparing the lands farther north, he had been given license by the Anglian Crown to rape and reave in these parts. When Maillach heard of this, he made the toughest decision of his life: he forswore his thirst for vengeance against the Anglian Crown so that he might care for his daughter and grandson.

Three months later, Faolan's mother leapt to her death from a bluff. Maillach, now grey and gouty, was left to raise the boy on his own, and he crossed the East Wall and headed South in search of a place devoid of painful memories.

Maillach had missed most of the build-up to the civil unrest that followed King John's re-assertion of his royal power over the Southrons, but once there was a chance to kill the Anglian King's minions, he set to with gusto. Maillach had settled in a middling town, working in, and eventually running a small inn (after he married the fat widow who owned it). During this time, he took every opportunity to pass information on to "the Greenback Rebels" regarding the Redlegs' movements, and he was not above serving a few tainted dishes to the Redlegs who frequented his inn. Maillach knew enough about the mages of the North to keep an eye out for Redlegs that wore bronze blades, and he was extra diligent about reporting their movements.

The next breaking point in their happy story came one day when a pair of Redlegs attempted to assault Maillach's grandson. This scuffle ended abruptly when Maillach, like the Angel of Death, descended on the distracted soldiers. Striking with a large ladle and the mallet he used to hammer the bungs into kegs, Maillach leveled each of the soldiers with vicious blows that ceased to fall only after the Redlegs lie motionless. Both men bled from their mouths, noses and countless gashes on their scalps.

The room fell silent, as Maillach, though now an old man, was an impressive, blood-spattered sight. With his face expressionless, he pulled his grandson to his feet. Maillach's heart was cold, and his mind was racing. He found that he missed this feeling.

There were too many witnesses for this to stay quiet for long, but Maillach used the awe he'd just established to make everyone sit down and be quiet. The slowly growing pools of blood around the Redlegs seemed to have the men and boys hypnotized. Still possessing his ability to think clearly and calmly, Maillach had Faolan retrieve as much money, food, and clothing that could be packed on a mule, then had him pack it. He walked over, barred the door, and nailed the bar in place. Once Faolan had brought the horses and mule around back, Maillach told the patrons to stay in place, to stay quiet, and not to try to leave until nightfall, if they wanted to live. Everybody was too stunned to notice how, for the first time, Faolan obeyed without hesitation or question.

Maillach made the most of the time that he had, and the two rode out way east of town to an area that Maillach knew to be frequented by the Greenback Rebels. He met with one of his contacts, and arranged a place for he and his wild-spirited grandson to lay low, in the hope that they would not be pursued by the occupying army.

The days stretched, and slowly turned into years. Maillach, despite being slowed somewhat by his years, turned to be a far superior swordsman than any of the rebels he met. He began training the militia's men in the weapons he knew so well--short sword, buckler, spear, and cestus. He taught them the small group mixed-weapon tactics that he had used in the Arena's team fights, as well as exercises to strengthen the hands, wrists, and shoulders. Maillach earned the respect of the militia leadership, and, in time, his voice was heard in their councils.

Maillach allowed his grandson to train, but he strived to keep him out of combat. Maillach knew of Faolan's sneaking off with the Night Fighters, but decided not to press the issue, as he knew that a big conflict was coming, and he believed that all on the Frontier needed to be prepared. He devoted himself to the preparations called for by the Frontier Militia's leaders.

The Redlegs had been apprised of the militia's plan, and a large Redleg force, with both fire and air mages, descended upon the camp that the Greenbacks had thought secret, well before the militia was prepared. The militia was routed, and all but wiped out.

Faolan heard that his grandfather had made his escape, but other rumors told of his capture or death. Faolan searched for two months, but never was able to find more than rumors and contradicting stories.

On a trip to Anglia City, Faolan met a Miner named Orin Ironheart, who is a master sword-smith. Orin knew Maillach, and spoke very highly of him.