“Today is the day, I am 20 and I am finally to take my Pendant and officially join the Sentinels here at the Tower of Solitude. After today I will no longer be Conner Brindley the orphan squire, but instead be Ser Conner Brindley the Sentry.” He quietly thought to himself as he made his way up the long winding stairs of the Bishop’s Tower towards the Grand Bishops office. Conner’s parents had died many years ago when he was but a boy. His father had succumbed to wine and ale too often and had perished from it and his mother had died birthing him, something his father seemed to relish reminding him off. When they were both dead an old friend of his mother came to collect Him, a priest no less, who he later came to know as Father Morselos. Morselos took him to the Tower of Solitude, where all the vile scum and villainy who could use diabolism as some of the priests called it were brought to live, in truth the “prisoners” of the Tower were men, women and children who could use the arcane arts and tap into the forbidden realm. There the priests and their more well-armed watchmen The Sentinels guarded the victims born with the curse from the realm and the realm from them.
Conner himself was a man of average height and strong physique, with skin that was fair and eyes of deep blue that revealed the ocean blood in him. His mother had been one of the seafaring people of the North Sea called the Orin, they often had bright golden blond hair and beautifully pale skin that contrasted their rich blue eyes some as deep as the sea itself. There were those with fiery red hair and freckles that dotted their faces. His father had been a portly and not to pious preacher of the port-city of Leyta that sat on the edge of a strip of land on the Ghostly Pass. The city was just 20 leagues from his current home, the Tower. The Ghostly Pass was aptly named as the ghosts of the innumerable seamen that had died in the rocky entry into Butcher’s bay no doubt still haunted the area. Conner had inherited his father’s brown locks that on Conner’s egg-shaped Orin face made him seem somehow wrong. The blond eyes, pale skin and his strong Orin physique seemed to clash horribly with the auburn hair.
Father Morselos had been his only source in regards to his parents for the memory of them had long since grown stale and faded. He had felt slightly guilty about forgetting his mother as the bits of memory he had of her had helped him on the cold and lonely early days of his training. As he grew older he would tell himself that he didn’t need her memory to keep her alive because she was still in his heart, though that was a lie he used to patch the wound. With the exception of the occasional fight he got along unnoticed and hence settled in nicely. Though for all the settling he could never quite shake the feeling of being in the wrong place.
Conner’s father had been abusive and a drunk. During the hours of the day he would preach the word of the Faith, still reeling from his drunkenness the night before and stinking of the strong ales he enjoyed. At night he would make his way to the local tavern drink himself into a hazed mess and stagger home to either beat on Conner because of the birds chirping outside, the rats in the gutters or just for being within hitting distance or collapse on the floor. Conner was near seven years of age when he found his father sprawled across his bedroom floor one early morning. His father often made it into his son’s bedchambers, thinking the bed to be his own. Only this time his father had only made it in the door before he died. That was the day it all changed. Conner Brindley lost his mother at birth and his father whilst he was still a child and without Morselos he would have surely lost his life soon thereafter.
“Conner, Conner!”, Conner turned around and saw him a portly boy with thick auburn hair that fell to his shoulders and framed a prepubescent face covered in the Pox. With peach fuzz, deep green eyes and an off-shaped nose probably the result of the vigorous training Sentinels went through. Maybe though it was a case of a physical bully Conner could never tell what damage was because of the bullies that roamed the Tower and what was a result of training a bit to hard. “Conner….Conner I….I… sorry.”, the boy said. “Take a second to catch your breath Eamon then tell me what has got you running after me up the stairs.” “You’re taking your pendant today huh that means that you’re doing the Hollowing right. You’ve got to tell me about it later Conner!” Conner looked down onto the young boys face, bewildered by the look that stared up at him. Eamon’s eyes spoke of the honor that was in officially joining the Sentinels although Conner had never really seen that look when he stared at the mirror in his chambers. The Pox had left Eamon some years ago though his face had seen many a battles before the war was won and so there were more scars than features to him. Though Eamon looked worse for wear with his thoroughly worked over nose and pox-scarred face he was as gentle as they came and loved tales of valor and knights. Often he would ask to listen in as the older Sentinels talked about their many adventures, His starry eyes never flinching. “You know I can’t talk about the Hollowing like everyone else you are just going to have to wait and see.” Conner turned around and continued up the stairs slowly making his way up the several hundred feet of stairs that stood between him and his Pendant, his honor, but before Connor could have it though he would have to face the Grand Bishop and the Lord Warden.