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[Image: wratt_zps7cz9dv2v.png]

Name: Wratt Cervant
Age: 58
Gender: Male
Nation/Allegiance: Ilia
 
Appearance/Description: Wratt is a scraggly looking fellow standing at 6’1”  and weighing 180 lbs. His pale hair is a result of his advanced age. It’s generally combed back: he thinks it makes him look fancy for the clients. This contrasts with his unkempt facial hair and bushy eyebrows, so the look pretty much evens out.
 
Wratt wears the ugliest armor anyone has ever seen. No army on the face of the planet would adorn their men in the color of feces. It serves as a reminder of his humble beginnings in Ilia. It’s a standard build for most soldiers: it covers his upper body, hips, calves and feet. A purple collared shirt and tan pants keep the armor from pinching.
 
Wratt isn’t one for fancy weapon. It doesn’t take much to make a formidable weapon, so he doesn’t pay a fortune for jeweled hilts. An old iron sword from the local blacksmith will cut foes just fine. He’s not adverse to upgrades, but he’s more function over style. Though his primary weapons are sword and crossbow, he’s fought enough with lances and axes to use them if he has to.
 
Finally, Wratt carries around a leather notebook with names and brief descriptions of all the women he had nightly encounters with.
 
Bio/Backstory: Wratt was born into a family of pig farmers in the mountains of Ilia. His father spent his life covered in pig shit, as did his father and his father before him. His brother was set to inherit the family position, but Wratt wanted something greater. At 16, he joined the countless youth across his homeland and traveled Elibe as a mercenary. For years, he would follow contracts set by the Ilian government and fight for whatever cause they saw fit. He didn’t particularly care what that cause was, so long as it paid well. What really upset him was the employer’s lack of loyalty. On one mission, his band of mercenaries were ambushed by bandits. As it would turn out, that was the plan: he and his team were unknowing bait while the main forces took out a bandit compound. He made it out as the only survivor. That day, he learned the true purpose of the mercenary: expendable pawns in whatever war was in vogue at the time.
 
At 25, he left the Ilian’s mercenaries and became an independent contractor. He had the freedom to choose which backstabbing nobles he would work with. His philosophy: if you think everyone is trying to screw you, you’ll never be surprised. Being independent, he wasn’t bound to the alliances of his own country. One day, he would be fighting alongside Sacaen tribesman against bandits. Once the contract was fulfilled, he’d be just as easily be hired by the bandits. This gave him a Sacaen name, roughly translated to mean “one who is full of shit and no honor”. He has since been banned from Sacae.
Wratt did not celebrate his paydays alone. He had a very active love life, full of one night stands before he set off for the next job. This lifestyle came to a head in his later years of life. One night, with one woman he was wooing, he had the strangest sense of déjà vu. As he listened to the maiden’s story about her mother, a sense of dread filled Wratt. He had slept with her mother decades prior. This woman could very well have been his daughter! He spent the rest of the night alone, drinking himself into a stupor. He could have illegitimate children all across Elibe without realizing it. It was then he began keeping records of the women he messed around with. Though his love life didn’t slow down, he would not end a conversation without knowing who his date’s mother was.  
 
It was his lifelong dream to one day track down all his children and form a new mercenary guild called “Wratt’s Bastards”. At the very least, he wanted to make sure there was a sizable inheritance for whoever he could find that carried his blood. That way, they too would be able to get more out of life and not be covered in pig shit, metaphorical or otherwise.
 
In recent years, Wratt has formed a rather lucrative partnership with the Lycian Empire and the Church of Preservation. They typically needed someone who would do dirty work that wa beneath the priests without sacrificing valuable soldiers. Contracts ranged from dispatching troublemaker mages to retrieving artifacts. The moral arguments did not phase him: everyone had some nefarious agenda as far as he was concerned. He worked for whichever asshole was the highest bidder. As of this writing, no one has outbid the Empire.
EPILOUGE
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Wratt Cervant died on the island of Valor after the events of Return to the Dread Isle. He was separated from the group during the fighting and was lost in the fog and darkness. By the time he had reached the interior of the island, the mercenary was engulfed by the holy purging fire of Aureola. Though he assumed he would meet his end getting backstabbed by the wrong employer, what a way to go! In his last moments, Wratt took solace that his final moments would not be as a lowly pig farmer like his family before him.

He would regret not fulfilling his dream of finding his children and making them a better life than he had. No inheritance would be left for them, save for the literal vaporization of their paternity. No longer bound by his past and actions, his children would be free to make their own fate in the world. Perhaps that was enough...

"See you in Hell, you damned preachers!" -Wratt Cervant's last words

*RETIRED*