Osran McConaughey

My father once told me I was born on a night with no moon in the highlands of Scotland in a farmhouse that had been in my family for generations. I am the 2nd of 4 children -- 3 boys and a girl.

It was during the 2nd plague of the century that both my parents and brothers died. My little sister and I were spared the plague. Being only 7, I was sent off to be apprenticed, and my sister, only 3, was fostered to the Church. I've never seen nor heard from her since she was sent away. I do hope she fared well and found happiness.

I was apprenticed to a blacksmith, and a more foul, mean-spirited man there never was. Oh, he kept me clothed and fed, but he more than got his worth out of me, oft taken with a whip or a strong hand. I'd been there 4 years, and had grown quite a bit, when the bellows exploded 'cause the smith did not open the vent, blaming me of course, and my leg was near sliced in two.
As luck would have it, our town didn't have a barber surgeon -- I've come to know they'd have cut the limb off without a thought -- and the midwife sewed as neat a seam as possible out of my torn leg, using poultices and powders to keep it from rotting off.

When I was well, I could think of nothing but getting my revenge on the blacksmith, making him pay for the pain he'd caused me. It took me two years, but I finally found a way out.
I hitched the biggest cart he had to the 2 horses with all the armour, weapons, tools, anvils and bellows I could load, and headed off back to the town where I was born. I drove under the cover of night, and eventually made it home, selling off most of the weapons and armour in places less likely to ask where I got them. I kept the best pieces for myself, and set up shop as a journeyman blacksmith.

I eventually met and married a woman by the name of Mary, and we had 2 children, Robert and David.
One night while I was sitting at the fire drinking large amounts of whiskey with fellow tribesmen, our town was attacked. It reminded me of the stories my grandfather told of the English invasions when William Wallace was alive, before the Wars of Independence. Most of the town was destroyed as was my home.
They thought they'd killed me when they slashed at my chest and sent me to the ground, but because of the drink, I watched, unable to move, as they killed both of my sons, and raped and killed my wife. The wound wasn't so deep, but the loss of blood and all the drink kept me from chasing after them as they left laughing with most everything I had to my name. It was that night that I swore off the drink, and vowed revenge.

I wandered, traveling and taking odd jobs where I could, just to feed myself.
I eventually met up with a group called Antares Mercenary Company. They took me in and taught me everything I needed to know about being a soldier. I eventually moved up in ranks to Sargent where I led my men into battle. I had high hopes that I would find the men that murdered my wife and children. That hope remains unsatisfied to this day.

After I'd been with Antares a while, I met a woman named Bridget. We fell in love, were married and had a son we named Kendrick.

During one particularly bloody battle a year or so later, I noticed that the archers were far away from the actual fighting which meant that they lived longer than most in our profession. I eventually met some of their rank and took them up on their offer to join them -- the pay was even higher. I was still a soldier, now with a free company, but I had all the spoils from my previous rank. I fought gallantly in their ranks, but not wanting to move up again, I eventually retired a wealthy man. My wife and I have talked about leaving the group but they are our family and our friends. My wife's weaving helps to keep the group clothed and I have taken up an interest in woodworking.

We have since had another child, Finian, and we live with and follow the group where'er they go. It is a good life.