Name: Thomas Cale, referred to as Cale
Species: Human
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Appearance: Thomas Cale has aged horribly, the abuse he sustained at the sanctuary has marked him for life. His back is a rainbow of colours from greens to purple where the bruises are most prominent. He has long, dark brown hair that stops just above his shoulders where he keeps it, if not untidily. Cale wears a pair of black trousers with holsters for equipment that are re-adjustable. He also wears a black shirt that is tucked into his trousers, the shirt is sleeveless and of a low quality, as Cale is unable to afford high quality clothes. Over the rest of his clothes Cale wears a dirty Dark blue long coat that the shadows seem to play with, making it seem even darker then it is. Cales eyes are grey and seem devoid of most emotion, as Cale has learnt to hide emotion from his face, from risk of a brutal beating.
History: The Sanctuary of the Redeemers on Shotover Scarp is named after a damned lie for there is no redeption that goes on there and even less sanctuary. The Sanctuary of the Redeemers is a vast and desolate place - a place without joy or hope. Most of its occupants were taken there as boys and for years have endured the brutal regime of the Lord Redeemers whose cruelty and violence have one singular purpose- to serve in the name of the One True Faith.
In one of the Sanctuary’s vast and twisting maze like corridors stood a boy, about the age of 14 or 15, looking out of the window, whilst holding black robes in his hands, witnessing the latest delivery of young boys. They were early.
The boy was urged away from the window as his ears picked up a voice, booming towards him. “You there! What are you doing!?” The boy jumped and looked at the source of the loud voice. It was one of the Lord Redeemers, whom supervised the kitchen. He was fat this one, and well known by the Acolytes to be hard-of-hearing. The boy spoke quickly and to attention. “I was delivering this new garment to Redeemer Bosco, Lord Redeemer.” The boy said, a ball of sweat sliding down his back. The Redeemer looked satisfied with this answer, and walked back towards the kitchen doors. The boy spoke under his breath and cast the insult. “Sack of Lard.” The Redeemer stopped, and turned to the boy. “What did you say?” The boy smiled as realistically as he his unaccustomed face muscles would allow and replied, “I said you should be a Bard, Lord Redeemer, as your voice is like heavens cherub’n singing from up high.” The Redeemer raised his hand and struck the boy, casting him to the ground. The boy raised his hand to his face, the feeling of a red, thick liquid dripping from his cheek. The Redeemer stormed off to the kitchen, leaving the boy to deliver the garment.
Redeemer Bosco was the Lord Commander of the Redeemer army, leading in the war against the Antagonists who offended the Redeemers greatly with their worship of false gods and idols. They were not of the true faith and were to be expunged from the world created by the one true God. There were three loud raps on the door, The Redeemer looked up from his map, and exclaimed. “You may enter.” The door opened slowly, and the boy walked into the room, placing the robes on a wardrobe. “Ah, Cale, sit, I have a puzzle for you.” Cale was used to these puzzles, they tested his mind at creating tactics and battle plans. He placed the pieces on the map, and jotted down routes and orders for them. After two hours of sitting there staring at the board he had finished, the wound on his cheek had also closed. He stood up at the command of Redeemer Bosco, who observed the plan that Cale had mapped out. He looked at the acolyte, whom was also his zealot, and smiled. “A risky strategy, if it were to work, it would devastate our enemies.” Bosco stated, as he raised his hand, and struck Cale to the forehead. Cale did not fall. “But to make such risks, is to risk defeat, and the redeemers do not like change.” He then struck Cale again, and again. Cales face began to bleed from the trauma, as Bosco struck him again and again. Cale fell to the floor, and was instructed to stand, he brought himself up with a great deal of effort, his head was killing him. Bosco continued the brutal beating, Cale fell twice more from the blows he was receiving, on the second, he was ordered to stay down. “I will not be held responsible for whatever happens if you stand up, Zealot. Do not bleed on the floor.” At that pleasant note, Bosco left the room. Cale turned to his side and vomited the contents of his gut, which was nearly empty, and then some. His stomach wretched, causing him to wince and collapse from the pain. He pulled himself up once more, several minutes later, and managed to stumble to the door, before vomiting again, there was blood mixed with his bile. He struggled to open the door, and fell into the corridor.
Cale awoke several hours later, the sun starting to set. Panic swept over him, if he did not get to the Acolyte’s quarters for sundown, he would be beaten again, and possibly executed. The Lord of Punishment was looking to set an example. He hurried down the corridor, even those his chest felt like bursting, the pain spreading through his body as a current of electricity would through water. He winced as he stumbled down the last 3 steps on a staircase, but pulled himself up; he would die if he did not make it in time. He ran as fast as his legs would allow, and he was soon out onto the gravel floor. He broke into a sprint towards the Acolyte’s quarters, he fell multiple times due to the injuries he had sustained, but he was desperate. He reached the line of Acolytes waiting to enter the chambers, and joined on the end. Holding his ribs in agony.
It was several months later that Cale was alerted by one of the other Acolytes that there was food. Real food, not the crap that they were served every day. Cale followed the Acolyte, who needed him for his skills. There was a door, hidden in the bushes, rusty with age. There was a key in the lock. Cale turned it, the door opened, but protested loudly. They slipped inside, closing the door, and praying that they were not heard. They were in a tunnel, an unmapped section of the Sanctuary. Cale lit a candle that was made of boar fat, and started to walk with the other. “Where is the food?” Cale asked, the response he got did not please him. The other Acolytes looked guilty. “If you hadn’t thought there was food, you wouldn’t have come.” Said one of the Acolytes. Cale continued walking, hiding his emotions, for this was not the time. They came to a dead end, and the candle was dying out. They looked around for a door, but could see none. Cale looked up, and it hit him. He told one of the acolytes to hold the candle, and use his hands as a foothold. The Acolyte mounted Cale’s hands, and was raised to the ceiling, where there was a trap door. He pulled the hatch and knocked the door open. He climbed in. Cale raised the other one through the door, and then jumped up the wall, clinging to the door, and pulling himself up. Cale looked around, the candle illuminated the small chamber. There was a section of the wall that looked loose. They moved it, and to their amazement were above the kitchen. There were no people, but lay on the table were things they had never seen. Roast duck with seaweed, and cakes with cream. There was pork and beef, and chicken and lamb. There were foods that the boys had never even imagined. They dropped down, stuffed their pockets and made for the exit. They walked down the corridor, planted against the wall and being as silent as they could. They headed towards a large door, but were halted by the sound of footsteps. They ran back and up a staircase, with no idea of where it headed. Acolytes were not allowed here. They opened a door, and found themselves on a balcony. They were low to the ground, to keep hidden. After several minutes, one of the boys looked over the balcony, his expression changing to one of curiosity. Cale pulled him down, to keep him hidden. Cale peeked over the edge to a sight that was completely unfamiliar. There were people, but they were not like the redeemers, or the Acolytes. They had strange figures, with humps on their chests, and they were laughing. A sound the Acolytes had never heard, except only from the cruel laughter of the Redeemers. Cale crouched again, whispering to himself. “Oh my…” Cale then opened the door, and snuck back into the corridor. They sprinted down the stairs, where the large doors had been left open. The boys were lucky, they had cover of fog to get to the Acolytes chambers.
The next day, Cale was instructed to visit Redeemer Bosco. Almost certain that he had been found for the theft of the food, Cale feared the worst. He was navigating the maze like halls, when he came to a double door. It was slightly open. He peeked inside, to see the Lord of Punishment standing over a corpse. The Lord of Punishment usually examined corpses, and dissected them and studying anatomy, but this was different. It was
unusual . The corpse was odd, because it was not an Acolyte, it was one of the strange creatures he had seen the night before, and it was twitching. It was not a corpse. There was another one, who was squirming, trying to scream, but she had been gagged. “Shut up, I’ll get to you soon enough.” The Lord of Punishment exclaimed, as he continued his mutilation of the other. Cale did not know what pushed him to act.
The Lord of Punishment was fast, blocking a blow to his head from Behind. He knocked Cale to the floor, a look of pure astonishment on his face. “You just attacked me!? An Acolyte attacked ME!?” The lord of punishment shouted, as he brandished a butcher’s knife. He started to walk towards Cale. He raised the blade, and in desperation, Cale clutched the nearest surgical instrument, a scalpel, and thrust it into the Lord of Punishments leg. He stumbled backwards, sitting into a chair, even more shocked then he was before. “Bring me a towel, NOW!” he shouted, but Cale just stood and watched as he tried to stop the bleeding. Moments later, the Lord of Punishment was dead.
Cale hurried to the top of one of the archer towers, he had killed the Lord of Punishment, there was no redemption for him, when the body was found, Cale would be killed. He was followed by the girl, whom he had untied and instructed to follow him. She was scared, and did not speak, but she did as she was told. He got to a crack in the wall, and slipped his arm into it. He pulled out a rope. A rope he had spent years crafting from the hairs of Acolytes. He ran, followed by the girl, and got to the wall. He still had cover of fog, he would not be seen. He tied one end of the rope to the wall, and cast it down. He grabbed onto it, instructing the girl to get on his back. He had no idea how high the wall was, or if the rope was long enough, he just had to hope. The fog prevented him from seeing the bottom. He climbed down, wincing with the effort of carrying another person. He got to the end of the rope, and began to panic; he still couldn’t see the bottom. He couldn’t go back, he would have to drop. He closed his eyes, expecting to break his legs from the fall, he let go, but no pain. He dropped a few feet to the ground. A sigh of relief escaped his throat as he put the girl down. He grabbed her shoulders. “Can you talk? What is your name?” He asked, she considered him for several minutes, before replying. “Rena…my name is Rena.”
Cale travelled for many days, having to carry Rena every few hours, as she was unaccustomed to such journeys. They stopped only to sleep and hunt, and only when they were sufficiently hidden. The Redeemers would come looking for him, and they wouldn’t let him live.
“Bring me Thomas Cale, I want him alive, do you understand me? You are not to kill, or cripple, Thomas Cale. Anybody else in the way is expendable.” Bosco ordered the Redeemers, who departed shortly in search parties, seeking out Thomas Cale, the one who got away.
Powers: Cale has no special powers as such, but is extremely skilled in certain areas. He is able to pick locks with ease, and nearly never breaks lockpicks. He had been trained in unarmed combat, as well as with knives, swords, hammers and long range firearms (Sniper Rifles, Bolt-action rifles etc). He sustained an injury during training to his skull, when an Acolyte struck him with a stone. Since the incident he has become an efficient killing machine. He is able to read all actions done by his opponents, and his mind works extremely quickly. He becomes devoid of all emotion and focuses only on the fight, dodging and countering attacks and returning with just as much force. He will evolve as I Roleplay as him.
Personality: Cale has learnt to channel out his emotions, as to show emotion would to be beaten by the Redeemers. Since his escape he has started to show feelings, but mostly of anger and hatred. He does not know of kindness or compassion, but has a vague sense of right and wrong. He is cold, as if his heart has been turned to stone.
