Knight of Eternal Sunshine.


Description: Apparent age 19, Date of Birth 774CE, Hair: Golden, Eyes: Bright emerald green, Race: Human/Sidhe Changeling, Nationality: Frankish, Height 5’2", Weight 140lbs, Sex: Male

Demeanor: Martyr

Tradition: Orphan

Cabal: Jericho

Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 3, Stamina 3, Charisma 3, Manipulation 2, Appearance 7, Perception 2, Intelligence 2, Wits 2

Abilities: Alertness 2, Awareness 3, Dodge 3, Expression 2, Intimidation 1, Leadership 1, Subterfuge 3, Etiquette 1, Melee 3, Performance 1, Investigation 2, Linguistics 2, Occult 2, Lore: Fae 3

Backgrounds: Avatar 5, Fae Gifts 1, Node 1, Resources 1

Arete: 2

Spheres: Correspondence 2, Mind 2, Time 2

Willpower: 5

Quintessence: 5

Paradox: 0

Resonance: (Dynamic) Ephemeral 1

Merits: Fae Blood 4pts, Honored Birthright (Sidhe) 5pts, Light Sleeper (Never Sleeps) 3pts, Oracular Ability 3pts, Unaging 2pts

Flaws: Vulnerability (Cold Iron) 4pts, Primal Marks (Fae eyes & ears) 2pts, The Bard’s Tongue 1pt


Herein is recounted the story of Adalric the Second, the cuckold child of a Firstborn Prince of the Summer Court, cursed of bastard blood and Knight of Eternal Sunshine. Whose crime of birth so enraged his mortal mother’s husband that Adalric struck his would be father down to protect her life. Thenceforth exiled from the realm of Man and so departing for Arcadia and was lost within the Mists. Whereupon jealousy, court intrigue and his bastard heritage separate him from his loving father. Who, being forced to choose between dishonoring his lineage and accepting an unending vigil in mortal lands departs the Dreamrealms with a promise to return in sleep. Findeth he that much has changed during his timeless Summer spent among the Kithain, for the world is not as he recalls and he no longer dreams…

Mon Pere, which is to say the man I first thought was he for I am of bastard blood, Lord Adalric the First, was a knight of high repute. At the least, what he lacked in station he made up in ferocity and they say he rode in the personal scara of Charlemagne during the Saxon Wars. The King of the Franks and Emperor of the Romans, having found no shortage of wars during his lengthy reign thus occupied my father so that I grew nearly to manhood before chancing to meet my presumed father.

Until the fateful night before his arrival, when I was to be presented as his progeny, I knew precious little of his character. I knew from the flinching servility in our retainer’s tones at the mention of his name that he was a stern master. Once I happened upon a letter intended for my mother penned in his hand wherein he commanded that I should be raised obedient and strong. Much of the rest had been torn asunder. On the matter of my father, all the members of our household were meekly deferential when pressed and silent else wise. Thus, he was something of a mystery to me as I grew. Before long I noticed that our seneschal and most of the minor landholders beholden to my father seemed to avoid me, showing marked discomfort in my presence. That something was amiss seemed assured, yet no one would dare to speak it to me nor could I glean anything further.

And so I paid no mind, seeking the simple comforts of my mother’s company and the earthy ways of the servants. Many of the children my age seemed afraid of me as well, often making the sign of the cross as I approached. I took it to be the simple superstitions that the Church so loved to extol, for my appearance was not as theirs. I took heart in the pleasures of the woods behind the manor. Fools told stories of evil Fae who would devour wayward children in this tiny forest glade. Yet I found in them a place of wonder and enchantment. It was there I learned that to those who would listen, the animals had voices! I was harshly beaten the night I told my mother of this who implored me never to mention it again.

In this way the seasons passed with me living two lives, a secret one in the wood behind the manor where the forest animals and I undertook great quests armed with oak branches for swords or held feasts embroidered in moss finery and the quiet and the secluded life of the manor boy stealing bread and wine from the kitchens to provision my next campaign in the grove.

To be continued…


Jericho MarcusMorrisey