Jaeger "Fleetfoot" Brogason

A young thief just looking to get by...


Race: Saxa
Age: 13
Height: 5’1"
Weight: 40kg
Hair Colour: Dirty Blonde
Eye Colour: Green

Agility – D6
Smarts – D6
Spirit -D6
Strength – D4
Vigour – D4

Fighting (Ag) – D4
Notice (Sm) – D6
Climbing (St) – D6
Streetwise (Sm) – D6
Lockpicking (Ag) – D6
Stealth (Ag) – D6

Edges – Alertness, Fleetfooted
Hindrances – Young (M), Cautious (m), Enemy (m)


Jaeger was not like the other Saxa boys. It had been hard to notice at first, up to a certain age all boys look much alike; first chubby and rounded, then gangly and awkward and then… then the differences become obvious. Jaeger’s younger brother, Erik, had always been big for his age but now he stood a clear half a foot over Jaeger and nearly as much again across. All of his friends, gentle Edwin, fierce Skuli and the introverted Runolf, stood at closer to 6 feet than 5 and seemingly had unending strength. In his younger days he had been close to Gytha, the daughter of the blacksmith that lived a few doors down from himself, but as the other boys had become men, at least as the Saxa see things, she had found less and less time for him, instead laughing heartily at Skuli’s course jests and smiling at him often. It pained him, though he could not work out why.

His family were not well off. His family had arrived as a part of the Saxa mercenary army in 440 and were subsequently granted citizenship. His grandfather had died a couple of years before, cursing the Orcs, the Senate and the barman when he cut him off, which was frequently. No one mourned him particularly strongly though they may have felt differently had they known more about his time in the war and how much Orc blood he had had to spill to put his family even into their current meagre state. To assist with the family’s financial concerns Jaeger put his particular abilities, as well as his naturally small stature, to use thieving as and when he could. It started with food, nothing much you understand, a loaf of bread or maybe some fresh vegetables so the evening stew could taste of more than hot iron. Then it was meats and fish. One night he came home empty handed, limping and with a bruised face. Then his family could not ignore the young lads gifts for what they always told themselves they had been. A fight ensued, his father decrying the lad for having no honour as a thief and Jaeger throwing back that at least he managed to feed his family. His father’s backhand caught him unaware and he stumbled. Silence fell, broken only by the gentle sobbing of his mother. Without a word Jaeger fled into the night, his eyes stinging with pent up tears far worse than his cheek did.

It has been 3 days since that night… and Jaeger has still not returned home.

Jaeger "Fleetfoot" Brogason

The Rising thegamesdrive matt_swift1990