Character creation

Former Watchman of Niole Dra
Cleric of Wee Jas, the Ruby Sorceress

Antonius Block — Appearance
Antonius is in his early thirties, broad-shouldered from years in the Watch, with the posture of someone accustomed to standing guard for long hours. He is not ostentatious; his strength lies in stillness.
* Height: Just over six feet
* Build: Solid, functional muscle rather than athletic grace
* Hair: Dark brown, kept short and practical
* Eyes: Steel-gray, steady and assessing
* Skin: Weathered from years on patrol; faint scar across his jaw from a dockside knife fight
He carries himself like a man who measures every room before entering it. His gaze lingers a moment too long on doors, exits, rooftops—habits of a former watchman. When others grow loud, he grows quiet.
His expression rarely shifts, but when he listens, he gives complete attention. People often find themselves speaking more than they intended under that steady gaze.
He smells faintly of incense and oiled leather

History
Antonius Block was born and raised in Niole Dra, a place of polished marble towers and shadowed alleyways. From a young age he understood that the city had two faces: one for nobles and merchants, and another for those who bled in its streets.
His father was a dock laborer who drank too much and spoke too little. His mother stitched burial shrouds for a modest temple, and as a child Antonius sometimes helped deliver them. He learned early that death was neither monster nor mystery. It was a certainty. Quiet. Patient. Fair in a way that people never were.
At sixteen, he joined the City Watch.
The work was brutal and clarifying. He broke up dockside riots, dragged plague victims from collapsing tenements, and stood grim-faced at public executions. He became known for his composure around the dead. While others turned away, Antonius closed eyes, folded hands, and ensured the bodies were treated with dignity.
During an arcane smuggling investigation, he met Eugenios Fizzlehelm, a sharp-witted gnome wizard retained by the Watch for difficult magical cases. Where Antonius was reserved and methodical, Eugenios was brilliant and excitable, forever muttering theories mid-sentence. Their temperaments should have clashed—but instead, they balanced.
Together they uncovered uncomfortable truths: evidence that certain noble houses were quietly shielding criminal enterprises, that investigations were being redirected, that suspects of "high birth" slipped free while commoners paid the price. Reports disappeared. Witnesses recanted. Superiors grew evasive.
Antonius began to understand something bitter: the law he served was not the law that ruled the city.
When a case involving grave tampering and forbidden magic was abruptly shut down—on orders traced to a noble patron—Antonius felt something inside him fracture. Justice in Niole Dra was selective. Death, at least, was not.
He resigned from the Watch two years before everything unraveled for Eugenios.
Seeking meaning beyond corrupted chains of command, Antonius turned increasingly toward the temple of Wee Jas. The Ruby Sorceress taught that death was sacred, orderly, and inviolable. Magic and mortality were not tools for the powerful—they were principles governed by law. In her doctrine, Antonius found what the Watch no longer offered: structure without favoritism. Judgment without bribery.
His favoured saying of the priestess’s: "We do not fear death. We enforce its proper place."
He trained quietly. Studied rites. Sat vigil beside the dying. Learned that death was not cruelty—it was balance.
Then, recently, word reached him.
Eugenios Fizzlehelm had been reassigned.
Officially, it was a promotion: an "independent investigative post" in a rural district far from the city’s political tensions. Unofficially, everyone knew what it was. A removal. A silencing. A way to bury inconvenient curiosity without bloodshed.
And now—Eugenios had reportedly gone missing.
No official notice. No public inquiry. Just rumors drifting back to the city like smoke: a burned cottage laboratory, frightened villagers, strange symbols found carved into cellar stones. Then nothing.
Antonius felt the old weight settle in his chest—the same one he carried when cases were buried and truth was denied.
He had left the Watch believing he had stepped beyond corruption. But the rot had followed his friend into the countryside.
Now Antonius prepares to leave Niole Dra once more—not as a watchman bound by compromised authority, but as a cleric of Wee Jas.
If Eugenios lives, Antonius will find him.
If Eugenios is dead, Antonius will see that his death was rightful—or avenged.
And if some cult or hidden power believes it can twist death into a political convenience, then Antonius Block will remind them:
Death belongs to the Ruby Sorceress alone.

Holy Symbol
Antonius’s holy symbol is a small ruby-inlaid skull medallion, worn on a black cord around his neck.
It once belonged to the temple in Niole Dra where he first trained. He grips it unconsciously when confronted with death, dishonesty, or moral compromise.
When he channels divine magic, the ruby catches light unnaturally — glinting even in dimness.

Practical Gear
Antonius travels prepared:
* A watchman’s whistle, kept though he no longer serves.
* A leather-bound investigator’s notebook, originally a gift from Eugenios Fizzlehelm. Filled with precise handwriting and sketches of strange symbols.
* A small red wax candle and flint — he lights it during vigils or before difficult decisions.
* A simple grave-shroud cloth square, folded neatly in his pack, to cover the faces of the dead when necessary.
* Manacles — a reminder that justice sometimes requires restraint before judgment.