Lewis Hegeler

Lewis was born to two simple farmers: Stella and Morris Hegeler. He had
one older brother, Matt. His youth was spent helping on that
quaint Vilian farm, but he yearned for more. He wanted to see
places, meet new people. And even though he was very fond
of the animals, he wanted action, thrilling adventures.
Luckily, his parents were willing to set some money aside
so he could make the trip to one of the cities to join a
mercenary concern.

The day after his sixteenth birthday he left his village with
a small celebration fit for the first person in years to leave the
village and become something else than a farmer or basket weaver.
And so, he headed out, eventually finding a mercenary group willing
to accept him: The Crimson Lions.

It turned out he was a capable soldier: stoic, disciplined and able-

bodied. After his initial training, it didn’t take long before he got sent
off on missions.

Two years into his career, a month or so before he’d turn

eighteen, there was a bit of a dry spell. The Crimson Lions got almost no jobs, so money became a
concern, and thus morale dwindled while frustration grew among the soldiers. When they finally got
hired again, it was to nip some civil unrest in the bud. A few villages needed a show of force to be
reminded who they owed their taxes to. Problem was, the mercenaries got news of their payments
being delayed. Which often meant that they were not getting paid. Again. And that sparked the
plundering of the village they were currently teaching the meaning of taxation to.

Lewis participated greedily, entering a house inhabited by a poor couple. They kept repeating how
they didn’t have anything to spare. It might have been the weeks of malnourishment. Maybe he is
just an evil and selfish person deep down. Whatever the cause, fact is… he snapped.

His sword was coated in blood, the sources of the growing puddles lying motionless at his feet. As
the adrenaline drained away, the noise of a crying child penetrated his haze. He stared at the two
bodies of the orphan’s parents. An orphan, by his hand. His heart sank, as he fully realized what he’d
done. With trembling muscles, he walked towards the crying child in a crib. They couldn’t have been
older than two years, he thought. And he had just killed their parents.

It took him half an hour to gather the courage to touch the still crying infant. Though his hands had
refused to stop shaking, they seemed to calm down as he tried to soothe the child. While whispering
all sorts of empty phrases to the child, though one might claim they were meant for himself, he
contemplated what to do. He was a murderer. And though he might not be persecuted, he would
have to live with that guilt his entire life. Worse, he found, was the fact that he had robbed a child of
their parents, of a happy childhood.

Realizing what he had taken away, he promised to repair whatever damage he could. Thus, Lewis
waited until nightfall to sneak out with the infant, leave his mercenary life behind and find a place to
give this kid the childhood he had killed. He wandered for two days, cradling the girl (as he had
found out) in his arms the entire time. He had thrown his sword to the roadside, unwilling and
unable to deal with the guilt directly attached to it.
He had thought about going back home, but quickly decided he did not dare face his own family
after having destroyed another. After these two days, he arrived in a little hamlet. Martha, the local
old widow, was willing to give him and Culpa, as he had decided to name her, a place to stay. Lewis,
grateful that the widow didn’t ask questions, quickly found out that money was a problem when no
one was providing for the household. And so, he worked on the farm of the Wilkinsons for a while.
Though that proved to not to be very lucrative, unlike another profession he had more experience
with.

Luckily, he had Martha to look after Culpa. Or maybe not so luckily, depending on what point in his
life you’d ask Lewis. While Martha looked after Culpa, he could earn money as a mercenary. He
joined another group: The Griffon Company. They specialized in hunting monsters, something which
put him at ease quite a bit. He learned to use the shield and spear, refusing to use a sword ever
again. He felt a spear was more effective against creatures without a conscience, while the shield he
liked for its significantly less aggressive uses.

He sent almost all the money he earned back to Martha and Culpa, only keeping the bare essentials
for himself (booze being essential, he believes). He spent the winters with them. Though the guilt
never faded, he did find a semblance of peace. Every time he returned ‘home’, he felt his excitement
grow. He loved returning there and seeing how Culpa had grown. Yet, there always was that ever-
present, gnawing feeling. Guilt. Especially when she reached that age of endless questions. He still
hadn’t told Martha about what he did. And he didn’t know if he ever would. He could never tell
Culpa. She’d never forgive him. He knew it was selfish. He knew she deserves the truth. But she had
become his daughter, in a twisted way. He loved her as if she was his actual daughter. He didn’t
want to lose that.

And so, he kept the status quo. Martha was a great pretend-grandmother, still not asking him any
questions, yet somehow seeming to know what he did, and Lewis was a surprisingly good dad.
Though for just four months per year. One winter, the one Culpa turned six, they found a baby crow
with a broken wing in the forest. Culpa, delighted to have a pet, took great care of the little bird.
Though, somehow, the animal took more of a liking to Lewis. The two became inseparable; Sally
(Culpa insisted on naming her that) would always be seen on his shoulder. Except during combat,
she quickly learned not to dwell near him during fighting.

This tense, according to himself undeservedly blissful status quo lasted for another few years. He
taught Sally to fly home with his letters and coin, always returning to him with a letter from Culpa.
Often a drawing too. He climbed the ranks, gaining command over a group of six as sergeant. Those
six were not only his most trusted comrades, but his best friends. He was happy. The gnawing feeling
still present, but happy nonetheless. Until one mission went sideways. Really sideways. In a twist of
irony, a family of griffons tore Lewis’ part of the Griffon Company to shreds. Though he got away
because of a mix of sheer luck and pure determination to get back to Culpa, he had lost his job.

One near-death experience richer and one livelihood and six trusted friends poorer (and their ashes
richer), he started thinking. He realized that the mercenary life did not only barely let them scrape
by, it was dangerous. The risk-reward balance was… well, not very balanced. There was something
else, though. Another career where his skills could be put to use. A career where he could fulfill his
lifelong dream. A career that would put food on the table. A lot of food.

And so, he set out to the port cities, ready for a year of plundering and ‘yarr’ing as a privateer.
Culpa Morris

Martha Stella

Matt
Culpa
Culpa’s a twelve-year-old girl with an almost ever-present smile. She loves books and animals, one
interest gained from Martha, the other from Lewis. Every time Lewis would return from his
mercenary work, he’d bring her back tall tales and books filled with even more of those. She already
was a very curious child, but like many traits when nurtured, her curiosity grew. She longs to see the
world when she’s old enough, something Lewis has pledged to prepare her for. Both in terms of
money and skills.
She’s often asked her dad and Martha about her mother, but Martha always tells the same story
about Lewis arriving in the village with a little Culpa cradled in his arms. Her father isn’t much help
either, he always avoids the question or says he’ll tell her when she’s old enough.

Martha
A sour-faced woman with a steely gaze. But deep inside that thick, cold shell there’s a warm, caring
heart. She cares for Culpa all year round, taking only short reprieves when Lewis returns to spend
the winter.
She knew something was up the moment Lewis first set foot in the village. Guilt hovered over him
like a storm cloud and the way he held the baby, he was clearly not used to cradling an infant. The
way he cared for her, though, made her lose any doubts about his intentions. She’s given him plenty
of meaningful looks when Culpa asked Lewis about her mother, yet she’s never confronted him
directly.