Lawful Good Human Fighter
As long as Seiken has been alive, he has been taught of the grand service that his family has given to the Adherent Order of Vindicators, from the very first day of the Order’s inception to the present. For Seiken, service and honor became inseparable from daily life in Theonis, and his childhood was filled with instructions on battle and warfare, to continue the legacy of the family’s proud history, instructed alongside his brother, Sharton. The two brothers were close, but while Seiken’s talents lended himself well to martial training, he was shocked one day to learn that his brother was being sent abroad to hone a talent for arcane teachings. Seperated from his sibling while barely reaching his teens, with parents who held high expectations and took no excuses, Seiken buried himself into the studies of swordplay and tactics.
Seiken took to his studies with a natural talent that impressed several of his instructors, some even going so far as to call him a prodigy. Be it natural talent or hard work, Seiken’s devotions paid off; he was a swordsman with few peers, and was unquestionably loyal to the Order and its goals. Alongside his time upon the sparring field, he had also taken study with the artisans in the smithy, where he learned the craft of armoring at his Father’s command, and for a very specific purpose…
After the foundation of the Order, Seiken’s ancestor had wished to give a visual message to any false messiah that appeared: an unmistakable sign that their crimes were recognized and would be punished without mercy. Using old and nearly forgotten texts along with carvings and paintings that adorn the Pillar’s exterior, his ancestor forged a set of armor in the style of the lost Amurites. While none, including the smith himself, would dare say that the armor was far from the quality that the Amurites would have produced, the goal had been achieved. Tempered blue-black iron plates overlapped to form a faceless nemesis that betrayed no emotion; a silent ghost from the past to bring down righteous vengeance. From that ancestor to the present generation, the descendant’s formed their own armor in similar fashion as a symbol of their devotion to the Order’s goals. Seiken is no exception, and is expected to finish his own armor soon.
Despite, or because of his devotion to his martial training, Seiken has little in the way of social instruction, and he finds himself uncomfortable among larger groups and prefers to remain out of the spotlight. He cares little for fame or politics, focusing his attention on studying the teachings of the Saints, or honing his skill with his greatsword.
Underneath his loyalty to the Order and its teachings, Seiken has had slowly growing doubts about the methods he has seen and heard used by the Order in its quest. Compounding this, the waning influence of the Sovereignty to even enforce the teachings has led him to wonder if they truly do serve the Overgod… and what would happen if the True Messiah did emerge and the Order’s blades spoke before their lips? These questions itch at the back of his mind, but Seiken has been able to keep himself from dwelling upon them. For the moment, he eagerly awaits his brother’s return from the Colleges, a warm welcome prepared for his long departed sibling.
Seiken’s travels left him embittered but still determined to try to save his kingdom. As more revelations came on the truth of his home, his faith, and his enemies, a great uncertainty took hold, keeping the man quiet while he faced what seemed to be an unending conflict. A desire for more knowledge constrained by the duty set upon his shoulders became an overwhelming frustration, and it quickly became a burning rage.
The revelation of the truth of the Overgod and the Heralds almost broke him, and he was faced with an impossible task: obey the being he had revered his entire life and murder millions, or defy his faith and succumb to the inhuman monsters who had sunk the nations into war.
At the heart of the Herald’s stronghold, Seiken walked away, resolved to never join his enemies, but at the same time, not sacrificing his humanity. He returned to his home to prepare for the final battle.
When the Herald’s army came, Seiken threw himself into conflict again and again, always at the forefront of the fighting, bellowing challenges and slaughtering any foe that came within reach. His adamantine blade, Memory, cut through ranks of the so called “elevated,” ending their horrific existence. Seiken had lost everything; friends, family, a chance for happiness. All he knew now was war, and he poured himself into the battle with a fury unmatched and never before seen. Still, he was a single man, and slowly the armies were pushed back to the foot of the Pillar. Those closest to the fight say that Seiken’s rage calmed for an instant as he looked to the vast structure, as though something or someone caught his attention. When he turned back to face the invaders, those who survived remarked on a look of serenity over his face… no longer the hardened, embittered man who had witnessed too much suffering and death… but the young man who he had been so long ago. He stood amidst a pile of corpses, his blade coated in blood, waiting patiently as Grand Iron strode forward to finish off the last Vindicator. Oxley, newly converted elevated, watched on.
The two clashed with all their skill and fury. Seiken’s blade swept out time and time again but failed to find the decisive blow; Grand Iron’s flail whipped through the air, each time turned aside by Seiken’s greatsword. Their blows traded so quickly that it was said that the air was filled with the constant screech and grinding of metal on metal. No one could say how long they fought; both wounded the other, each was unwilling to yield. Finally Seiken found his opening… a sweep of his sword sliced through the armor forming Grand Iron’s ankle, causing the metal titan to stumble to a knee. Blade raised high overhead, Seiken brought Memory down with all the strength he could muster, while Grand Iron raised his own weapon to guard against the blow, but to no avail. The blade carved through the flail and Grand Iron in a single strike. Falling into a heap of twisted metal, a long due vengeance was finally paid.
Yet the moment of Seiken’s greatest victory came his greatest betrayal. Even as he stood over his fallen foe, he felt a presence close down on his mind. Too weak and tired to muster the will to shake the spell, he felt his arms and legs grow immobile. He could still see, and he watched Oxley slowly step forward, dagger held in one hand. Even though he was no longer capable of showing emotion, Seiken could almost feel the desperation and rage from his longtime ally. The metal body leaned in close, so that only Seiken could hear the following words.
“Why? Why didn’t you want to live forever?!”
Incapable of answering, Seiken simply managed a soft smile, despite the spell. In pity, disgust, or fury, Oxley sunk his blade into Seiken’s neck. The spell broke, and Seiken fell, coughing a few times before growing still. The Herald’s victory came swiftly after, and Oxley strode up the steps of the pyramid to shatter the beliefs, bringing the Herald’s ideology fully into power. In tribute to his old friend and ally, a great shrine was built to honor Seiken. Of the last vindicator, rumors persisted about what happened after his fall. Of his sword, it was lost after the battle, though some witnessed a woman kneeling beside his body for a moment before gathering up the blade, disappearing afterwards. Others claim that his body was seen clutching the symbol of the Architect, despite prescribing to the teachings of the Martyr his entire life. Whenever asked of him, Oxley refused to answer, instead growing uncomfortably quiet. In the end, the last vindicator fell in battle, yet somehow found a peace he had sought… perhaps reaching a knowledge and acceptance of his death, or as some say… discovering a hidden truth at the last moment that gave him comfort as he faced the void.