Paul Peterson

The Devoted Son


Paul is the shortest of the brothers at 5’9", but is the middle for weight at 200 lbs. Being the oldest, he has the most aged features, namely his hair.


The harvest was good this year, thought Paul. The growing season had seen an even mixture of rain and sun and the family’s fields had produced quite a bounty. Tonight was his turn to help Mom cook dinner. There was already bread in the oven, made from freshly milled wheat from the western field where Andy was working right now. Paul was carefully stirring the stew, adding in freshly diced carrots and potatoes as mom brought them in from the garden. As he finished plopping in the last of the carrots and was about to put the lid back on the pot, Paul heard a scream from outside.

Paul rushed out the back door and was met with a horrifying sight. There was a man in tattered clothing, with patches of skin falling of his face, revealing bits of his jawbone. Without thinking, Paul knocked the man to the ground with the pot lid, not realizing he still had it and the cutting knife in his hand. The man lunged at Paul’s feet, but was quickly stopped by the cutting knife plunging into the back of his neck. Paul barely had a moment to catch his breath, when he noticed her laying on the ground. There was Mom, her throat torn out. Paul began to choke back tears. In the distance, he could see a man on horseback. It looked like Dan returning from the market, but where was Dad? Suddenly, a shrill scream from the west fields snapped Paul back to reality.

“So your farm was attacked by a zombie?” asked the Inqusitior. “Several, from what I was able to learn from my brothers” said Paul. “Necromancy attacks such as this can be quite traumatic for a lot of people. You did well to defend yourself, all things considered” complimented the Inquisitor. “Thanks, I guess” Paul murmured sheepishly. “That said, we appreciate your interest in becoming a Paladin. Given all that you have gone through, we are accepting your application. We do have one final question before you leave: Why have you chosen to fight?” asked the Inquisitor as he began filling out forms and stamping papers. Paul blinked and thought for a bit. “So that others won’t have to.” The Inquisitor nodded. “The Oath of Devotion it is then. You’ll be training under Captain Jorgen. At the completion of your trials, you’ll be assigned to Squad 7. May you walk forever in the light.”

Paul Peterson

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