Cadwallon

Always a rough and tumble sort of lad, Cadwallon had always wanted to be a warrior like his father Gruffydd; who had been fighting the picts in small skirmishes for years.

At the tender age of 5 he had seen his mother raped and finally murdered before his innocent eyes. He had only survived by diving under his mother's sleeping pallet when he heard the screams as the pictish raiders entered the village. Gruffydd had been out hunting hare for the night's stew and returned to find his village in shambles.

Upon entering his hut he found his wife violated and lifeless. He gathered her body into his arms, rocking back and forth screaming a wordless cry of grief until Cadwallon crawled out from under the rug and tentatively rested his hand on his father's shoulder, looking down at his mother with tears in his eyes.

10 years passed...Gruffydd had gone out of his way to teach Cadwallon everything he knew about weaponry, fighting, scavenging and ruthlessness while fighting against the pictish devils. Cadwallon himself had grown large and strong during the years and was proving to be, if not the best then certainly one of the best warriors amongst the group of men both he and his father fought alongside on the pictish border.

Growing up with nothing but men and war around him had the expected outcome with Cadwallon. If he didn't like you, you found out pretty quickly - in short, he could be a pretty mean bastard. He was always well-liked by his comrades, he had a ready sense of humor and was always prepared to defend the underdog.

At the age of 18 Cadwallon saw his father cut down during one of the hundreds of skirmishes with the pict scum. In a way Cadwallon had been prepared for this day for years, each time they ran into battle there had always been something about Gruffydd that seemed to Cadwallon as if he was looking for Death amongst the ranks of the picts.

In the same battle, most of the men Cadwallon rode with had been cut down alongside Gruffydd. Cadwallon stood and littered the ground with tattooed bodies until one of his men dragged him away from the unsurmountable odds, risking mortal injury during Cadwallon's battle-rage. It was this act alone that likely kept Cadwallon from joining his father that day.

After that battle, Cadwallon took his leave of what was left of his band of men and rode off in search of...something. During his travels he had learned of the Brehyrion Culann of the Brigantes being taken captive by the Romans. Cadwallon's people were related to the Brigantes tribe, so he traveled towards their lands in search of a possible purpose - he was quite accustomed to loneliness and wandering, this didn't mean he enjoyed it.

Traveling through the many small villages to attain supplies and find out any recent-ish news, Cadwallon picked up a rumour that Brehyrion Culann had returned to his people from Rome! Surely this was an impossibility, no one comes back from Rome! As he traveled through the various villages on his way to 'Brigantia' the rumour repeated itself more often, in some cases stating that the Brehyrion had come back with a Roman woman. Very Strange.

Cadwallon resolved to meet this Brehyrion and find out what kind of man he was, who could lead such a strong tribe, and return from Rome!