Wilhelm Von Stadler (Other server)

Name: Wilhelm Von Stadler
Race: Human
Class: Paladin
Age: 35
Gender: Male
Appearance: Short steel colored hair and beard, 6'4", Very muscular, Excess scars (notably a vertical slash over his right eye), an ice blue left eye and a grey right one.

Reference image: https://i.imgur.com/evjD5Bl.jpg

Personality: Honorable, courageous, and righteous, Wilhelm believes above all else in what is good and just, and will never ally himself with evil. Aside from this, he is often a jovial and cheerful man, a determined gentleman, and has a firm grip on his emotions. He refuses to let his past haunt others on his behalf. He is honor bound to his word, and would die before going back on a promise or lying. In his eyes, there is no greater honor than to suffer for another's wellbeing; If ever there is a scenario in which he is interrogated by someone who intends to harm an ally of his, no amount of torture would break his oath to protect others, and he would readily die and carry his secrets to the grave to keep his friends safe.

    If you are truly honest and good to your very core, you can count Wilhelm as a friend, ally, and steadfast protector rooted in stone and steel until his dying breath takes him to his end.

Flaw: Wilhelm is far too trusting of others
Skills: Hand to hand grappling, Sword and shield fighting
Weaknesses: While he will readily suffer to keep another safe, threats against those he holds dear sting far worst than any blade. Furthermore, Wilhelm would never strike a woman unless left with no other option, and would regret it severely.

Weapons: Bastard Sword
Spells: Shield of Faith (A shimmering field of light appears around a chosen target, shielding them from damage), Lay on hands (Heals a target of choice, as long as I am able to touch them), Holy fire (Shoots golden flames from the palm of the hand, burning undead up to 15 feet away)
Armor: Heavy plated armor, Shield

Backstory: (Fair warning, I have no clue about anything relating to greek mythos. This was originally written for the norse mythos, so I just plugged the name Ares into it) Wilhelm was born in the slums of dead mans creak. Throughout his childhood, he was raised by a man and woman who showed him no love, and no understanding… Only abuse. The thirty five year old Wilhelm has more scars than he can count, but few know that many of them are not from glorious battles or tales of heroics; In fact, many these unsightly gashes and scars were given to him as a small, defenseless child.

    But something rather powerful had been planted within young Wilhelm, a gift that saved him from the darkest corners of the human mind, from the black and cold grasp of darkness. He had been given the worst life that life could have dealt him; He should have by all means been nothing more than a destructive young man filled with hate, a sociopath to the bitter end… But he wasn’t. Wilhelm was far beyond the odd one out in this less than desirable region, but within him was a spark that no drunkard father or hateful mother could extinguish. It was resolve. It was justice. It was a moral compass that no abusive parent, common thief, demon, or tyrannical overlord could waver. It was love, compassion, understanding. It was the ability to look past his own suffering, and instead into the world he lived in, the ability to put aside the idea of his own bitter hand in life for the sake of bolstering the hand of others.

    Years passed, and Wilhelm was seventeen. He had plans for his life, plans far from this accursed family. He ran away without a word to his family, and without a look behind him, he joined the church of Ares. He would never see his family again, instead devoting himself to the word of Ares, and to apply his unwavering resolve to the upholding of law and good.

    Now at age twenty one, his life had never looked brighter. A well known priest, he had traveled with a group of missionaries, seen the world, and most of all, he had the chance to inspire those who had done wrong, given them a chance to be redeemed. Something still felt off, however. As a priest, he felt no greater honor than to spread the word of Ares, but he wanted to do more. He wanted to fight for it, to be a defender, a steadfast guardian of holy light, rooted in stone and steel! One day, he was visiting a small village, not unlike his home. He was just on his way to the inn for the night, when he heard a sound that would haunt anyones nightmares. A screaming child. Not of a spoiled child being told no, but of one in distress. He hurried in the direction of the noise, until he spotted it; A child, bloodied and bruised. He knew not why, but he approached the attacker. What happened, happened in a flash of steel and reflexes. The man spotted him, and made an attempt to kill the child and escape the scene. He pulled out a steel dagger and thrusted it towards the child… And Wilhelm grabbed the blade. A steady stream of blood ran to a puddle under his hand, but his eyes were fixed on the attacker. He felt no pain, rather it felt as though experiences someone else pain, dissociated from his own body. With all his might, he wrenched the blade from the attackers hand, and with a clean strike, the attacker was unconscious.

This was the moment he knew. He was no priest. He had the passion of a warrior, and would fight as the hand of Ares. He would devote himself to the innocent and the weak, protecting those who are unable to protect themselves. He would fight to his dying breath in the name of Ares, as his paladin.