Chaunti5

Chaunticleer lvl 5 Bio

Chaunticleer Sexton was born to a quiet life in the forest village of Sidewing. It was named so far the shape of the woodlands being like a flared out wing, the land's geography giving the treetops textures via height. Growing up was most mundane.. Chaunticleer was the oldest of five, though only he and his brother Diel, the youngest, survived. Their siblings and parents had been killed, making them both wards of the foundling village. Life was harsh in that each was expected to have a role to fill, to be of use and contribute to the community. Chaunticleer helped by hunting and guarding. His brother Diel was seen as a oaf, a lazybones that played fiddle and crowed all day and night, though his songs seemed to entertain others.. and sometimes Chaunticleer, though he wouldn't admit it. Still, the redwing paid his brother's way at times by over-hunting quota and having it known his brother 'claimed' the difference. They were bound by blood after all. The two bickered often, usually ending with Chaunticleer telling Diel to "grow up" and Diel in turn telling him to "grow down" as the two lived lives as polar opposites.. Chaunticleer was the quiet one who put his life on the line, who hunted and was often seen as worth.

It happened one day, a split pilgrimage had Chaunticleer off on a mission, his brother back at the village. Trade had just been opened, and Chaunticleer was with the party who was escorting their goods to a meeting point, a way-station. They were jumped, and the last thing Chaunticleer remembered seeing was the rise of smoke and flame from the village afar...

He woke up from a splashed bucket of cold water, in a marketplace in a desert land, his hands bound and form on his knees. He was only 15yrs old.. and now his little brother of 10yrs was gone, his home was gone.. and he was being bid on. Life twisted then, Chaunticleer going from a boy with a bow to suddenly forced to fight with flesh and wooden blades and shields, made to serve gladiators and tend to their wounds, as well as drag out the dead bodies of the fallen and bury them. He got lucky that a seasoned gladiator named Maverick took him under wing, a fellow torian of white feathers. Chaunticleer sparred with Maverick, tended to his every need of food and drink, tossed him new weapons as needed, and tended his wounds. It was a trying day when Chaunticleer turned 18, for he had been brought in with a group of like-aged males, each had been taken under wing, for the most part.. and on that day, they faced their first day in the arena proper. Only.. they went up against the mentors. Shock was evident on Chaunticleer's face when Maverick came out, to the point that he refused to pick up his sword and face him. That was how Chaunticleer became half-blinded, blade striking down across left eye, a scar that was never to be healed. They fought and of course Maverick won... so Maverick took out an old leather collar and used his blade to crudely engrave the first three letters of Chaunticleer's last name, 'Sex' for Sexton.. and he put that collar on the young man.

"Your life is mine. I could have killed you. I spared you. Now you belong to me. You exist and live because of me. Do not forget it. You may see this collar as me taking your life away, especially in the coming years.. but one day.. you'll understand."

Things became much harder for the young gladiator-in-training. At that point, he watched as half of those who had been bought when he had, were dragged out, killed in the most bloody, miserable of ways...