This is 5 out of 7 character profiles, that will be created for my story "Medieval Cohesion".

Full name: Zephyr Dreadwing
Specie: Fruit Bat
Age: 23 years old
Gender: Male
Class: Warrior
2nd Class: Guardian
Weapon: Spear
Armor: Tribal clothes

Strength ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙
Defense ◙ ◙
Dexterity ◙ ◙ ◙
Endurance ◙ ◙ ◙ ◙
Agility ◙ ◙ ◙
Magical ◙

- Abilities -

Impale ~ By utilizing his formidable strength, Zephyr is capable of penetrating all defenses of a man-sized enemy, bringing certain death with a single thrust. Taking time to perform, this attack is best used in small fights, where the battlefield isn't too crowded. Impaling a foe requires a large and durable spear, as any ordinary spear would break.

Spear Throw ~ Every fighter who desires to excel in combat, should always have some type of ranged attack prepared. If the need arises, Zephyr can throw his mighty spear over great distances, to deliver a deadly blow from far away. It's especially useful against flying opponents. He'll be forced to fight unarmed, until his spear has been successfully retrieved, from whichever opponent he targeted.

Guard ~ A true warrior is not only measured by his ability to destroy enemy units, but also to defend his own allies. Once he has gotten more in touch with his ancient instincts, Zephyr will be able to sense danger before it strikes, even when it's directed towards an ally. Being able to predict incoming attacks, Zephyr can sometimes guard a friend in peril, to block the attack or absorb the blow with his own body. This ability requires the promotion to guardian.

Sonar Waves ~ With a swift slash from his mighty wings, Zephyr can release a powerful sonar wave, that can destroy weaker undead units or temporarily stun a living enemy. This attack is only available, during situations where he is unarmed, as the motions cannot be performed while wielding a weapon. The waves have a short radius of effect, but can give Zephyr an advantage in tight situations.

Flight ~ Being the only winged member of the fellowship, Zephyr is gifted with the ability to fly, although only over short distances during the beginning of their journey. Once having advanced from being a simple warrior, he will learn to remain airborne, bringing death to his enemies from above. If his wings are damaged too severely, it may seize his opportunity to fly. This ability requires the promotion to guardian.

Spear Mastery ~ Having been raised by the tribe of Ranakhan, the young fruitbat has been forced to become a hunter, earning his stay by bringing food to his people. The many years of hunting, has improved his efficiency in combat, when equipped with a sharp spear. Due to his impressive strength, a humongous spear was designed, that only he can wield. With this highly superior weapon, Zephyr can pierce flesh and crush bones, with mighty thrusts that only few can endure.

Revenge ~ With his improved reflexes and evasion, Zephyr can occasionally dodge an incoming attack, and immediately release a devastating retaliation while the enemy's guard is down. The counter attack will inevitably cause a significant amount of damage, often leading to certain death. During intense battles, performing too many retaliations in a row, will drain Zephyr's energy and lower his defense rates. This ability requires the promotion to guardian.

- Background -

During the ancient days of history, taking place in the first stages of the Middle Ages, the clans of fruitbats used to co-exist with the tribes of Niévahna. Despite that the bats have always preferred to make their homes in caves and treetops, many of them had moved into the camps, to live in unity with the peaceful tribals. The harmony between the clans and tribes persisted, until the fated day came, where the dreadful Necropolis threatened the forest of Niévahna for the first time. The dark empire of Lord Zervas had grown and expanded considerably, and a great war was approaching. His legions of undead had yet to discover the hidden tribes of Niévahna, but this war would inevitably become so extensive, that even they could’ve been forced to prepare for battle. The great council of elders were gathered, to discuss how the tribes should respond to this issue. Among the elders, were four members from the clans of fruitbats, that were invited to take part in the meeting. Every elder who met up for the meeting, represented the opinions spoken by the particular tribes from which they came. Few tribes showed interest in challenging the forces of death, as they suspected that the lich king was only hostile, towards the outsiders clad in metal plates. Most of the tribes agreed, that the best choice would be to remain hidden, and only prepare for war if the outsiders were defeated. But once the elders from the clans of fruitbats spoke, the entire council was left silenced, as they brought a despicable suggestion, that lead to their ties of alliance being destroyed.

All four elders from the Mokadiém clans, agreed that submission was the most convenient option at hand. If the legions of undead were to discover their sacred forest, the clans of fruitbats would stand ready to join forces with the dark empire of Lord Zervas, to ensure their own survival. They even suggested, that the proud tribes of Niévahna should consider doing the same, as they didn’t stand a chance against the restless armies of undead. A great quarrel took place inside their tent, which ignited a flame of rage, that eventually caused commotion in the entire camp. Friendships were cleaved by sharp words of anger, people became rowdy, and the chaos persisted for the rest of the afternoon. Even if being greatly outnumbered, the sacred tribes of Niévahna would never even consider joining the forces of death, and it was forbidden to contemplate such dark decisions. No one had ever dared to suggest something this outrageous before, and as a result, the clans of Mokadiém were exiled into the mountains. Every single fruitbat was chased out of the forest, and if anyone refused to leave voluntarily, their lives would be instantly forfeit. Ever since that day, the clans of Mokadiém have dwelled in the mountains surrounding the forest of Niévahna, forced to live in the dark caves and tunnels. The elders that took part in the meeting are long dead, but even after several generations, the banishment still remains. Tales about the exiled clans became more dramatic as time passed by, and every time the story was told, it strayed even more from the truth. During more modern times, the twisted story had lead people to fear the clans dwelling in the mountains, as they were now considered enemies of the living. The sight of a fruitbat would strike fear in the heart of every man, as they were believed to be loyal servants, of the notorious Lord Zervas.

Almost a century later, after the banishment took place, something unexpected happened that left the tribes in turmoil. A boy by the age of nine, belonging to the clans of Mokadiém, had been separated from his parents. The young fruitbat had been exploring the rocky outdoors, leaving the dark caverns without permission. Once he moved too close to the edge, a careless footstep caused the ground to collapse underneath him, and he fell halfway down the cliff. His small wings softened the fall, preventing him from being seriously injured. The boy was bruised from the fall, and left with tears in his eyes. Unfortunately, his wings were still too small to handle flight, and the rocky wall was too moist to climb. He called for help, but received no reply. In the end, it became clear to him that the only option available, was to climb further down and enter the forest of Niévahna. But his parents had warned him against ever entering that sacred place. It was said to be a forbidden area for the clans of Mokadiém, and the boy would never have trespassed into the forest on purpose. But there was no turning back now. He hoped that his black fur, would make it easier to remain hidden in the shadows of the woods.

A couple of days went by, and the boy was starving. He had been feeding on berries and wild beetles, but that wasn't nearly enough to keep him nourished. His body was weakening, and he had yet to encounter another person within the woods. But before he succumbed to his own hunger, he was discovered by a group of tribal hunters, who were quite surprised to find a fruitbat in these woods. They were kind enough to offer him a dead rabbit, that had recently been caught, and the boy accepted the meal gratefully. Despite of the inevitable complications, they decided to bring the boy with them home, to the tribe of Ranakhan. And just as expected, the young fruitbat wasn't exactly greeted by hospitality. His presence drew a lot of attention, and within a short time, the people approached and gathered around him. Most of the men were armed with spears or bows, and he certainly didn't like the hostile look in their eyes. The hunters attempted to explain the situation, but within a few minutes, a quarrel begun about the boy's fate. Many wanted to see him punished, for breaking the ancient law of banishment. But there were a few that stood up for the boy, especially the women within the camp, since they claimed it would be cruel to hurt a child like that. The argument bounced back and forth, until something unexpected happened. A young wolf pushed his way through the crowd, seemingly only a few years older than the fruitbat. Deceived by the wolf's long hair, and his body coated with brightly pink fur, the boy thought it was a young girl. But despite the highly feminine appearance, it turned out to be a male nonetheless. When this cub stepped into the open, everyone was suddenly silenced, and the argument was temporarily paused. They all stared at the pink canine.

The poor boy was shaken, and certainly didn't enjoy to be at the mercy of these rowdy tribals. But during the brief moment of silence, the pink cub approached the boy, until he was standing right in front of him. He gazed deeply into the boy's eyes, while squinting his own, as if the rays of sunlight bothered him. It felt like he stared directly into his soul. Then his sight scrolled down to the boy's feet, before returning to his face, making it clear that he was being examined. Then the most unthinkable happened. The pink cub turned around to face the crowd, and requested politely, that the fruitbat should be released and go unpunished. He even wanted the boy to stay in the camp, and be treated as one of their own. Judged by the expressions on their faces, people were not particularly excited about this request. But it was clear to see, that this cub's words had great influence on the final decision. Despite of the argument earlier, they all obeyed this mysterious wolf, and offered the boy a safe home with the tribe of Ranakhan. The boy was reluctant to accept this offer, as he really wanted to go home. But for some reason, he was overwhelmed by a strong desire, to learn more about this wolf that probably saved his life. And that opportunity would be lost forever, if he declined the offer.

The young fruitbat decided to stay with the tribe of Ranakhan, but despite having agreed with letting him hang around, no one offered him a home. He became a loner, spending every night in the tall treetops, sleeping upside down above their camp. But he didn't really mind. Because as time passed by, a strong and unique type of friendship blossomed, between him and the only person he wanted to know - the pink wolf, that protected him against the tribe's rage. He didn't even need to ask for his name, because the pink cub was apparently a very common topic, within this tribal camp. Everyone spoke about him. His name was apparently Sinqularis Lupus. And by eavesdropping to the gossip passing around, it didn't take long for the young fruitbat, to figure out why this cub was so popular. According to the rumors, Sinqularis was a sacred person chosen by Gaia, and he had been witnessed to wield ancient spiritual magic. He was clearly destined to grow up, and become the next shaman and spiritual leader, to the tribes of Ranakhan. But regardless of his divine background, the young fruitbat sensed something else in this pink canine, that awakened an ancient instinct to protect. By this time, people thought that the Mokadiéms had completely abandoned all sense of honor, and submitted themselves to the eternal darkness. But Sinqularis had touched this young fruitbat in a way, which brought him in touch with the courage and heroism, that once made his clans reputable. He had never met a person so compassionate, empathetic, soft and enchanting. Once their bond of friendship evolved, the pink wolf even made glorious appearances in his dreams at night. This convinced him that it was a stroke of destiny, that lead their paths to be intertwined. So the fruitbat made an oath, that he dedicated his whole life to keep.

He swore to watch over Sinqularis like a guardian, keeping him protected to the end of time, and never stray from his side. The pink canine saved his life, for reasons that he didn't find necessary to understand. He alone stood up for the young fruitbat, despite of the dark rumors connected with his race, when everyone else was ready to have him executed. Such acts of kindness should not go unrewarded. His strong sense of valor and loyalty, compelled him to return the favor. Staying close to Sinqularis, being his one and only true friend within the tribe of Ranakhan, the fruitbat grew older and matured along with the pink wolf. But the fruitbats upbringing took a turn, that not even the elders had foreseen. Through intense training, his muscles grew significantly stronger, turning him into a solid warrior that few would challenge. He became a formidable hunter with the spear, respected for his ability to make a prey out of powerful animals, such as bears and elks. Defeating such deadly creatures with his self-taught techniques, turned him into a sturdy fighter, with every wound suffered leaving him less sensitive to pain and agony. Despite of his valiant heart and sense of honor, which was only exposed to those he deemed worthy, most people were affected by his intimidating exterior. His physical appearance invoked fear among people around him. But by the age of 19, he became acknowledged as the most powerful warrior within the tribe of Ranakhan, and earned the rank as their champion. His Mokadiém name has been long forgotten - but within the tribe of Ranakhan, he became known as Zephyr Dreadwing, the loyal guardian of their sacred shaman. Despite of his heroic intentions, the tribals will never forget that he carries Mokadiém blood in his veins. Is there really no way for his clan, to restore it’s lost honor and dignity?