For Honor and Glory, Maxwell Kelter's Profile

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Maxwell Kelter, a strapping young man from the outskirts of Silverymoon. His father, a farmer by the name of Jerek, was not truly a man of faith, but he taught his son respect and honor towards others. His mother, a merchant's Daughter from Baldur's Gate who happened to meet Jerek one night during a journey on her Father's Caravan's towards SilveryMoon. She taught Maxwell, along with his grandfather and some other relatives at Baldur's Gate, how to read people's actions, and how to use a blade.

At the age of 17, Max met a traveling Paladin of Torm, by the name of Alexander Steele. He told Maxwell of what Torm represents defending the weak and defenseless when they cannot defend themselves, fighting off evil and the accursed undead, and healing those who are in need of healing. He told Maxwell stories of him fighting vampires, the forces of Evil, and other exciting tales of Heroism, instantly hooking Maxwell to become a Paladin.

With his parents consent, Alexander took Maxwell under his wing and trained the boy. Alexander became Maxwell's second father and mentor, and for three years the two trained furiously, both in Melee combat and in Ways of Torm's Faith. At the age of 21, Alexander took Max to a small Temple of Torm in Amn. A preist blessed him and deemed him a Paladin of Torm.

Maxwell has now arrived in Cormyr, sword in hand, he looks forward to being a strong beacon of Light in the growing darkness, and representing his Faith to it's fullest potential.

[max]

:*From the past Journal entries in a plain brown book*
I write this as i travel with my companion Alexander, a Paladin of Torm. He has taken me as a squire sometime ago, he told me that now that I'm past my 18th year, i can go with him.

We traveled to a small town, which we found out was inflicted with bandits. We found this out the hard way. When the leader of this Village told us about what they did, i saw a fury I've never seen in my Mentor. Alexander grabbed me and nearly dragged me to their encampment, which once we arrived there, he started to kill them with such fury, it scared me.

I will not go into detail of what these Bandits have done, but it was not pleasant to say the least. And with what little power that Lord Torm has blessed me with, i began to heal who i could, this power to heal with a single touch intrigues me, but it feels good, to help people.

After the Slaughter, Alexander healed those who where still alive, and we dragged the dead back to be buryed. After all this, i wept, i do not know why, but i wept. Alexander told me that i must come to terms with this, that i must not hesitate with anything, for if there is evil, it must be destroyed, before it destroys you. After we helped bury the dead, we left without a word, now we are in this Tavern, and i now await for the call of where to go, we seem to be heading off to Amn.

Maxwell Kelter,
Squire Paladin.

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*Written in an well worn Plain Brown book, with the symbol of Torm stamped upon the leather.*
I have not written this in past entries, but i believe that i should now. But i feel that my time in Cormyr has helped a few, yet helped none. I have met many friends, my closest being the old mage Frigand, and the Elf Entori, i consider them brothers. And i have met a cleric of Torm and a Paladin of Tyr, Solis and a man by the name of Fenrir, i have met them with open arms.

But what troubles me is the Lady Aria. She is the center of so much activity, like controlled chaos at it's best. She has captured the heart of many men it seems, i am included to be one. Hoot, a man of stout strength and will, is also encaptured by her alluring beauty, but it seems that i was to be the one that she wanted, but not after the mistake i made.

Isinhold was attacked by the evil Zhentarim, a deed that in the eyes of Torm was to be punished, and that i did. I gathered an small attack force and we took the fight to them, crippling them before a few of us met our Demise, their deaths to this day way heavily upon my soul. Torm saw fit that i lived, but he also saw fit that my punishment for striking out so was to be looked upon as a fool.

Aria, who i seemed would be by my side to the end, turned her back upon me, as well as the Dwarf Kyrion, calling me an idiot. My friend's Frigand and Entori have given me console, but it has been my daily pilgrimages to the Temple of the Defenders that has kept my Faith in check. I do not know about Aria any longer, i do not have the courage to truly speak with her, she would most likely keep me away and say that she does not truly wish me to be around. But yet, still to this day, i felt that what we did to the zhentarim was justice.

Maxwell Kelter,
Devoted Paladin in the Service of Torm

[max]

*A note written in what appears to be scribbled*
Son,
Its been awhile my boy, you havn't written, but i know that your duty to Torm has kept you from a quil and more towards the sword. I write to you not out of just checking up on you, but with grave news. Your grandfather, Joseph, has passed away the past Tenday.
I hope this letter has gotten to you in enough time, Me and your mother would be half way to Baldur's Gate by the time this letter reaches your hands and we were hoping that if you made haste, we could meet in the city.
If you cannot make it in time, i understand, but it would make me and your mother happy if you went to his grave site, your Uncle Thomas has given us where the burial site is, here is the directions
*a badly drawn map of where the Burial site is*
I hope to see you, my son, its been awhile, and your mother is sick with worry.
Your Father,
Jerek
(OOC: just on a small Hiatus for a few days, this is the IG excuse)