Oberon
Darrin Keats (a.k.a. Deadlocke)
Oberon doesn’t remember much… He’s pretty sure he was a human once… only because he visits his own grave once a year. Although the name on the grave reads “Darrin Keats”. He has no idea who that man was. All he knows now is hunting. A being with nothing but armor for a body, he hunts for sport even if it is difficult to find a challenge.
Darrin Keats was indeed a human once…. over 120 years ago. He was nothing more than a merchant by trade and father by night. Life treated him well. Lovely wife, two sons. He never wanted life to change, even though Istus, the goddess of fate and Destiny had other ideas.
One day, after passing though a back alley, Darrin was ambushed by some bandits looking to score an easy prize. While having him at arrow point, one of the bandits accidentally released his arrow… instantly killing him. After blacking out for a while, Darrin awoke in a location that wasn’t very familiar to him. He went to touch his chest to feel for the arrow, but it wasn’t there. In fact there was new clothing on him too. He noticed the breastplate of armor that was certainly not his. Leather, straps, spikes, and a helm? Who put this armor on him and why? As he goes to remove the helm, his vision moves with it. Immediately freaking out, he puts the helm back on.
“WHAT CRAZY MAGIC IS THIS?!?!” he exclaimed.
He rushed around the building he was in, which seemed to be an armory shop, to find a mirror. Standing in front of one in the dressing room, he gasped at what he saw. No head inside the armor looking back at him. He watched as this armor danced around, matching his every move. After a few moments of inspection, he see someone standing over his shoulder in the mirror.
“Who is that?!?” he exclaimed.
Looking over his shoulder he sees nothing.
“I saved you.” she lightly whispered to him. “I have need for you.”
“Will you at least tell me who you are..?” his breath begins to slow as he calms himself.
“I am Istus, goddess of Fate and destiny. You have bright things in your future.” she is clearly touching his arm, but he feels nothing. “One day you will achieve great things. Someone interfeared with my plans so I had to improvise.”
“I didn’t expect a god of fate could improvise.” he looks over his armor again. “Why couldn’t you just bring me back to life?”
“Sadly that is not in my realm of possibilities. But I have saved your soul and stored it in this armor.”
“And what am I supposed to do with this armor? Help this store sell product?”
“A greater fate awaits you. It will be revealed in time, so be patient.”
“Be patient?! I’m a walkig suit of armor? Do you expect me to go home to my family like this? Or am I supposed to just wait around like a decoration?!”
“That is of little consequence. You will be at the right place and right time when you are needed.”
“And if I’m not? or I don’t do what you want?”
“Then it’s because that was meant to be. Choice is merely an illusion.” As her words linger in his head, her image in the mirror fades.
Darrin quickly rushed off to see if his family knew yet of his fate. Once home, he saw a funeral procession leaving. He tried to run up to his family and say “I’m here! It’s me! I’m still alive.” But caused nothing but more grief and pain to them. After being escorted away by guards, Darrin had no idea what to do. Devastated, he wondered around for a while. Rumors quickly spread about a walking piece of armor. Bounties were put on his head. He was attacked a few times in the city. He escaped to the wilderness because he found that he doesn’t need to eat, sleep, drink, or do any of the things he had taken for granted. He still needed to fend for himself so he sneaked into the city to find a weapon smith. Stealing a few pieces of equipment, he now felt ready to start new. He moved to a new city, with a new name, Oberon, and joined a Hunters Guild where he could live in the wild, hunt creatures, and live alone. Away from those who would dare judge him.
Physical Description
General Physical Condition
His body is that of living armor. He looks like a full suit inhabited by someone, but is in fact completely empty.
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