Wolverhampton, the 7th Wanderer, son of Blackpool, son of Ham, son of Ipswitch, son of Wigan, son of Bolton, son of Hotspur, son of Bromwich... called the Beggar King by the people of Blackburn Fief because he comes lurking a couple times a year, usually bearing gifts of supplies in the winter and avenging crimes against the peasantry during the summer. The peasantry may not take his claim as seriously as he does, but it is a rightful claim and he considers them his subjects and his responsibility. He is steadfast and pure in his intentions to regain his humble throne.
Wolverhampton was not raised in privilege. He isn’t a good reader or memorizer of facts, excepting his prodigious memory of the oral tradition of his clan. However, he is slow to anger and merciful. He would make a good king, but not a good administrator. He carries the Blessings of the Red Knight upon his shoulders and he considers it his duty to contribute his deeds to the roles of history and legend. Thus he often composes crudely rhymed epic poetry that he will attempt to get the Bard to record for him. He is not interested in her salacious tendencies as he will only fornicate in order to produce an heir and he has a scheme in his head to affect some sort of politically beneficial union at some point. Perhaps the daughter of some other landless lord. Perhaps Mathias is another such Rightful Lord of the Land. Perhaps Alec the Halberdier is as well.
The Red Knight was a hero who’s legend has become synonymous with the rebellion against the empire and the discontent of the peoples of Core. He happens to be the ancestor of Wolverhampton. Perhaps he communicates in dreams or waking visions. Symbols of the Red Knight are like the jesus fish in ancient Rome. An unlikely avatar, perhaps, but Wolverhamption the VII has great potential... and a fierce mustache.
Friends of Blackburn
Angus Og is a half-orc innkeeper known to Woverhampton. He is a former mercenary who built his country boardinghouse on the edge of the forest where he serves farmers, lumberjacks, foresters, bandits, rebels, elves, orcs, dwarves and even halflings, and any other as long as they are Sir Hector's men. The Elf Haven Inn is a favorite waystation for the landless knight when he visits his ancestral lands. The mead is intense and the wine is surprisingly good. It is sometimes said Angus Og was raised by elves before he took to the reaver's ways.
Mevrain the Herbalist has not been poorly treated by Sir Hector, which makes her mildly amused when Wolverhampton blunders into her cottage every winter carrying a freshly slain stag and a sack full of winter mugroot, but it is a nice meal, and the neighbors do appreciate it. Perhaps she forgets that she was once the niece of the long lost Earl of Pembroke, who's line has been official rent from the Roles of Nobility. Or perhaps she does not forget that, ever.
Old Gro lives in the forest, wizened and half-cracked.
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