The Last Knight of Zephyr
Clerdoen Tomps, the Last Knight of Zephyr, is a hero in Westmarch. She held the line against the oncoming hordes of orcs, goblins and worse, allowing the final battle for Westmarch to end in what passed for a victory. The goblinoid armies dispersed across the continent soon after, never to amass in a single army again.
Often depicted in silver-steel full plate armor, with red accents, Cleroden is revered as the savior of Zephyr, the city that became known as Westmarch. Though not a goddess, the citizens of Westmarch point to her as their spiritual guide. Without her, Zephyr would likely have fallen, and Westmarch would never have existed.
In the center of the main square of Westmarch there is a statue to Cleroden. Citizens walk by and nod, paying their respects, day after day.
The statue is wreathed in bleeding-heart vine, the symbolic flower of Cleroden Tomps. Admirers of Cleroden will wear the flower and allow the vines to adorn the fronts of their shops or houses.
Cleroden was born into a family of weapons merchants. She learned to fight not in the army itself, but just by being around her family’s best customers. Her older brother went to expand the family business in Anatolia. Eventually, he too became a seller of rhodium steel. By the time he, and the rest of the family, realized the secret of the rhodium steel, it was too late.
When war came to Zephyr, brought by the corrupted citizens of Anatolia, Cleroden joined the fight. She enlisted as a soldier in the army. Given a longsword, she joined the anonymous ranks of soldiers on whom the city’s future depended.
Her skill became apparent as she worked her way up to become a captain in charge of a company of soldiers. Her warriors trusted her instincts and fought hard for her. As the hordes of monstrosities bore down on Zephyr, it became clear that Cleroden’s company would be the linchpin in the line – if they collapsed, the horde would break through and descend upon the city.
The final battle raged as the horde repeatedly attempted to break the army, but over and over, Cleroden’s company held. After every failed assault, she would stand tall upon the piles of dead and rage at the retreating enemies.
The last assault came at night. The creatures could see better than Cleroden and most of her soldiers, but they held in the long dark against all manner of horrors. Goblins, Orcs, even giants and….worse; creatures from the depths of the corruption in Anatolia made a desperate attempt to break through.
As the sun rose the next morning, there was hardly anyone left alive, but the line had held. The horde had been stopped, finally. Cleroden stood in front and told them never to return to Zephyr, that their chance was gone. It was protected. In the face of evil and chaos, she never backed down.
She turned to her lieutenants and sent them to get water for the troops, telling them she would address them soon. She just needed to rest, and wanted to sit down for a few minutes.
When her officers returned, Cleroden lay dead. She had suffered wounds that no one had seen. The blood had mixed with the red cloth on her armor.
Cleroden was gone, but the army and the city remained.
And the city remains to this day, never having forgotten her.