Sir Alexander Thurgood

Spells* : Detect Undead*, Protection from Evil*

* Normally prepared

Skills : Concentration +6, Initimidate +5, Heal +3, Knowledge (Religion) +1, Knowledge(Monster Lore, undead) +3, Sense Motive +3, Wilderness Lore +3

Feats : Cleave, Courage*, Endurance, Power Attack, Weapon Focus (long sword)

* Feat from Ravenloft Third Edition

Languages:Common (Mordentish)

Equipment: long sword + 2, half plate armor, small wooden shield, holy symbol of Kelemvor, small knife, steel mirror, back pack, set of clothes, belt pouch (24 gp), 1/4 lb of garlic, 2 vials of holy water, cold iron mace, 1/2 lb of salt, 2 sheets of parchment, 1 lb of wax, quill, 1 bottle of ink

Imposing and verile, Thurgood stands at least 6'4" and 245 lbs.
His body is mostly muscle and tone under the overlapping plates of his scarred and black enameled armor that seems to bear infinate scrapes and marks like trophies where pain has marred this man throughout his life. Some of the scars have markings pure white and others still are blacker in pitch than the armor already is.
Something unnatural has clawed into this armor and more than likely at some time the man under it suffered the same fate.
His pale grey eyes however betray under layers of painful wounds and diligent combat that their is something infinately more painful about this man's past.
His dusty blonde hair hangs freely to his shoulders before he reaches up to slip on his heavy helmet cut in the representation of a skull. To form a face gaurd of sorts two massive tusk like fangs run at the edges of the helmet's "jaw" down to it's wearers chin. His face seems like a worked peice of stone, showing no hope of any emotion, covered with a smithering of a five o'clock shadow.
At his side he wears a black wrapped and red bladed long sword at his side and a medium sized black shield on his other arm that has a symbol of a bone arm holding up a pair of scales colored red. Covered mostly by the shield is a black mace hanging at his side that seems to be so simply made it almost doubles as a club.

Lord Alexander, as he was called by those he left behind for the church and its teachings, has been a very distant and gruff man since his wife and child were lost in that horrible disaster near his home in Tethyr, twenty or so miles from the border of Amn. According to the lord himself, in his only account of the situation, a pack of ghouls rose up out a nearby graveyard and layed seige to his carriage. His wife and child were consumed before the creatures could be beaten back. After losing so much Thurgood walked home through a mounting snow covered in blood all over his body. He still bears several vicous scars on his body where he was paralyzed and forced to watch the acts against his family. After wandering into a wide field of blanketed snow he fell to his knees and began to cry himself to death.
At that time he was visited by the visage of Kelemvor, the lord of the dead and was given the quest of bringing Kelemvor's children home. The coolness of the grave seethed through his muscles and covered his scars and he could only think of hunting the undead... destroying them all for the glory of Kelemvor.
Years of violent combat and leading troops hardened the once happy lord into a vicous warrior against the hordes of undead that seethed across Faerun.
As he traveled from Luskan to the Ten Towns one spring, he encountered a hobbling man in black robes, who told the paladin in a rather raspy voice and a point of his finger that the lord of the grave sought him in the spine of the world. A feeling of understanding and duty rolled across the paladin and he turned towards the mountains with a brisk step, leaving his adventuring party behind and seeking his lord. Into the mountains he found a cave filled with the dead bodies of several giants rotting in the new spring thaw. As he stepped across the bodies he saw the mouths of the creatures twist and move and heard whispers throughout the cavern saying that the sword that would bring him vengeance rested somewhere in the demiplane of dread. As he stepped over the last body the corpse reached up with a thick rotting arm and grasped his leg... Suddenly the back of the cave rushed forward like black and grey smoke and enveloped him. He rushed along through dark and swirling mists surrounded by screams of death and torture until he came down splashing into a puddle of muddy water.

Thurgood only recently arrived in Ravenloft, and is only just getting his bearings. The fact that he seems distant to his god strengthens his belief that the object of his quest is close, and the recent undead attacks seem to confirm this.

The warrior will relate little or nothing about his person and does not like speaking much, finding solace in his prayers and the diligence of his armament grooming. He does have some kind of obsession that he does not speak of and it seems to tear him up inside.
His unfamiliarity with the lands around him have made him aware that he is dependent on other people, and he is slowly opening up, but still ever wary.

Thurgood prefers to wade into battle using his long sword. While he has the ability to turn, he doesn't do this frequently, as he prefers to slay the creatures with his own hands.

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