Aegon — The Wild Hunt
In the forests beyond Baldur’s Gate, there are stories told in frightened whispers.
Stories of a silent force moving through the trees.
Of predators fleeing before something even more dangerous.
Of evil vanishing overnight, leaving behind only claw marks, black feathers, and blood-soaked earth.
Those stories speak of Edward.
Once, he commanded one of Baldur’s Gate’s most elite covert forces — trackers, scouts, hunters, and infiltrators trained to operate where armies could not. Aegon was the blade hidden behind the kingdom’s smile, the man sent when enemies needed to disappear quietly and completely.
War made him legendary.
Loss made him relentless.
After watching too many comrades die to corruption, monsters, and men protected by power, Aegon abandoned the comfort of command and became something older, harsher, and far more feared.
Now people call him the Wild Hunt.
Aegon is both ranger and priest — a devoted servant of Corellon Larethian, the elven god of artistry, war, and freedom. Yet his faith is not gentle. To Edward, Corellon’s teachings are not merely about beauty, but about protecting the future from those who would corrupt it.
He is heroic, but deeply pragmatic. He understands that evil rarely dies cleanly. Sometimes it must be tracked. Cornered. Studied.
And sometimes it must be allowed to run—
so it reveals where the rest are hiding.
Then the Hunt begins.
As a Beastmaster Ranger, Edward never fights alone. Beside him walks a terrifying companion bond that shifts depending on the battlefield:
A Dire Raven, his most common companion, watching from above like an omen of death.
A bear that crashes through enemy lines like a living siege engine.
A wild boar that breaks formations apart.
A wolf spider that turns darkness into terror.
A wolf that hunts fleeing prey without mercy.
These beasts are not pets.
They are extensions of Aegon’s will.
Combined with the martial aggression granted by his War Domain Cleric training, Edward becomes overwhelming in close combat. Unlike many rangers who rely on distance, he dominates the frontline with polearms—glaives, halberds, pikes, quarterstaves, and spears moving through his hands with impossible speed.
His fighting style is terrifyingly efficient.
Enemies struggle to even approach him. His weapon controls space with sweeping precision while his beast companion punishes every mistake. Together, they fight like a coordinated hunting pack, trapping enemies in a relentless cycle of pressure and punishment.
Aegon does not roar in battle.
He watches.
Calculates.
Waits for the exact moment fear begins to set in.
Then he strikes.
To the innocent, the Wild Hunt is salvation arriving from the darkness. To the wicked, it is inevitability. A force that tracks relentlessly across forests, cities, and battlefields alike.
There is no bargaining with it.
No hiding from it.
No outrunning it.
Because Aegon does not merely hunt evil.
He teaches it what fear feels like.
Aegon — The Wild Hunt.
