Langdon was one of Barak's three companions on his quest to avenge his parents and find a place where he could live in peace. Langdon's primary role was support, both as a healer and an archer. He was trained in the ways of the mage, though technically not a mage because he flunked out of the tower. When he was nineteen he met Brian and joined his demon hunting special forces unit. It was during his time here that he got quite skilled at the healing arts, developing many new practices and advancing healing magic to a place it had never been before. Later, after the formation of Zealandia, Langdon opened up a school dedicated to teaching medicine, herbology, and magic based healing. A true legacy for a man that never graduated.
Langdon's life prior to meeting BarakEdit
Langdon was raised in northern Giza. His family, which consisted of his father; mother; and three older brothers (well, two at this point, the oldest had died in the war), lived off of the meat they hunted or trapped and the profits off of the furs they sold to the local village. It was for hunting purposes that his father taught him the bow.
When Langdon was nine years old his home was attacked by a demon that came down from the mountains. The demon trapped them in their own home and butchered Langdon’s mother and two brothers slowly before his eyes. The demon then toyed with his father, laughing as the hunter’s bones snapped easily in his hands. Langdon was sitting in a corner, trying to plug his ears to block out his father’s screams when a knife landed on the floor in front of him. He looked up and the demon told him that if he killed his father, he would let Langdon live. Langdon looked at his father. Two sets of panicked eyes met each other for a moment. Even through the agonizing pain that his father was in, Langdon knew that his father was deathly afraid of dying. However, so was Langdon. That was why he stabbed his own father in the heart.
The demon laughed again, then walked out of the house and into the forest. Langdon held his father’s head in his lap and cried, anguished at what he had done but even more happy to be alive. Then he felt ashamed for his happiness and cried, tears ran down his cheeks as he struggled to breathe through the sobs that wracked his body. He fell asleep like that.
When he woke up he started packing. Langdon made the two day trip by himself to the nearby village his father had always traded at. He sold the last of the cured furs they’d had and spent the next two months fending for himself. He was arrested for poaching, beaten for it, and then taken to a military orphanage. He was there until he was thirteen. During his time there, he managed to escape several times, only to be found, beaten, and taken back soon after. In between escape attempts though, wizards from Giza tower came through to test the children for talent in magic. Langdon failed the test, but only just barely. When the testing was over, very few children had been found that passed. Langdon saw an opportunity and begged the wizards to take him too. They agreed and he was taken to the tower.
Langdon continued to be a trouble maker here as well, getting into fights with other students, and on occasion some of his teachers. He had a foul mouth and few friends in the tower but he was a quick study; he easily mastered the basics and most of the intermediate skills. In the end though, he was kicked out of the tower for being too weak. He was technically skilled, but Langdon lacked the raw power one required to advance any further. Langdon didn’t see this as all bad. The tower had been shaping him into a weapon and that didn’t particularly suit him. Life on a battlefield was sure to kill him, and that was something Langdon really wanted to avoid.
Since he had spent his conscription years in a military orphanage and then a wizards’ tower, Langdon was technically a free man. He was quite proud of himself for having jumped through the hoops just right, if only by luck, to completely avoid actual military service. He decided to return home to start life over as a trapper and a hunter. When he got home he discovered that somewhere in the nine years that he’d been gone, the government had taken back his family’s land leaving him with no rightful claim to it.
That night, in the village his father had always traded at, Langdon found the bar and tried to douse the flames of his anger with booze. It didn’t work. Instead he found a group of soldiers in the bar, blamed them for his problems, then started a fight with the whole lot of them.
Although it started as a fistfight, one of the soldiers found the inebriated Langdon to be doing infuriatingly well. This soldier pulled a knife and tried the gut the scrawny hunter’s son. Langdon twisted at the last moment and received only a nasty slash on the ribs. He retaliated by sticking a hand out and lighting the soldier’s hair on fire. This brought the fight to an abrupt halt. The soldier was screaming and in trying to put out the fire on his head only succeeded in burning his hands. Another one of the soldiers grabbed a flagon of mead and dumped it on his head. With the fire out, all of the soldiers drew their weapons and encircled Langdon. It’s not important, but it will be noted that everyone else had left the bar at this point. The only soldier left sitting down ordered his men not to kill the skinny drunken idiot just yet, he described Langdon in almost exactly this fashion as well. This final soldier stood up and introduced himself as Brian, he then asked Langdon where he had been trained. Langdon’s response was something along the lines of Brian’s mother’s bedchamber. Brian let that one slide, gave him some praise, and offered him a job in his unit. The things that Langdon said to that caused Brian to knock him to the ground and give him a firm boot stomping that Langdon never quite remembered. Langdon woke up the next afternoon in the stables, covered in cuts, bruises, horseshit, and hay. Due to his hangover, whatever was covering him didn’t seem like a huge bother so he went back to sleep for a few hours. The next time he woke up, the sun was lower in the sky, but it was not yet dark. Langdon made his way to the creek the village was built by, and waded in to clean/sober himself up. He then went back to the bar to see if his travel bag was still there with all of his things in it. Just before he got there, Langdon found Brian walking into town, one of his soldiers was being carried over his soldier, while another used him as a crutch. All three of them were covered head to toe in blood and mud. Langdon followed them inside the bar when he heard the barkeep respond to a question he’d missed. The bartender was telling Brian that they had no doctor or healer to tend to his men, that there was nothing they could do. For no particular reason, Langdon walked over to the bloodier, unconscious man who was laying on the floor. Brian looked over and saw the man he’d beaten the living shit out of the night before and snarled an inquiry about what Langdon thought he was doing. Langdon waved him away and knelt by the dying soldier’s head, cupped it in his hands, then used what little power he had to stabilize the man, close his larger wounds, and get the broken bones in his body partially knit together. Langdon had to stop then, perspiration covered his entire body from the exertion. He apologized for not being able to do more, then laid on the floor and passed out.
This time when Langdon woke up, it was in a bed, and with the three soldiers sitting in the room with him. Brian asked Langdon a few questions about Langdon’s background and received some vague, but accurate answers. Brian asked Langdon again to join his unit. This time Langdon actually asked what it was that this particular unit did. Brian told him that it was a special team dedicated to eradicating demons that had made their over from the West. Langdon then asked what happened to the other handful of soldiers that he’d been punching in the head the night before. Upon hearing that they’d all been slaughtered except for the two Brian had managed to drag back alive Langdon refused profusely. Brian debated with Langdon a bit more, focusing on his current position of having pretty much no money and no means of acquiring new funds. Eventually he convinced Langdon to join in the capacity of a healer. At this point in time, Langdon’s skills in healing were shaky at best, but it wasn’t long until he’d had more practice bringing Brian and his soldiers, not to mention himself on more than one occasion, back from the brink of death than most esteemed wizards. Not even being as powerful as a full fledged mage, Langdon had to get really creative with his healing practices and pioneered many techniques that worked with very little power but worked to stabilize and at least keep injured soldiers alive. It was during this time that he took up the bow again, killing demons from a distance saved him a lot of work later trying to put ruined soldiers back together.
Langdon stayed with Brian’s unit for nearly five years until he eventually got sick of the death and almost dying himself. During that time, Brian and Langdon had been the only constants in the unit. No matter how many times he healed the soldiers that were under Brian’s command, they eventually always managed to get themselves killed. Langdon had lost count of the battles he’d walked away from with only Brian at his side. He couldn’t take it anymore and just walked out on Brian one day.
Langdon wandered for a while until he found the Alkorian city of Kenn. Kenn was known for its criminals and general shadiness. Langdon fit in better than he expected. A bar fight somehow turned into a duel to the death in an underground tournament in Kenn. He won easily. The rules of the tournament stipulated that opponents must be unarmed and unarmoured. Nothing barred Langdon from using his magical abilities. Though smaller than many of the opponents that he ended up fighting in this tournament, Langdon won, he won and just kept winning. After a while he was crowned the champion of the tournament and he made his living by betting on himself for each fight. He did this for two years until Brian finally came calling once again, this time with a young man with him, barely more than a boy actually. Upon seeing that such a young man was going to get himself killed fighting alongside Brian, Langdon got angry. Brian begged for Langdon’s help to potentially save the lives of a few hundred townsfolk. Langdon was so angry at Brian that he simply refused, just spouted off in anger whatever came to mind. The boy that was with Brian looked at Langdon in disgust and called him a coward. Langdon came across the table at him, they scuffled for a moment, the boy shocked Langdon a little when the champ realized he couldn’t land a single hit on this boy. He was a large boy certainly, wide shoulders and a head taller than he himself was, but Langdon had easily beaten far larger. The bartender yelled at Langdon that if he wanted to fight, to do it in the arena. Langdon thought this was a splendid idea. He would break the kid’s legs so he’d have to be sent home, though crippling, it would keep the boy alive. The boy said that if he won, Langdon would have to help them save the town. Langdon waved him away and walked to the stairs that led to the arena floor.
The rest, as they say, is history.