Your Name ∙ You caught me, tis Lynn.
Contact Information ∙ See account profile, it’s got it all.
Time Zone ∙ Pacific Standard Time, GMT - 800


Character’s Name ∙ District Commander Brenden Agentia
Age ∙ Twenty-five
Gender ∙ Male
Residing ∙ Patten, Corus.
Character Class ∙ Dog
Occupation ∙ Lower City District Commander [typically Twilight Watch, but puts in extra hours whenever necessary]


Sexual Orientation ∙ Heterosexual. Brenden is slightly homophobic. While he would not put a person in danger because of their orientation, if he discovered such a person beneath him, he would most likely break off any friendship he had with them and take measures to remove them from his area, e.g. firing them or relocating them to another city.
Extent of Sight ∙ Brenden can sense, to some extent, a person’s intent. His Sight is not very specific. He cannot determine motives or methods, but would be able to tell by looking at a passerby if he was contemplating a crime, such as thievery or murder. This Sight is also very helpful in detecting lies and flattery.
Overall Personality ∙ Brenden is a very straightforward man. He says what he means. However, he is well aware of the nuances and politics around him, and knows when to hold his tongue. Most people see him as quiet, simply because he doesn’t confide in hardly anyone. He is a firm believer in honesty above all, and has very little patience for white lies or flattery. While he has been known to lie in the past in certain situations, the guilt usually nags at him for some time afterwards.

Brenden has a very conscious sense of honor and duty. He doesn’t give his word lightly, but when he does, he follows his promises through to the end. He’s extremely empathetic towards those he sees as weaker than himself, mostly women and children. When he was a Puppy, his Dogs both thought this to be his weakness, since he would go easier on such criminals, and sometimes even let them escape. What no one realized was that his Sight allowed him to determine whether the persons in question were really hard-bitten criminals or just scared, down-on-their luck innocents. Brenden has always kept his Sight to himself, as kind of a hidden weapon.

Although Brenden has a rather large heart, he cracks like a whip in the face of crime. He has a reputation in the underground for being one of the cruelest Dogs in the Lower City. He does advocate the death penalty and deportation, but only as a sort of warning to other criminals. On the whole, he does not kill simply to kill or harm simply to harm, he merely does what he thinks is necessary to reduce crime and make his point.

Brenden is, overall, quiet, cool, and collected. His men respect him without having to fear him. He can sometimes become so caught up in what he is doing as to become estranged from his family or friends, but for the most part he is warm and gracious towards people he likes. He has a mild sense of humor, often smiling, but seldom laughing. In romantic instances, he is very slow to move and withdrawn, for fear of frightening the object of his affection away.


Height ∙ Six feet even.
Weight ∙ 175 Pounds
Overall Appearance ∙ Brenden is well-built and muscular, typical for the dedicated members of his chosen profession. He is tall, but not exceptionally so. His hair is generally dark brown, but has highlights during the hotter months that shine blond in the sun. His hair falls to the middle of his neck. He keeps it well-trimmed, but sometimes lack of attention makes it look shaggy and unkempt. The faintest shadows of a beard grace his chin, not enough to really be considered anything in particular, just what he neglects to shave.

Brenden has light eyes that look different depending on the light; tinged blue, green, or grey. He has a straight, frank gaze that just shouts honor and truth. For some criminals this is unnerving, for some it is laughable. Still, when he is angry it is extremely noticeable. His eyebrows are slightly on the thicker side, and when he’s brooding he can sometimes look like the animal mascot of his trade. He has straight, white teeth, unusual in the Lower City but not quite so much in Patten.


Family ∙ Dunstan Agentia, Father. Dunstan spent his entire life as a Dog. For the entirety of Brenden’s life, he was Commander of Patten. Brenden inherited most of his morals and ambitions from his father. Dunstan was killed a few years ago while trying to introduce a new tactic in the northern farmlands against Scanran scavengers.
Rose Agentia, Mother. Rose was a kind woman, if not exactly pretty. She was Dunstan’s childhood friend before he joined the Dogs and became a Commander. With firmly grounded morales and a naturally supportive nature, she was, in Brenden’s eyes, the best mother anyone could have asked for. She died when Brenden was nine, from a winter illness.
Illaen Agentia, Step Mother. Dunstan remarried two years after Roslynd’s death. Illaen was considerably younger than he, but rather beautiful. Brenden suspected from the beginning, even at only eleven, that this was probably the primary reason for his father’s remarriage. Despite this, she had a good heart. While Brenden never did consider her his mother, or even close, he had no particular objection to her. After she was widowed he continued to visit and offer a helping hand where he could.
Calanthe Agentia, Half-Sister. Born a year after Dunstan and Illaen’s marriage, Cala is now eleven. Although she and Brenden have little blood relation, they are fond of each other. Brenden will often buy her presents when he comes to visit, and is rather protective of the budding beauty, although he seldom shows it.
Birthplace ∙ Patten District, Corus. The house has since been split in two, and one half sold, while his step-mother and half-sister occupy the other.
Background ∙ Brenden was born a happy child into a happy home. His father was well-known in Patten as the District Commander. Many said that, were it not for Commander Agentia, Patten would have been no different than the Lower City as far as safety was concerned. Brenden was immensely proud of his family, and wore others’ praise for them like a badge. It was his highest ambition in life to grow up just like his father, and to find a woman to marry who was just like his mother.

Brenden received his first glimpse of what life was really like at age nine, when illness took his mother’s life. Up until that point he had been relatively sheltered, and believed the world to be made entirely of sugar-coated good will. With his mother’s death, however, came change in more ways than one. He was no longer able to stay home with his mother during the day and night. For the most part his time was occupied by school, or his father was home, but on occasion his father would take him into the Kennel, for lack of anything else to do with him. It was there that he was exposed to crime for the first real time, besides as a distant enemy in his head. Brenden recognized immediately that these people were different than the ones he’d seen in his cheerful home. It was then that he started to recognize his Sight, although he kept it to himself for years.

Brenden grew up more in the two years after his mother’s death than he had in the nine years preceding it, and by the time his father met Illaen, he was quiet and slightly cynical. Upon seeing Illaen, and recognizing that her physical appearance went beyond that of his mother’s, he immediately assumed this to be his father’s only reason for choosing her. Still, being able to tell that Illaen was probably more innocent and good-willed than even he was, he could not find it in himself to dislike her. Of course, she could never even approach the high pedestal he had placed his mother on, but at least he could stand living with her. She was more like an older cousin than a mother, anyway. He held nothing against her; he was only slightly disappointed that his father could even stand her after having such a wonderful woman as his mother.

A year later, Illaen gave birth to a daughter who promised to be as beautiful as she was. Before this, Brenden had only recognized babies as screaming bundles of blankets in the marketplace. Being an older brother was an enlightening experience, and one that reversed much of his overly mature cynicism. Everyone in the family was delighted with the little girl’s arrival. She was a ray of sunshine in their lives once again, although admittedly Illaen was bubbly enough not to need one.

Brenden, at this time just reaching his thirteenth birthday, was already eagerly asking when he could begin training for the Provost’s Guard. His father, while reluctant to send him off so young, knew that saying no would only postpone the inevitable. So at thirteen, Brenden went off to school. He would return every night, eager to show off what he had learned that day. Slow lessons frustrated him; he was ready for action.

Having completed training, Brenden graduated to Puppyship. There was some concern about him working directly beneath his father, so Brenden was sent instead to two of Commander Agentia’s close friends in the not-far-off Lower City. In the crime-ridden lower district, Brenden’s carefully honed abilities flourished. He had a promotion waiting for him by the end of his first year, but his outlook had changed slightly. He was still as devoted as ever to fighting the scum his father had spent his entire life against, but there was a tone of hopelessness to doing so in the Lower City.

Brenden became a fully-fledged Dog, and then a Senior Guard. It was then, while Brenden was sixteen and his younger sister five, that his father, brimming with a new idea for the defense against Scanrans, decided to travel north. Both of the children bade their father farewell, and Brenden promised to take good care of the family while his father was away, despite the fact that he had recently found a place of his own and was planning on moving out upon his father’s return.

His father did not return. Eventually, long after his scheduled trip was supposed to be over, the three remaining family members received word that he had been killed during an unexpected raid.

Of course, Brenden was torn. Unlike his mother’s death, however, where he was allowed to be the baby of the family and cope with it however he pleased, he now found himself with a widow and a younger sister, relying on him. Both of the girls handled the death very poorly, but somehow the three of them managed to survive. Dunstan had left them enough to live on, but not quite as comfortably as they had in the past. Taking charge of their affairs, Brenden made the difficult decision to sell half of the house he’d been born into, retaining only what was necessary for his step-mother and sister to live in. After ensuring that they would really be alright on their own, he moved into his own small home. He only ever expressed his father’s grief there, in the quiet of his own mind. In public he was calm, all business, preparing his father’s funeral and burial.

The death did not have much affect on Brenden’s career; he never requested to transfer out of the Lower City, although he could have done so. At eighteen he was promoted to a Corporeal, at twenty-two District Sergeant. Brenden, remembering how his father had been respected as the one who kept the peace in Patten, wanted to be known as such in the Lower City. In a way, moving to any other district would mean failure. He would not be stabilizing a shady area; he would merely be continuing another man’s triumph. The fact that his father had done exactly that with Patten did not register with him.

His devotion to his task, his carefully practiced skill with his baton, and the Sight he never told anyone about allowed him to continue rising in favor with his higher-ups, and most of the men beneath him as well. At twenty-four, when the District Commander for the Lower City retired, young Brenden Agentia was promoted. He has been serving in that office for a year since.


It was just an ordinary day in the Lower City. The sun was high and hot. Infacts cried. Children clung to their mothers’ skirts, large, innocent eyes peering out from above dift-smudged cheeks. Men and women who were missing several of their teeth haggled over trivial price difference, laughable amounts in the upper districts, but differences that meant the world to these impoverished people. Raising the price of eggs by half a copper Noble could force one family here to go without breakfast.

The tall man pacing through the crowded street would not be on duty for another few hours, but for Commander Brenden Agentia, the term “off-duty” meant little. He was like a farmer with his crops, a shepard with his herd, a king and his court. He had made it his deepest goal to protect the innocents in the Lower City from the crime waves that were rampant there. To give them some semblance of stability. He wanted to occupy the same position here as his father had held in Patten; the respected protector. He could not achieve such a thing working only a few hours per day.

Brenden paused beside a rickety cart, cheap glittering trinkets covering its surface. Pretending to be interested in a beaded necklace, he scanned the street out of the corner of his eye. There were crowds of questionable and suspicious people, but since when was that anything new? The Lower City was composed almost entirely of unsavory folk. The one who caught his eye was a boy or no more than twelve or thirteen. Lurking in the shadows of a nearby doorway, he greedily eyed the fly-ridden fruit on a nearby table. Brenden sighed, put down the necklace, and quietly made a roundabout circle to the other side of the street. While the fruit-vendor was arguing over the quality of one large melon, the boy reached out and swatted an apple down off the table. Brenden caught his arm before he’d even had a chance to withdraw it.

“Put it down,” he muttered quietly, so that only the boy could hear him. The boy’s lip quivered hungrily, but his fingers released the apple. As soon as he had, Brenden pulled him back into the doorway, and the two were clouded in relative shade.

“You know, that’s thievery,” he chided softly. He wouldn’t punish the child; first, he was off-duty, and secondly, he knew that the boy really hadn’t had an evil intent.

“I was hungry,” complained the boy, looking wistfully once again at the food table.

Brenden sighed and released his hold on the child. “There’s a better way. Now scat.”