Mayor Gunther Kueglemann

A scent of sulphur and brimstone defiled the otherwise fresh air of the Peregon isles. In the horizon, the white spires of a walled city were engulfed in hellfire. In perfect view from a countryside hill.   With one hand clutching a knife, Kueglemann sat on a rock with his legs crossed. Calmly peeling the skin from a potato, as he inhaled the burnt air. A grim smile cracking from narrow lips, as he dropped the potato into a basket.   “It seems that once more, the winds of change are blowing.”

    When one speaks with Gunther, it is hard to believe that he is not of royal blood. His words are a mix of simple and direct, contrasted by eloquent and riddling. His voice is dry and clear, with an accent that sounds ancient - oftentimes using outdated words that no ordinary citizen or noble would still utter.   Sometimes, Kueglemann is known to say completely random things that are impossible or paradoxical. A consequence of his mind being affected by several rebirths and his soul scarred.  

“When I look around me and see the world for what it is, I spot pawns leading kings and fields growing pain like crops. To what ends I ask, but I nary received answers that were satisfactory.   The only truth here is that when the fields go dry and the people cease to work - everything falls apart like a chain without an anchor. When that happens, those in power can not stop their ship from drifting into the cliffs. A collision of fate and change.”

    Kueglemann has the gray yet refined look of an older gentleman. His short hair is well kept and combed to the side, his eyebrows are thick and his face is clean shaved - apart from his side-whiskers.   While Gunther has a large gut on him and his face clearly shows him being a little overweight, he is deceptively muscular beneath the hull. With large hands and broad fingers, strong knees and wide feet. Standing at 5.9 feet tall.   For his clothing, Gunther wears an old dark gray and white doublet that is lavishly decorated with gold filigree. With silken shoulderpads stitched into the shirt, that cover half of one third of his upper arms in golden epaulettes. He also wears a pure white tunica underneath with laced wristcuffs around his hands.   His pants are simplistic black satin pantaloons held together by threads. His boots are carved out of oak and clad in dark leather that is shined to a point that one can see distorted reflections in the skin. The heels are also medium-high and clicking pleasantly for each step he takes.   For a man that dresses to impress, Gunther Kueglemann has a neutral and stern gait. One filled not with grace but firm intent and focus. His arms are always held by his sides as he speaks and he lacks any natural form of body language. Instead, when he wants something, he is always seen performing a mundane task as he speaks. Eating, attending his looks or polishing his silver and onyx rings.   Yet, the most prominent feature of Kueglemann is not his physical appearance or fashion style. It is his dark blue eyes with crimson inside the inner iris. When one looks into Gunther’s eyes, there is something ancient and wrong in them. Something wrong that people describe as soothing, disarming and deeply empathic. A warped kindness that only the keenest mentalists can trace the wicked intentions behind.     To consider Kueglemann charming, moral and wise - are lies that even saints unwittingly preach. Gunther is more than a leader, he is a role model. Someone that despite his title as a mayor, or in the past as a noble adviser and court alchemist - still speaks with the downtrodden and helps them with mundane tasks.   Kueglemann weaves compliments and humour like a blade and even his presence alone is said to cut through tension.   Even when he speaks of promises that he seldom fully keeps, he still acts on them halfways. To an extent in which he garners both respect for his attempts of playing the hero, while also furthering his own goals.   He is a figure that is hard not to love, yet would never hesitate to betray those who hold him dear. With false loyalty, clear educated intelligence and sound advice. He is a man who earns the respect of liege and citizens alike. Carefully crafting unity like an expert sculptor, before shattering it apart with a single measured stroke. To disappear like another nameless victim when the inevitable conflict escalates.     Born in Peregon, within the kingdom of Cendregon - Gunther Kueglemann was once an ordinary peasant with an interest in alchemy. From the kitchen inside his cottage he cooked up folk remedies and experimental poultices. Researching their effects in his hunt for the unexpected.   It was during one fateful night that Gunther found himself trapped in a lucid nightmare. All around him were doors, which closed and opened at random. The hallways filled with glowing eyes and pure darkness.   Slowly, Kueglemann came to the realization that it was no mere dream - but a communication with something ancient. An entity which called itself Doorman.   Doorman offered the young alchemist everything he desired. Power, joy and all the tools he needed for the greatest experiment ever. To burn down the law and order of society and bask in the consequences of destruction.   Any sane individual would have denied Doorman his offer, but to Gunther it was a kind of release. Afterall, why should he toil until his back gives in, while some are born to reside on the highest of pedestals. In a time when sickness, war and death was another Tuesday - Doorman was not simply evil, but a necessity to free the world from the old and give room for the new to rise.   In his dreams, Gunther wandered through the doors of an endless library. Gathering the forbidden knowledge he’d require to become the best alchemist in the world. When he woke up in the morning, he acted.   The fruits of his labours were recognized early by the Kingdom - and the King, with a deathly sick daughter, called for him in desperation. With a condition that should have spelled out the girl’s fate, Kueglemann cured her bone-withering disease with a poultice that transmutated her marrow into liquid titanium. Turning her skeleton hard as metal. Not only saving the child, but granting her powers beyond mortal means.   There was no question about it. Gunther had become the King’s closest servant before the thought of a ceremony had been uttered.   For years he’d serve as a transmuter, healer and diplomat that helped stabilize Cendregon by supporting the royalty while improving conditions and laws for the people. The kingdom was just about to enter a golden age for the dynasty, when things suddenly flipped. Whispers of corruption and dissent echoed through the walls, as the daughter, now a young woman, turned against her family. Believing Gunther's tales that the other nobles sought to assassinate her father, the daughter gathered a small contingency of knights and armed villagers.   What followed was a bloody slaughter and civil war that completely broke the trust in Cendregon’s aristocracy. The citizens watching from afar, the battle of the city only escalated. Soon, foreign armies stood at the borders. Burning down the entire place in a desperation to save their married away families and relatives.