Highwayman

Lore & Background

Before the Manor's iron grip, the Highwayman was a name whispered in the taverns along the old trade roads. He and his small crew would ambush merchant caravans at dusk, take what they wanted, and vanish into the treeline before the guards could muster. It was a clean, honest living by the standards of the outlands—until the Manor's men caught him at a crossroads, stripped him of his knife, and dragged him to the manor's gates in chains. The offer was simple: serve as a healer, or rot in the cellar. He chose the bow over the cell.

Now he wears the Manor's livery with the same grudging obedience he once wore his own bandit mask. His healing is not born of devotion or prayer; it is the same quick, practical triage he used to keep his own crew alive after a botched ambush. He stitches wounds, sets bones, and mutters curses under his breath the entire time. The Vestal heals with grace. The Highwayman heals like a man who has seen too many people die on the roadside and refuses to add another.

Among the other heroes, he occupies a strange middle ground. The Man-at-Arms and the Cleric look at him with suspicion. The Plague Doctor studies him with clinical interest. And the Vestal, perhaps, understands him best—two healers, one who believes in the light and one who simply refuses to let the dark win by default. He never fully trusts the Manor. He simply trusts that the alternative is worse.

In Their Own Story

The torchlight sways in the cellar, painting the stone walls in long amber strokes. The Highwayman kneels beside the Man-at-Arms, whose gut is open and weeping dark. He works fast—fingers steady, jaw tight—pressing linen into the wound while the big man snarls and swears. Above them, the Vestal chants her low, steady prayer, and the air smells of myrrh and old blood.

"You're bleeding out, you great oaf," the Highwayman mutters, not looking up. His mask is tucked under his arm, revealing a face lined and weathered, eyes the flat grey of a winter road. "Hold still. I've stitched worse. I've stitched a lot worse."

The Man-at-Arms grunts. The bleeding slows. The Highwayman ties off the last knot, wipes his hands on his leather apron, and reaches for his bow. Somewhere above, the dungeon groans and shifts, and the next wave is already coming.

He nocks an arrow. Doesn't pray. Doesn't need to. He just aims, and the dark beyond the torchlight feels a little less hungry.

Reader's Guide

Tactical Role: The Highwayman fills the healer slot in a party, providing reliable single-target and group healing alongside modest offensive options. He is the go-to healer when you want a slightly more aggressive support than the Vestal, or when you've already secured her and want a second medical voice. His healing numbers are solid but generally trail the Vestal's at higher levels, so position him carefully in the back row.

Stress Profile: As a healer, he is moderately resilient to stress, but his rogue temperament means he can tip into irritability and cynicism under sustained pressure. Watch for afflictions that lock his healing or push him into reckless aggression. Pair him with a stress-stabilizing hero like the Man-at-Arms or the Vestal to keep him functional through long dungeon runs.

Skill Kit: His kit centers on two healing abilities—one targeting the most wounded hero and one hitting the whole party—plus a handful of ranged attacks and a defensive option. He can also apply a short buff that improves his own accuracy. The mix means he is never purely passive; he can contribute damage in a pinch while still keeping the crew alive.

Visual & Audio Identity: He is instantly recognizable by his bandit mask, patched leather jacket, and the bow slung across his back. His animations are quick and furtive—ducking, nocking, loosing an arrow with a sharp twang. His voice is low, raspy, and laced with dry sarcasm, a far cry from the Vestal's warm cadence.

Narrative Significance: He represents the Manor's willingness to repurpose even its enemies. His arc across the campaign is quiet: a criminal who chose service over freedom, healing not from faith but from stubborn, practical refusal to watch his crew die. He never fully warms to the Manor, and the player never fully trusts him either. That uneasy balance is his entire story.

Did You Know?

• The Highwayman is one of only two dedicated healer classes in the base game, the other being the Vestal, and his healing style is deliberately framed as pragmatic triage rather than sacred ritual.
• His bandit mask is a removable visual element; in several of his idle and action animations, the mask is tucked under his arm, revealing a weathered, unsmiling face.
• His backstory positions him as a captured criminal rather than a volunteer, making his loyalty to the Manor fundamentally transactional—he serves because the alternative is a cellar, not because he believes in the Manor'
• In party composition, the Highwayman and the Vestal can coexist, giving a crew two independent healing sources, though this often means sacrificing a dedicated damage or tank slot.