| Akeron | PCs | Erik as Hakaar

Character Profile

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Hakaar - Introduction

Aggression has been my way. I could say I was born in blood, which wouldn’t really be true. But I can say I was born in conflict. Hopelessly overwhelming conflict. The kind that makes you feel a little too insignificant, like and ant bracing against a heavy boot.


When I was young I was plucked from the battlefield amidst that chaos of the 10 Years War. My mother, a strong human frontier woman, and my father, a half-Orc trapper from the plains, had likely fallen when the Elven armies exacted revenge for encroaching on their precious forests. In hindsight, it seemed to be a misunderstanding that blew up into all out war.


I lived in a world that took all my strength to keep up with. I rolled with the punches until I got stronger. I lived in makeshift cities and military camps bristling with weapons and the sounds of battle. Every inch of my keep was earned, and I grew through each challenge, step by step.


Then, in the process of that forging, my glowing hot youth was dropped into cold water, hardened under the guidance of generals and commanders. I was taught to harness that fire and bring it to bear against the enemy. I may have understood it as a misunderstanding, but even with that said, I’d have slain the mad Elven king myself given half the chance. He wasn’t around, so I took every opportunity to send his kin back to him in chunks.


It was a battle above our heads, though. The Elves had a Titan which slammed through our front lines with little effort. It was only when a man from the city of Materune. His name was Antuark somesuch.  He had found a way to take control of a Titan himself. That fight felled the Elves’ Titan and pushed them back to their forests. We didn’t stop there, though, we took the fight right up to the doorstep of the king. Our squad, the Grasslions, finished off the king. I wasn’t lucky enough to lay the final blow, but I was there to see his madness squelched.


After the mad Elven king fell, there was an unnatural quiet. The Elves themselves were long since tired of the aggression, it was the king alone that drove things along. Our forces pulled back, leaving their forests as the Elves relented and promised reparations. Treaties were drawn up, and conflict subsided. Then there was something I hadn’t ever known, something I never expected to see. Peace.


Not for me, though. It was became a different sort of conflict. My home was no more than a greasy smear on the map my former life lay buried. Established cities of civilized society felt nothing like the makeshift city-camps the ringed the fields of battle. It was all so achingly quiet and yet my fire still burned. I was put in control of my path again, but to what end?


I itched, I fidgeted, and, finally, I decided.


When my service was up, I had been handed my service pay, and a chit that let me take advantage of the Ethesia Houses to travel to any connected city. Sgt. Duncan was a man whom I served with. He knew I had no place to go and he saw that my fire still burned.


“I’m going far to the North to retire. I’m done fighting battles for someone else,” he said. “It’s well away from all of petty squabbles that go above all our heads. I have a few joining me, but I wouldn’t mind your company.”


“Thank you, sir,” I responded crisply,”I’m hoping to find my own way.”


“If you ever find it isn’t enough, then find me.” He clapped my shoulder, “And stop calling me sir.”


It was months ago that Duncan had extended the offer. I had tried settling with security and guard jobs. I tried, but it was hard to find a place in civilization for me. You could say that I’d learned manners in the military, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I’ve been looked down the nose, a feat, I may add, as most of my employers were a few heads shorter. It was almost as if being civilized meant insulting to others and taking their insults gracefully. It rarely got the better of me, but when it did, it always ended in a beautiful disaster with someone that was not me getting a broken nose--if not a cracked skull.


I was fed up with being disrespected, so I took Duncan up on his offer. I spent my remaining wages and made my way North avoiding most of the travel by turning in my travel chit and warily stepping on the platform to Dowry at the Ethesia House in Materune.


I ended up at Kellas House covered from the thigh’s down in mud in my old campaigner’s armor and equipment. Duncan welcomed me with open arms, which was what I expected. Still, I couldn’t help but think that I was just another stray taking advantage of his good nature.


That thought aside, I’m in new land. It definitely feels like a frontier, but I see hints of ancient construction mixed among the water soaked land. I felt good and my options were open again. Sometimes you just need a different perspective.

 


Statistics
STR 18
DEX 12
CON 16
INT 8
WIS 10
CHA 8
 
Class Barbarian (Superstition)
Age  
Hometown Jezero
Occupation  
Siblings 3rd of 3
Physical Characteristics
Height 6' 10"
Weight 260
Race Half-Orc
Eye Color Green
Hair Color Black
Distinguishing Features  
Fashion Sense  
Mannerisms  
Habits  
Speech Patterns  
Greatest Flaw  
Best Quality  
Religion  
   
Training Bonuses
3rd Level
Shield Wall
As long as a Fighter type is in 5' of Hakaar he gains a +1 to AC.

4th Level
War Cry

When Hakaar kills an opponent he can (as a free action) attempt a demorlize roll against an opponent within 30'.
   
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