Full Name: Erik Fyodorov
Aliases: None, as of yet.
Race: Werewolf (Nordling)
Birthplace: Northrim, Endibraut Hall
Talents: Survival, Martial Combat, Balanced Soul, Charisma
Strength: 8 + 2 = 10
Agility: 5 + 2 = 7
Constitution: 8 + 2 = 10
Perception: 5 + 3 = 8
Appearance: Erik is of average height for a young Nordling man, with a well-muscled and somewhat heavy-set build. His sky blue eyes seem to shine out from behind a short but thick beard, one that most of his face’s strong features. His golden hair flows down a little past his shoulders, often left undone as Fyodorov has little time or will to bother adjusting his locks beyond the use of sweatbands and loose braids to keep it out of his sky blue eyes.
His wolf shape is particularly tall, taking after a timberwolf in the pattern and color of its coat.
Inventory: (Fortune Hunter)
-1 full set of simple, distinctly loose clothing
-1 wolf pelt
-1 iron sword
-1 iron axe
-1 rough map of Northrim
-1 clean bandage
-Flint and tinder
-Water and rations
-Iron pendant in the shape of an anvil
Born and raised by a warrior father and smithy mother in Endibraut Hall, Erik grew to embrace both sides of his heritage. Even as he trained to survive the heat of battle, he assembled his own equipment within the heat of his mother’s forge. However, as Erik aged his passion for crafting rapidly lessened as his father weakened, urging the young nord to take up his old man’s mantle. Fyodorov took it a step further, however, as he pushed himself to take up the mantle of a berserker to honor his dying parent.
But not just any animal spirit would do in this endeavor. No, Erik choose to wield the power of a wolf in his sudden quest for glory.
This inevitably proved to be his undoing; or rather, the undoing of his foolish ambitions. Leading the charge of his fellow warriors from the front every chance he had, Erik found himself relying more and more on the spirit of his wolfskin for power… until, finally, it was too much. In the heat of a particularly bloody conflict, Fyodorov changed before the eyes of his brothers and sisters. While the newly-cursed werewolf carved a swathe through the Chaos hordes they had been best by, Erik awoke to find himself cast away by his friends. His mother, however, had one last ounce of wisdom to leave him before she was forced to turn away.
His father had died with honor, and Erik had never needed to let go out and try to win him more, or even go out with glory himself. Even though his quest was, ultimately, a failure, he still had the rest of his life to live as he wished, and while he was cursed… Erik soon found his ‘other self’ was a surprisingly meek and evasive creature which evaded conflict even when he was certain he turned in a rather popular place that ought to have suffered easily at the hands of a werewolf. This guess has emboldened him to enjoy the company of others often, Fyodorov confident that they have nothing to fear in him, and he in them.
Quicker to laugh and sing than to fight, Erik is a carefree spirit who still offers his praises to Odin even after falling victim to… well, what others might say were Odin’s machinations, but Erik feels were his own. Eager to explore the world and leave friends in his wake, Fyodorov is loathe to be left alone and thus often seeks traveling companions of any shape or size.
Currency: 10 gold, 75 copper