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Burger Warrior

Member Since 07 May 2011
Offline Last Active Today, 11:42 PM

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Korvarl Silvershield

01 June 2017 - 12:56 PM





Korvarl Silvershield



Full Name: Korvarl Silvershield

Aliases: The Sharp Hammer


Sex: Male

Race: Mountain Dwarf

Birthplace: Dvergar Gate (well, thereabouts, anyway)


Affinity: Lightning

Deity: Tyr

Faction: Formerly Iron Gauntlet, now none


Talents: Dwarven Blacksmithing, Martial Combat, Intimidation, Diplomacy, Knowledge (Dwarven)



Strength: 9

Agility: 5 - 1 = 4

Constitution: 7 + 2 = 9

Perception: 5

Intelligence: 8

Spirit: 5

Luck: 3


Appearance: Short and stout, even amongst other dwarves, when Korvarl’s body is revealed from under its armor one can easily make out his heavily-muscled build. However, despite looking like nothing more than a common bruiser or mercenary, it’s impossible to ignore the glint of intelligence in his sharp eyes.


Inventory: Fortune Hunter

  • 1 full set of padded clothing/armor (gambeson, pants, and skull cap)

  • 1 full set of steel plate mail

  • 1 iron tower shield

  • 1 full set of simple clothing

  • 1 brown traveling cloak

  • 1 iron hand ax

  • 1 torch

  • 1 small knife

  • 1 map of the area around the Dvergar Gate

  • 1 clean bandage

  • Flint and tinder

  • Water and rations


Korvarl Silvershield was a steadfast and trusty dwarf since he could hold an axe, serving his family and friends faithfully for a good century at the Dvergar Gate. However, he was finally nudged into becoming one of the Iron Gauntlet’s Enforcers; an easy enough task with his nigh-spotless track record. However, as an Enforcer he was rarely doing any guarding. To test his loyalty and abilities, he was in charge of disrupting Dwarven business on the surface of Midgard that refused to obey the Iron Gauntlet’s commandments.


At first, Korvarl went about his duties with gusto, proud of his work in keeping law and order. However, sharp as he was, the dwarf soon noticed the negative effect his orders were having on the lives of others. Having believed for a long time his work - his purpose in life, even - was to protect and guide others to make their existences easier, the relatively young Silvershield soon realized his orders were contradicting everything he believed in.


Thus, he turned against the Iron Gauntlet - not publicly, of course - and began to help those that broke their laws. Conveniently allowing them to escape whenever he was sent to quash a humble blacksmith’s business and preventing the discovery of others when he could. However, for all his hard work, it was only inevitable the Gauntlet began to find holes in their operations, pocketbooks… and in Korvarl’s actions. His fate was finally set in stone when he was caught in the act of planning another rogue dwarf’s escape.


Dragged back to the Dvergar Gate in chains, he was publicly judged, dishonored before his guild and clan, and hurled out into the wilds of Northrim. Banished from his home, Korvarl Silvershield refused found himself at a loss with all that he knew taken from him. His lack of ties to anyone in the Iron Gauntlet meant he could no longer help ‘rogue’ dwarves nearly as well as before, and his newly-shaved beard left him with no respect amongst his kin.


Feeling distinctly empty and hopeless, he’s wandered westward in hope of some way to either regain his former status to more effectively help others… or perhaps find a new path.


Campaign History:




Clan Silvershield (Disgraced)

The Iron Gauntlet (Disgraced)



Stubborn, stern, and very much an intermediate, Korvarl has spent a great deal of his life guiding and guarding others. Even his brief stint as an Enforcer of the Iron Gauntlet couldn’t change this in him, though it did encourage him to get a little more emotionally-invested in people. One could see this as a weakness, though, as it has led to his heart bleeding ever since he was banished from his clan and kicked out of the Gauntlet.


Currency: 25 gold, 40 silver, 35 copper

Erik Fyodorov

20 May 2017 - 06:34 PM

Erik Fyodorov



Full Name: Erik Fyodorov

Aliases: None, as of yet.


Sex: Male

Race: Werewolf (Nordling)

Birthplace: Northrim, Endibraut Hall


Affinity: Air

Deity: Odin

Faction: None


Talents: Survival, Martial Combat, Balanced Soul, Charisma



Strength: 8 + 2 = 10

Agility: 5 + 2 = 7

Constitution: 8 + 2 = 10

Perception: 5 + 3 = 8

Intelligence: 5

Spirit: 8

Luck: 3


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 torch

-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.


Campaign History:







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

Hollae, Fury of the Forest

20 May 2017 - 06:33 PM

Hollae, Fury of the Forest



Full Name: Hollae

Aliases: Fury of the Forest


Sex: Female

Race: Dryad (Oread)

Birthplace: Northrim, Mimameidr


Affinity: Earth

Deity: Heimdall

Magic: Spiritual

Faction: None


Talents: Marksmanship, Martial Combat, Intimidation, Survival



Strength: 7

Agility: 4

Constitution: 7

Perception: 10 - 1 = 9

Intelligence: 5

Spirit: 5 + 2 = 7

Luck: 4


Appearance: Hollae is pretty tall for a dryad - that is, about the moderate height of a human woman - and surprisingly well-muscled for a member of her species as well. Her fair, elven features are typically plastered in some form of confident smirk. Her shoulder-length green hair is, more often than not, tied back into a loose ponytail to keep her vision clear, and this sort of practical thought is put into her clothing as well as the features she takes on as she becomes more tree-like.


Completely shape-shifted, Hollae takes the form of a tall and somewhat broad pine tree, but short of that she prioritizes vital organs with her bark-like skin, and grows what is best described as a skirt of needles with which to pluck and hurl at opponents or fashion into makeshift arrows for her bow, with a bit of work.


Inventory: (Fortune Hunter)

-1x full set of leather armor

-1x full set of simple, distinctly leaf-like clothing (short, sleeveless dress and fur boots)

-1x leaf-like traveling cloak

-1x iron-tipped spear

-1x bow

-20x pine-like arrows (noticeably lacking iron tips)

-1 map of Mimameidr and some of its surroundings

-1 clean bandage

-Water and rations



Fairly young for one of her kind, Hollae has seen few winters; partly thanks to spending a fair few of her younger years in Mimameidr’s ever-warm heart. Trained by other Oreades from pretty much the beginning to make use of her abilities for combat, Hollae has grown into a formidable fighter, seeing much battle against the Chaos races in particular. However, her lust for fighting began to worry some of her peers, especially as she grew to care less for the spirits - and even safety - of the forest in favor of smiting as many orcs and goblins as she could on and off the battlefield. They managed to convince her that maybe some time away from Mimameidr would be best for her, making her promise not to return until she managed some self-control and proper respect for the spirits of nature.


Campaign History:







Naive, passionate, and short-tempered pretty much sum Hollae up. She tends to fight first and ask questions later, and has little respect for people who put diplomacy or well-thought strategy over action.


Currency: 12 gold, 20 silver, 30 copper

Lydus Sticky-Fingers

19 May 2017 - 07:29 PM

Lydus Sitcky-Fingers



Full Name: Lydus Sticky-Fingers

Aliases: Rat, Slick, etc.


Sex: Male

Race: Human (Achaean)

Birthplace: Edrimark


Affinity: Earth

Deity: Olympians

Faction: Venator


Talents: Finesse Combat, Subtlety, Thievery, Venator Herbalism, Marksmanship



Strength: 3

Agility: 10

Constitution: 3

Perception: 9

Intelligence: 8

Spirit: 4

Luck: 5


Appearance: A small man, Lydus is simply not pleasing to the eye. His scruffy face seems to be permanently afflicted by a five o’clock shadow, and his thin, wiry form is almost always hunched over. Fortunately, more often than not, he tends to have his Venator cloak on, keeping most of his body out of sight. His sharp facial features are equally obscured by his rough pitch-black beard - if it can be called such - and framed by his thick, ratty, shoulder-length hair of similar color... that is, when its not further decorated with grime, grease, and dirt.


For all this, his eyes seem to shine keenly with a deep cunning, the dark orbs peering out from beneath his thin eyebrows and soaking up every detail in his surroundings.


Inventory: Venator Pack

-1 deepsilver chain shirt

-1 set of leather armor

-1 set of simple clothing

-1 steel sickle

-1 crossbow

-20 crossbow bolts

-5 crossbow bolts

-1 silver dagger

-1 blue cloak

-1 silver Venator brooch

-1 silver ring with a sapphire set on it (deeefinitely not stolen from a fine-looking noble lady)

-Flint and tinder

-Potion supplies

-3 clean bandages

-2 healing ointment

-2 sense-enhancing potions

-1 strength-enhancing potion

-1 anti-lycanthropy potion

-Water and rations



From a young age, Lydus Sticky-Fingers was raised on the streets of fine Edrimark, struggling to survive by any means necessary. While he often claims loudly he was related to some nobility there, there is no proof of it… and far more evidence of him learning to steal to get along near the beginning of his life. He ended up growing up with a whole gang of similarly-aged boys, all working together to scrounge what they could and make ends meet. It seemed like a grand old time for a while, and they all grew fairly close…


But, as these things go, they went too far and caught too much attention. Their hideout was discovered, most of them were cornered… and by that time, they were old enough that Lydus got to watch many of his friends - his adopted family - get hanged for a lengthy list of crimes. He, at the time, figured he was lucky enough to escape.


These days, though, he occasionally wonders if it would’ve been better if he’d taken one of their places.


At any rate, seeing as the city was still on alert for fugitive members of the gang, Lydus decided to learn the valuable lesson of living to fight another day. Slipping out of the city by night, he stole a horse and made his way… elsewhere. He had no map or guide but the road to lead him along… all the way to Castle Greywatch. It was here, in the decrepit headquarters of the Empire’s monster hunters, that Sticky-Fingers found a new family, and a new way of life. Sort of.


He quickly caught onto the more slippery ways of the Venatori, showing a great proficiency for traps and ambushes, recalling old tricks from his past that seemed to work well enough on monsters… most of the time. Lydus can never forget the times his cleverness was subverted by the raw bestial cunning of some monsters; and the price his companions have paid for it.


However, Lydus feels the Venatori is really the only place he can be, and thus he’s stuck around. As quick as he is to exploit others and leave towns with more loot than was offered, Sticky-Fingers does his damnedest to watch out for the organization that’s given him some form of purpose.


Campaign History:







Lydus is rude, blunt, and a kleptomaniac. He isn’t exactly friend-making material, and he doesn’t make it apparent he wants to make friends, anyway. Puppets and goons, sure, but he’s below everyone else. That’s where it’s easiest to cut their purses…


However, deep down he’s scarred by watching many of his old playmates get hanged, and a few pals he made amongst the Venatori falling to vicious monsters. He has, for lack of a better term, survivor’s guilt. It has, at times, nearly driven him to better his ways… but by that point he’s drunk his sorrows under and gone back to picking pockets.


Currency: 20 gold coins, 35 silver coins, 35 copper coins

Percula Saffron

15 May 2017 - 10:04 AM




Percula Saffron



Full Name: Percula Saffron

Aliases: ‘Perky’


Sex: Female

Race: Pixie

Birthplace: Rognosst Swamp


Affinity: Frost

Deity: Various foliage- and animal-related nature spirits

Magic: Gifted

Faction: None


Talents: Arcane Lore, Acrobatics, Herbalism, Subtlety, Thievery



Strength: 3 - 2 = 1

Agility: 10 + 6 = 16

Constitution: 3 - 2 = 1

Perception: 4 + 1 = 5

Intelligence: 8

Spirit: 10 + 4 = 14

Luck: 4


Appearance: Only a couple inches in height, Percula often uses her magic to appear as a yellow ‘will o’ wisp’. Only around those that she trusts or at least considers friends will she drop that guise and show her rather petite, fragile real shape. In this undisguised form, her blonde hair can clearly be seen flowing like so much spun gold, her green eyes flash with mischief, and her somewhat pale complexion compliments both of those features. That, and her pale green dress, which looks almost like it's been made out of rose petals.



-Fae bag

-Fae clothing

-Tiny gold circlet, gifted to her by Marcus Capulet after her deeds in Veritshire

-Various shiny things she has collected, sort of like currency (refer to currency for value)

-Miniature potion bottles and small samples of alchemical ingredients (definitely not stolen from Caiden's stash, whaaaat...)

-Several other items - mostly potions (a few namely of the size-changing variety; 2 growing and 2 shrinking concoctions, specifically) - that Caiden hauls around for her


Biography: Percula Saffron was born in a small pixie village in Rognosst Swamp. Like most pixies her family and friends were isolationists and kept all other sentient beings away from their town, be they beastfolk or human travelers. Growing up in this peaceful environment, Percula found she was… different from the others. She didn’t enjoy the same things, and often went about pulling off breakneck stunts and playing tricks on the others with her magic. That said, she found herself pretty much friendless as the others wanted no part in her shenanigans after the first few incidents, and soon Saffron began to wander away from the village, taking interest in other beings who wandered by.


It wasn’t long before she ended up trying to make contact with one such creature.


A young human adventurer, Virgo, was trying to take a shortcut through Rognosst one day. That in itself exemplified his youth and general inexperience. In fact, it was sheer luck he’d made it that far into the swamp without running into anything that had managed to kill him. Perhaps he had been legitimately missed, or the predators of the swamp were simply waiting for his guard to fall… whichever way it was, none would have suspected that Percula would not only approach this human, but speak to him.


Naturally, Virgo was completely enthralled by the little will o’ wisp that spoke to him, and he followed Percula without question. Fortunately for him, she decided to not abuse her sudden dominance over the human, and instead guided him toward where she was fairly sure the edge of the swamp was, talking with him along the way. She learned a fair deal about humans from Virgo, of the Empire and its conflicts with other creatures, and Virgo learned a little about his companion in return. Whether for better or worse, though, he never got to take this knowledge home.


A swamp troll ambushed them, and while Percula could easily evade it, her friend was not so fortunate. That, and he was foolish and decided he could take a troll out all on his own. Saffron left him for dead, rather reluctantly, though what she heard as she fled left her in no doubt of his fate.


Saddening as it was, it was this that led Percula to seriously consider leaving the swamp. She didn’t think other humans would act or react very differently around and to her, in comparison to Virgo, so she saw no harm in it. Packing what few belongings she had, she took off, zipping through the forest as fast as her wings could take her. Days passed of flying through the wilderness, somehow avoiding all contact with humans and most other creatures as she headed almost straight west, right through the forest of shadows. Thanks to her wings, that wasn’t a very big problem at all, but having to fly for days on end with little rest, no company, and very few places to find shelter became a huge problem she’d never faced before.


Maybe a week since Percula Saffron left Rognosst Swamp, worn down by the rigors of her journey across relatively open country, she ran into the knight Tom Drake and his party of (mostly) human friends, and since then has journey with the group as far south as Kemhet, and is still gallivanting through the Empire, namely with her newfound lover, Caiden Voros.


(TL;DR: curious pixie meets a human explorer, learning something about their culture before she’s forced to leave him to die at a monster’s hands. Leaves home to investigate humans more, meeting Tom Drake, Caiden Voros, and others. She joins them on various adventures [refer to campaign history] and continues to stick by Caiden to this day)


Campaign History:

-Free-roam from the very beginning of Errant ("Team Drake," later "Team Caiden"), including quests such as "The Beast of Illikon" and "The Mansion Mystery"

-Veritshire: The Changing of the Guard

-Chasing Shadows



-Perhaps the strongest and most obvious relationship Percula has is with Caiden Voros, her lover.

-She is on friendly terms with Marcus Capulet, Kye Vakurseth, and Tom Drake - though she’s reluctant to admit as much in that last case.

-Through no one’s fault but her own, she’s on shaky ground with Neitha Ardet.

-She views Agethar Twin-Axe as a good source of laughter, but little else.

-Percula will never, ever be friends with Albertus Lysander. Ever.



While tamed by her experience with such notable (mostly) humans as Caiden Voros and Tom Drake, Percula still retains a strong mischievous streak, courtesy of her childhood and fae nature. Fortunately for friends of Caiden, she (usually) also considers them her friends, and in any case is typically too busy either being occupied by her lover in one way or another or planning vengeance against Caid’s various enemies… not that it’s usually more than a slight pain in the arse. Perky usually doesn’t go for killing unless she loses her temper or someone really makes themselves a nuisance to herself or Caid - such as persons like Albertus Lysander.


While her love for Caiden is arguably her greatest strength and tie to morality, it’s also one of her greater weaknesses; Percula is, without a doubt, most frightened by the thought of losing Caiden… one way or another. It’s hardly a secret to those who know her well (essentially just Caiden, really) that his curse keeps her up at night, sometimes, even if she tries to find positive sides to it. Despite her attempts to find a silver lining to Caid’s current predicament, Perky’s dedicated herself to either trying to outright cure her lover or at the very least help him control his otherworldly taint.


Currency: 90 gold, 40 copper