Name: Mogun

Age: 40

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Race Description:


Appearance:
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Mogun is a big man, measuring 190cm in length and 120kg in weight. He is muscular and broad, not defined like a bodybuilder but thick and tough like a proper strong man. He has vivid green eyes and fiery red hair, both traits of his Karlandish ancestry. Mogun has a several tattoos on his body, most in the shapes of animals traditional to Karlandish warriors. He is usually dressed in warm and durable clothes of his own making.

Notable Equipment:
An old and well-worn longaxe with several notches carved in the the handle, a fur coat made from a bear he once slew, a drinking horn carved from a bull-man he once bested.

Background:
Mogun is a big bastard and always was. Both his parents were, too, and warriors at that. It wasn't particularly odd, then, that Mogun and his four siblings all became warriors themselves. It is actually a pretty common trade in the Karlands, where life always seems a little harsher than everywhere else. Mogun lost all his family and everyone he knew when his tribe lost to another in a feud. He was banished from his homeland on pain of death and thus had to make a living elsewhere. He didn't know a lot about life outside the Karlands; hell, he didn't know much about life there either (apart from fighting), so he decided to go with what he did know. He became a mercenary, a thug, a killer and a sword for hire. He has been on one or both sides of a battle for most of his adult life, never staying in one place for too long. In the quiet years between wars he helps with pest-removal in villages, rooting out beasts and monsters for villages and towns. He'd had made a fortune for himself if it wasn't for his terrible hand with money; he just can't seem to hold onto it for more than a fortnight.

These days Mogun stays out of the battles as much as possible and is more inclined to deal with the troubles of the villages and towns. He's fed up with politics and always find himself in arguments or fights over old struggles he doesn't even remember anymore. He has become tired and bored with the endless killing and is looking for some meaning in his life, but has trouble finding it.

Name: Reeks

Age: 8

Gender: Male

Race: Ratfolk

Race Description: The Ratfolk, so named for their very nature and living preferences, are essentially bipedal vermin. They take the appearance of small, frail humans with exaggerated eyes and mouths, lack of ears and noses, and elongated fingers. They are born, raised, and die in places with high concentrations of filth, debris, and pollution. Decades of breeding rampantly in these areas have caused them to develop immunities to the various diseases that would normally afflict any who enter. Ratfolk are also highly agile and responsive, able to evade a wide variety of offensives with ease, and they are capable of vision even in complete darkness. Contrasting these traits are several distinct weaknesses, however. Ratfolk are incredibly sensitive to sunlight and are blinded by it easily, and they possess a natural aversion to fire. The average Ratfolk lifespan is also a meager twenty years, which is a contributing drive towards their procreation habits.

Appearance:


Notable Equipment: Reeks literally wears nothing but a loincloth, a band of string around his left arm, and an iron collar around his neck from his time as a circus sideshow. The collar is really the only noteworthy item.

Background: Reeks, who earned his nickname for his pungent odor, was a young Ratfolk living in the abandoned town of Pecherville, which has long stood as the junkyard of the region. Almost all trash ends up there somehow, and the Ratfolk revel in it. Among them, he was an ordinary individual, picking through refuse and smiling every second of his short life. One fine day, when he was seven years old, he wandered a bit too far out from the bordering sludge mounds and ended up getting captured by a band of hunters, who subsequently sold him to a traveling circus. With his addition to the roster of oddities aboard the carts, he showed the crowds what the absolute lowest form of sentient life looked like. This didn’t carry on for long, however. After some months had passed, a mass breakout was conducted by one of the circus’s caretakers, who’d grown hateful of the way the creatures had been treated. Amidst the ensuing chaos, Reeks managed to escape, and is now attempting to find his way back to Pecherville. The circus had travelled far with him in tow however, and finding his way back home will certainly prove difficult.