Name: Feidlimid Bran Udødelig (Fied luh mid Brawn Ooh doh delay.)
Titles: The Beautiful Undying Raven
Affiliation: The Berserker Warbands, serving under the Chieftain as a soldier.
Gender: Male
Age: 31
Birthplace: Unknown, born to a mother who abandoned him to the cold. Found and raised by the women of the Berserker Warband.
Race: Berserker
Appearance: Eyes sparkling like the crystal waters of a glacial lake, shimmering so brightly blue that some would even say they glowed like the morning sun. Hair flowing beyond his shoulders, so perfect in texture and shine. Perfect golden locks blow in the wind behind him. A body like a greek god, perfectly chisseled without any visible fat on his body. From his neck down he is coated in grizzly scars from countless battles, some scars are from wounds that would have felled greater men. His face is twisted and short, his nose too wide and brow set low. His mouth is adorned with lines of fury at all times. His teeth are filed to points, his gums are fragile and bleed frequently. Feidlimid has the strangest face that some have ever seen.
In the frozen north one must protect oneself from the winds, so he wears the pelts of five beasts. A bear, a boar, a wolf, a deer, and a mountain lion. With the beasts heads intact, the pelts hang off of his body, obscuring his visage from those who face him. He looks like a five headed beast on the battlefield, a morbid chimera in human form. Wielding an axe so large it could cleave any number of great beasts in half with but one swing. Beneath his pelts is a suit of hefty armor with even more fur beneath.
When he ingests the Berserker Drug his heart rate skyrockets, his blood boils and the air around him begins to steam. Clouds of mist exude from the furs on his body, making his appearance even more inhuman. Like a spirit of death he storms across the battlefield, washing away all who stand in his way. Wordlessly and violently, Feidlimid is truly a sight to behold.
Occupation: Soldier
Resources:
Fur and Iron armor: The skin of bears, boars, mountain lions, deer, and wolves. Strapped over a partial suit of chain and plate. It protects him from cold winds and sharp swords alike. Just as strong as any suit of iron armor.
Two Sheep Bladders full of the Berserker Drug: Approximately two gallons worth of the drug that allows him to go into the Berserker State.
The Ravenous Bloodthief: A greataxe of epic proportions, crafted from tooth and bone and iron. A great beast of the sea plagued the Berserkers, killing all who dared sail its sea. A great warrior stepped up and slay the beast with a single swipe from a sword twice as long as himself. Then he left wordlessly, leaving the corpse of the monster on the shore. The Warband took its body and forged numerous weapons from its bones and teeth, but none were greater than the Ravenous Bloodthief. Created to be as long and great as the sword of the mysterious warrior, its weight was so great that even the strongest of warriors couldn't use it properly.
When Feidlimid took the weapon up as a boy it was a worthless weight upon his shoulders, but as the years passed it became evident that ONLY Feidlimid could use it. He took it as his own and weilds it with pride. Strangely enough, when he's on the field of battle. Remarks pass from mouth to ear of how he looks very much like the nameless warrior who slayed the sea beast.
Skills:
Proficiency with Large Weapons: When Feidlimid chose his weapon he chose the largest axe he could find, the older warriors laughed at him when the weapon he chose towered over him. They laughed even harder when he could barely stand while holding it. Years later, after countless days and nights of persistent training, Feidlimid now weilds the greatest of axes with ease. His own axe, crafted from bone and iron weighs well over 200 lbs.
Hunting: Though unconventional, Feidlimid hunts with his bare hands. Tackling his prey and breaking their necks, he'd prefer this to hunt with his axe. But a swing of his axe tends to shred the flesh and make a grizzly unusable mess. He hunts with no armor and no weapons.
Tracking: A necessity in the northern lands, to find food in such a barren landscape one must know where it hides.
Incredible Strength and Stamina: Even without his berserker rage he is strong enough to heft his greataxe around in combat, and utilize it without much risk to himself. He's strong enough to break bones with his bare hands and shatter wooden shields with a kick. Though this strength is not superhuman, in reality he can barely lift his axe on his own. When he swings it, they are low sweeping swings towards the legs and maybe the torso. It is only when he takes the berserker drug that he can properly use his weapon. There are no vertical swings of his axe unless he is in the blood rage.
Berserker Blood Rage: When a man of the Berserker tribe ingests the Berserker drug, he falls into a trance like state. Their eyes narrow to the width of a pinhead and they get tunnel vision. They lose themselves to the blood rage and their strength almost triples, they become unstoppable juggernauts on the field of battle. Deadly wounds don't even slow them down, an arrow to the chest will stay in his chest until his body collapses from exhaustion. They clench their teeth so hard that their gums bleed, their internal temperature rises, their heart pumps dangerously fast. They are hot to the touch, steaming in the wintery winds of the north. The blood rage lasts a few hours and leaves all who take it unable to move for hours afterwards. Only the strongest actually survive the ordeal, leaving nothing but strong warriors in the Berserker Warband.
Personality:
The effects of the Berserker's Drug are degenerative and horrifying. The changes to a user's psyche can be so drastic that they can never be corrected. Feidlimid is one of the unfortunate souls who can never return to a normal life. The drug has stained his brain, his mind is tainted with the spillage of blood. Faces and names are lost to him forever, a life that he once knew is now a photograph soaked in blood. Unrecognizable and painful to think about. There is a woman who said she was once his wife, but her face and voice didn't stick with him for long. All that is left of Feidlimid is a husk, a hollow. A violent being with no purpose in life, beyond the slaughter and gore of the battlefield. In the rare moments where he is off the field of bloodshed he is reserved and silent, trying actively to keep his temper in check. He's prone to uncontrollable fits of violent rage,making him a detriment to those who would trust him.
Behind the monster lies the faintest echoes of a once great man, and sometimes he will make slight but noticeable actions that mirror that once great man.
He once, before the drug, held the gods in high regard. Worship daily, following their ideals to the letter. But now, he can't even remember what a god is. The halls of Valhalla once called to him, but now an echo of Hel rings his name.
Biography: Born to a mother who cheated on her husband with a traveler, he was left in the wild to die. As the cold began to clutch at his heart, a brawny soldier found the infant who had just let out his final helpless wail. Feidlimid was nursed back to health and raised into a great warrior. Even before he was introduced to the Berserker Drug he was a fierce warrior, at the age of 16 he was able to keep stride with the blood rage warriors. On the field of battle at the age of 20, after seven campaigns, he was offered the Berserker Drug. Four days later, he awoke in the enemy encampment. Not a soul was alive, and he was naked and blood soaked. As time wore on he began to take it compulsively, until the rage didn't even cause him to black out. He watched every second pass by in the blood rage, and still does to this day. Feidlimid slowly lost himself, everything that he had built up in his youth tore down as he waged war after war. Now, in his silver years he still battles like a youth, but his heart is deeply pained by what he has become.
Titles: The Beautiful Undying Raven
Affiliation: The Berserker Warbands, serving under the Chieftain as a soldier.
Gender: Male
Age: 31
Birthplace: Unknown, born to a mother who abandoned him to the cold. Found and raised by the women of the Berserker Warband.
Race: Berserker
Appearance: Eyes sparkling like the crystal waters of a glacial lake, shimmering so brightly blue that some would even say they glowed like the morning sun. Hair flowing beyond his shoulders, so perfect in texture and shine. Perfect golden locks blow in the wind behind him. A body like a greek god, perfectly chisseled without any visible fat on his body. From his neck down he is coated in grizzly scars from countless battles, some scars are from wounds that would have felled greater men. His face is twisted and short, his nose too wide and brow set low. His mouth is adorned with lines of fury at all times. His teeth are filed to points, his gums are fragile and bleed frequently. Feidlimid has the strangest face that some have ever seen.
In the frozen north one must protect oneself from the winds, so he wears the pelts of five beasts. A bear, a boar, a wolf, a deer, and a mountain lion. With the beasts heads intact, the pelts hang off of his body, obscuring his visage from those who face him. He looks like a five headed beast on the battlefield, a morbid chimera in human form. Wielding an axe so large it could cleave any number of great beasts in half with but one swing. Beneath his pelts is a suit of hefty armor with even more fur beneath.
When he ingests the Berserker Drug his heart rate skyrockets, his blood boils and the air around him begins to steam. Clouds of mist exude from the furs on his body, making his appearance even more inhuman. Like a spirit of death he storms across the battlefield, washing away all who stand in his way. Wordlessly and violently, Feidlimid is truly a sight to behold.
Occupation: Soldier
Resources:
Fur and Iron armor: The skin of bears, boars, mountain lions, deer, and wolves. Strapped over a partial suit of chain and plate. It protects him from cold winds and sharp swords alike. Just as strong as any suit of iron armor.
Two Sheep Bladders full of the Berserker Drug: Approximately two gallons worth of the drug that allows him to go into the Berserker State.
The Ravenous Bloodthief: A greataxe of epic proportions, crafted from tooth and bone and iron. A great beast of the sea plagued the Berserkers, killing all who dared sail its sea. A great warrior stepped up and slay the beast with a single swipe from a sword twice as long as himself. Then he left wordlessly, leaving the corpse of the monster on the shore. The Warband took its body and forged numerous weapons from its bones and teeth, but none were greater than the Ravenous Bloodthief. Created to be as long and great as the sword of the mysterious warrior, its weight was so great that even the strongest of warriors couldn't use it properly.
When Feidlimid took the weapon up as a boy it was a worthless weight upon his shoulders, but as the years passed it became evident that ONLY Feidlimid could use it. He took it as his own and weilds it with pride. Strangely enough, when he's on the field of battle. Remarks pass from mouth to ear of how he looks very much like the nameless warrior who slayed the sea beast.
Skills:
Proficiency with Large Weapons: When Feidlimid chose his weapon he chose the largest axe he could find, the older warriors laughed at him when the weapon he chose towered over him. They laughed even harder when he could barely stand while holding it. Years later, after countless days and nights of persistent training, Feidlimid now weilds the greatest of axes with ease. His own axe, crafted from bone and iron weighs well over 200 lbs.
Hunting: Though unconventional, Feidlimid hunts with his bare hands. Tackling his prey and breaking their necks, he'd prefer this to hunt with his axe. But a swing of his axe tends to shred the flesh and make a grizzly unusable mess. He hunts with no armor and no weapons.
Tracking: A necessity in the northern lands, to find food in such a barren landscape one must know where it hides.
Incredible Strength and Stamina: Even without his berserker rage he is strong enough to heft his greataxe around in combat, and utilize it without much risk to himself. He's strong enough to break bones with his bare hands and shatter wooden shields with a kick. Though this strength is not superhuman, in reality he can barely lift his axe on his own. When he swings it, they are low sweeping swings towards the legs and maybe the torso. It is only when he takes the berserker drug that he can properly use his weapon. There are no vertical swings of his axe unless he is in the blood rage.
Berserker Blood Rage: When a man of the Berserker tribe ingests the Berserker drug, he falls into a trance like state. Their eyes narrow to the width of a pinhead and they get tunnel vision. They lose themselves to the blood rage and their strength almost triples, they become unstoppable juggernauts on the field of battle. Deadly wounds don't even slow them down, an arrow to the chest will stay in his chest until his body collapses from exhaustion. They clench their teeth so hard that their gums bleed, their internal temperature rises, their heart pumps dangerously fast. They are hot to the touch, steaming in the wintery winds of the north. The blood rage lasts a few hours and leaves all who take it unable to move for hours afterwards. Only the strongest actually survive the ordeal, leaving nothing but strong warriors in the Berserker Warband.
Personality:
The effects of the Berserker's Drug are degenerative and horrifying. The changes to a user's psyche can be so drastic that they can never be corrected. Feidlimid is one of the unfortunate souls who can never return to a normal life. The drug has stained his brain, his mind is tainted with the spillage of blood. Faces and names are lost to him forever, a life that he once knew is now a photograph soaked in blood. Unrecognizable and painful to think about. There is a woman who said she was once his wife, but her face and voice didn't stick with him for long. All that is left of Feidlimid is a husk, a hollow. A violent being with no purpose in life, beyond the slaughter and gore of the battlefield. In the rare moments where he is off the field of bloodshed he is reserved and silent, trying actively to keep his temper in check. He's prone to uncontrollable fits of violent rage,making him a detriment to those who would trust him.
Behind the monster lies the faintest echoes of a once great man, and sometimes he will make slight but noticeable actions that mirror that once great man.
He once, before the drug, held the gods in high regard. Worship daily, following their ideals to the letter. But now, he can't even remember what a god is. The halls of Valhalla once called to him, but now an echo of Hel rings his name.
Biography: Born to a mother who cheated on her husband with a traveler, he was left in the wild to die. As the cold began to clutch at his heart, a brawny soldier found the infant who had just let out his final helpless wail. Feidlimid was nursed back to health and raised into a great warrior. Even before he was introduced to the Berserker Drug he was a fierce warrior, at the age of 16 he was able to keep stride with the blood rage warriors. On the field of battle at the age of 20, after seven campaigns, he was offered the Berserker Drug. Four days later, he awoke in the enemy encampment. Not a soul was alive, and he was naked and blood soaked. As time wore on he began to take it compulsively, until the rage didn't even cause him to black out. He watched every second pass by in the blood rage, and still does to this day. Feidlimid slowly lost himself, everything that he had built up in his youth tore down as he waged war after war. Now, in his silver years he still battles like a youth, but his heart is deeply pained by what he has become.
