Name: Hargraw Mors
Self-styled: Giantsblood, The Spotted, Legendbane, Brazen Beast, The Longspear
Race: Half-Human and Half-Giant (purportedly)
Weight: 215 lbs
The self-styled 'Breaker of Bones' and 'Slayer of Dragons' is at first glance an imposing figure. The man stands at an impressive height, and has a stocky build to boot. The man oft compares himself to an ox, and for good reason, as he has a fairly massive amount of musculature. His body's far from sculpted, as no one would find any abdominal muscles on that belly of his, but he doesn't need it to be. He was a born with the body of a warrior.
His menacing appearance is only further enforced by his clothing. He's covered in a large variety of animal pelts that he's collected himself. Boots made from the leather of boar and furs of badger. Britches consisting of lynx coats and stag hides. Gloves made from the fur of wolf and fox, and of course, his signature hooded tunic made from the pelt of his first kill, the spotted mountain cat Kraig. His overall fashion choices result in his clothes being a mismatch of grey, white, tan, and black streaked and spotted furs. It's hard to find one where pelt ends and another begins. Since the time they were first sewed, there's been little repairs, resulting in much of it having become frayed and grayed. There are coats of red splashed in with the attire too- but those aren't from the pelts themselves.
His visage itself gives one the final clue that he is thoroughly a warrior (if one hadn't gotten this already). Half of his rectangular face is obscured by a bright red bushy beard, matching the color of the unruly patch of hair on his head. What one can see of his face is a surprisingly aquiline nose, caught in the middle of two hard, dark-green eyes. While his skin is usually fair, almost pale white, one will often find it all covered in dirt and grime. The man seldom washes (only when he starts killing enemies with his stench instead of his blade), which rounds his whole appearance off with a generally filthy look.
- A small pouch strung to his belt for holding various trinkets and other things of trade.
- A small bone blade, used for slicing meat, eating, picking his teeth, and every other versatile action one can take with a knife.
- A short curved falchion-like sword, affectionately named 'The Maker of Corpses' and 'The Steel Priest' (because, as he puts it, the weapon helps people 'get closer to their Gods')
Powers or Strengths:
- Brawler: Hargraw had a knack for fighting since he was young, so if anyone thinks that knocking his sword out of his hand will render him helpless, they better think again. The man has killed people with things softer than his fists....so with his fists, imagine what he could do. Far from any kind of martial discipline, the man's fighting style is simply that of a brute, and will use his superior strength and size in his favor to win the day. He takes pride in the fact that he is larger, and stronger, than most men.
- Strongarm: And god forbid anyone allows Hargraw to draw Corpse-Maker. Similar to his hand-to-hand combat, the man is a berserker when it comes to using his blade in combat, which goes well with his strength. His wild frenzied swings and relentless onslaught will quickly overwhelm those not prepared for the man. When met with skilled swordsman however, the barbarian might find himself sorely outmatched.
- Persevering: No matter what the odds, the obstacle, or the daunting task ahead, Hargraw keeps on trucking. Once he sets his mind to something, he sticks it out to the end. He says he'll do something, ohoho, he'll do it. Or die trying. Which has obviously gotten him into many a dangerous situation. If it wasn't due to sheer luck sometimes, he might have met his end long ago. It also exacerbates his perception of himself. He'll continually try to achieve his goal, to prove to himself that he really is the greatest around.
- Dull: A bit ignorant, a bit slow, and a bit stupid, Hargraw isn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. While not a severe condition, it can take awhile for the man to learn new things, struggle with learning local etiquette and figure out a scenario happening around him. Very culturally ignorant as well. As one of his shortcomings, and few weaknesses (okay Hargraw, sure), he becomes very angered when someone insults him on it. In fact, he takes most insults to his person very seriously.
- Hubris: Hargraw is a tall-talker, a man quite full of himself, and borderline narcissist. Born the best in his native band, the dude has come to realize that he is the best warrior around. Goes into most duels recklessly (explaining his fighting style) and rarely believes that any one could best him. One day his arrogance will be his downfall, and when it does, he might not be able to recover from it. This also leads to vastly overestimating his abilities. His delusions of grandeur led to the extinction of Clan Strongborn, and his greatest injury to date. The injury done to his psychoses now that he has tasted defeat.
- Left Hand: In his younger days, Hargraw thought he was the best there was (...wait, that sounds familiar). His vain self-image led him to get in over his head on a outing one day with his tribe, and he was almost eaten by the creature they were hunting. While he still killed it, his left hand was mangled, and never quite healed right. He still can't fully close it to date. After it was all said and done though, he does get to say he killed a dragon...single-handedly (...get it?! Single-HANDedly?!...although Hargraw's tribe never exactly saw a dragon before. Was it really a dragon? Some unknown reptilian predator not seen by the savages before? Who knows). If someone mentions it however, he'll become very irate. It's a reminder of one of his few mistakes, one of the times he wasn't all that he thought, and hates people bringing this fact back to bare.
- Manipulative: As in, he's easy to manipulate. His desire to be the best, to feed his superego and id, to find someone worthy of fighting. Once someone notices his simple-minded objective in life and how he's not exactly the brightest bulb, they could use his skills for their own means. He thrives for superficial praise from people, the sort that a young child would probably be able to see through, as deep inside, somewhere past his overflowing reserves of bravery and courage, the man fears one thing. That he's actually nothing.
Hargraw Mors was born to an Eyropean mountain clan that called themselves the Strongborn, who lived up in the mountains of Apthoni. From the day he was born, the elders of the clan were able to recognize that the boy was something special. He was large, one of the largest children sired they had ever seen, and it was quickly recognized that he would be a great hunter, something of legend. He was bigger than the others, stronger than the others, and most of all, had an iron will, an indomitable spirit that made the man relentless when he sought to achieve a goal. From the very beginning, he demonstrated this physical superiority over the others, often beating the other boys with sticks, being the first to get dinner among those his own age, and generally being an all-around asshole. It was during this time with his clan that he first learned to hunt the goats and game of the mountains, how to skin animals, tan their leather, and how to survive with nothing except the skin on his back and the breeze between his knees. On his very first hunt at the age of eight, his specialness was proven, as he killed a mountain cat that had been plaguing the clan for decades, practically a demon in their folklore at this point. This led to Hargraw's uncontested recognition for greatness, and his quick ascension to clan-leader at the age of seventeen.
At a generally young age however, the boy who had already come to call himself 'Giantsblood' was not sated with his clan's 'meager' existence. He kept seeking out more and more dangerous game, creatures, and monsters, practically anything that could be a proper testament to his legacy and add to the legend of Mors. This led to the hunts (and deaths) of such legendary creatures as: Mog of Midnight, a leopard as black as tar. Rayal, the King of Beasts, which led a pack of thirty other wolves and had lived past countless generations. And of course, Megalania, a legendary dragon that lived in the forbidden valley of Goanna. Some of these legendary creatures killed were as old as the Strongborn clan itself, and were considered guardians of their people, spirits that did not take life unwarranted. But Hargraw desired a challenge, a worthy hunt, so they followed him, and slayed them, allowing the man to take the title 'Legendbane', despite the loss of their cultural roots.
Still, these legendary creatures did not sate his lust for glory. So Hargraw went to war with the nearby clans that had always lived beside them in peace, seeking glory in war. Since the Strongborn were one of the most skilled clans in hunt, and attacked the others out of the blue, unprovoked in the middle of the night, many in the mountain range were slaughtered. Those that survived the malicious attacks were taken as thralls of Strongborn, forced into labor, and Hargraw's mountain clan grew in this regard. Eventually, the last neighboring clans of the Strongborn in the Apthoni mountain range left remaining banded together to strike down this common threat. But by then, it was already too late. They were defeated after a series pitched battles in the dales of Alp, and after the last foes of Hargraw were cut down, he proclaimed himself King of the Mountains and the Dales.
But this title and new found glory was still not enough. He was destined for greater things than living out a simple life among rocks and goats. He knew it, the rest knew it, and soon, the world would know it as well. Hargraw led the mountain clans under his fist down the slopes of their homes, and on their first raid of the flat lands in over two hundred years. He sacked the nearby town of Keir in a brutal attack, and was able to take it after an entire day of fighting in its streets. Soon after hearing of his victory, the state of Teutonia responded with overwhelming force. From Poznan they marched, and when they reached Keir, there was not mountain man that could stop their advance.
Hargraw had been 'King in the Mountains and Dales' for one month, and at the end of it, had lost his army, his clan, and most importantly, his pride. He escaped from the massacre, though not of his own volition. He would have gladly been cut down then and there, had not one of his most devout followers rendered him unconscious and dragged him away from the fighting. Upon waking up and learning of this, he killed the clan member in a black rage. He was Hargraw Mors. He did not run from battle. He immediately set back forth for Poznan, to challenge the curs who thought they had bested the greatest warrior in the mountains. Travelling down its roads alone, he was eventually noticed by a well-known slaver, just one of many who had heard of the mountain savages that attacked Keir. Clearly seeing that Hargraw was one of them, he had the man captured, though losing three men in the process. No matter he thought however, as he could easily make the losses back in the fighting pits of Hellas. He had originally wanted to enslave Hargraw for his novelty as a moutain clanman, sell him to a Teutonian who lost a family member or wanted to see one of the barbarians who had thought to invade their lands. But the slaver now realized that the item he had was a hot commodity, worth more than he thought.
Under chain and lock, Hargraw was forced to fight in the games of the nobles, in Hellas' 'Arena of Warriors'. There in the fighting pits, he made a name for himself, earning considerable applaud and reputation for his prowess in battle and victories, and earning the slaver a considerable amount of wealth. Though their cheers soothed his injured ego, Hargraw still would not have the rest of his life spent in chains. As luck would have it, Hargraw would be given a chance for freedom. The slaver who owned the the barbarian (now known as the 'Brazen Beast') gave him an offer after his amazing years in service in a drunken stupor. If Hargraw won his 100th battle, and went through the Gauntlet of Gore, the slaver would release Hargraw from his bonds. Of course Hargraw accepted right away, how could he not? He took any challenge offered him, and was ready to strike off his chains once and for all. Little did he know that the Gauntlet of Gore was a form of public execution in Hellas, just made more entertaining. Dozens of creatures loosed onto the field, grand fires lit to form a maze inside it, spikes and pitfalls scattered throughout. If the 'Brazen Beast' took it, the show would bring in thousands to the pits, and thousands of bishan into the slaver's pockets.
Lo and behold, Hargraw killed every single living thing in the arena that day, and thousands of men cheered his name. "BEAST!"
The slaver was bewildered. With the amount of money he made, he buy the pits if he wanted. He also assumed he would finally be rid of the savage. Now he found that he might be forced to uphold his end of the bargain. When he told Hargraw he still had to kill his hundredth man for freedom (as the slaver took his oaths religiously, and decided he would sell the beast instead of seeing him freed), the barbarian replied he was about to. He had taken a fang from one of the felled beasts from the Gauntlet, and hid it from his handlers when they took his weapons. He stabbed the slaver to death with it, took his keys, freed himself, and escaped from the Arena without any other incident (not forgetting to take his weapon with him).
Hargraw now roams Eyropa free, though what he's searching for, he knows not. He only travels west with the loose notion that he'll bring ruin on the men who brought down his rule, hoping to come across some army or order who can grant this wish for him. Where his travels exactly take him however, is another story.
...and I'm guessing you're still wondering about his last title. 'LongSpear'. The dude doesn't even use a spear. What gives?
...You know what gives.