Plains man. Chip on his shoulder


Military trained. Dual knives, bow/arrow, parry average, toughness high…


You think growing up and learning the ways of the eld’ would be easy. Hunt, gather, honor. The hunt came easy as a child and even to manhood for both my life brother (Lan) and me. Competitive will always be our common bond. No way can we ever be enemies. “But never say never” my Father would say “because honor is fickle and hunting/killing is my way…that is a recipe for trouble. Judge yourself true watch which way you hold your knives”. Never knew what that meant. This is one of the last things my father said before he was struck by winged beast in the temple by the rivers. Our village held honor day in his name for his glorious death. But I held no such joy. I saw red. Disdain. Hate for the winged creature. I only know that glamour and magics could take my father for he was the best hunter. Vengeance is sweet. Vengeance is warm. Vengeance does not end until quenched. I only hope that Vengeance doesn’t take me.


Inner Earth eskimogamed