A wizard born of an aristocratic family, but adopted barbarian ways.
Tall, slender man with dark brown hair, a goatee, and green eyes. Depending on what he chooses to wear, his arms are either concealed beneath comfortable robes, or are bare – exposing tribal tattoos of many shapes and designs. Similarly, when he is in “civilization” he often dresses as a sage/wizard but in the wilderness is more than likely to dress as a barbarian might. He does not have facial tattoos – but will often wear ritual warpaint depending on the season/need/whatever.
D&D 4 Statblock Summary
(from Wizards of the Coast’s Character Builder software)
Think “Dances with Wolves” Kevin Costner character as a Wizard instead of a Cavalry Officer… he’s “gone native.”
Aikarus’ family are minor nobles. The estate he grew up on; Falconhome, afforded the young man a lifestyle of luxury and ease. Thirsting for knowledge and power, the young man delved into the study of the Arcane arts. The elemental forces appealed to him – the simplicity of the primal – in a way that the complex world of the political elite of his homeland never could. When he was old enough, he sojourned into the wilderness to learn more practical knowledge and gain real-world insight to those forces. The young fool left home with some money, a few days of food (fresh fruits and meats taken from the table and unfit for long storage), a spellbook, and a set of stout summer clothing.
To say that this bookish, urban, arrogant, naive teen was ill prepared to go alone into the frontier would be an understatement. Luck and a curious barbarian intervened to save Aikarus from a most ignominious death at the hands of roving monsters. The barbarian noted a gaunt, starving, lone “city dweller” fighting off creatures with Arcane magic. Content to simply observe at first, when the youth fell the barbarian stepped in to dispatch the monsters and rescue the young spellcaster.
Aikarus was nursed back to health among the barbarian’s people. His even rudimentary understanding of the Arcane arts made him extremely useful to the village shaman. There was difficulty adjusting to a new culture, new language, and new way of life but the young wizard found something in the wilderness he had never known… peace. Simple people, nature, and an existence surrounded by that which is wild and primal suited him very well. Never had he seen lightning as powerful as a spring storm from beneath nothing more sturdy than a tent flap. Never had he understood the basic lure of fire as when it alone was the way to beat back the winter cold and night. Never was the wind more pure and majestic as when it raced and sung across the tall summer grasses. Never had simple soil meant more to him as when he ate the very crops he helped raise during an autumn feast.
In the village he grew from boy to man. Amongst these simple people he first knew true love and soul-rending sorrow. He fell in love with a girl, her name translated to “Mountain Blossom.” When he had become a man in the eyes of his new people via rites of passage – he was married and in time became a father. But a lifetime of bliss and simplicity was not in his future. Fate conspired with dark forces to stir up the creatures of the frontier.
Monsters, beasts, hunts, and tribal raids were a part of life… but they had grown steadily worse as the seasons wore on. Darkness encroached and the small point of light that was his home life was put out. Ultimately there’s no need to debate who failed to watch what mountain pass or who was sleeping on the watch. It does not change the end result to point fingers. It is sufficient to say that many of the tribe were slaughtered before the last of the creatures were slain. The young medicine man in training was robbed of wife and child. The peaceful future he had hoped for lay crushed and bleeding at his feet.
In time, when his mourning was done and his heart hardened again, he left the village. The village contained too many memories and he needed time to sort out his head. He returned to the family of his birth who had long thought him dead and lost to them. He spent months adjusting to his old life again trying to find some kind of balance between both parts of his personality. But to sit still was not in his destiny… there was something wrong with the world. A sickness was now present that did not exist in his boyhood; he would find it and cure it… or cut out the rancid flesh so the rest could heal.
Maybe, just maybe, along the way he would rediscover the balance that he had lost.