Vikingr

Alric

The hero of our saga.

Alric

Description

WS BS S T Ag Int Per WP Fel Fame
51 36 53 52 48 41 44 43 38 05

Wounds: 12/12 Fatigue: 0 Fate Points: 1

Skills: Athletics (Str) +10, Awareness (Per), Charm (Fel), Commerce (Int), Lore (Limshof) (Int), Deceive (Fel), Dodge (Ag), Inquiry (Int), Intimidate (WP) +20, Linguistics (Reikspiel) (Int), Healing (Int), Navigation (Int) +10, Operate (Horse) (Ag) +10, Parry (WS) +10, Scrutiny (Int) +10, Survival (Per) +30, Trade (Scrimshawing) (Int) +30

Talents: Ambidextrous, Berserk Charge, Bulging Biceps, Combat Master, Counter Attack, Crushing Blow, Decadence, Die Hard, Disarm, Furious Assault, Hardy, Iron Jaw, Melee Weapon Training (All but Exotic), Shield Use, Sprint, Sure Strike, Takedown, True Grit, Two-Weapon Wielder, Unarmed Warrior, Unshakable Will

Traits: Unnatural Weapon Skill (+1), Heightened Senses (Smell), Resistance (Cold, Fear)

Warrior Instincts: In combat, our hero’s body reacts with blinding speed before his mind even comprehends what is happening. In game terms, he has Unnatural Weapon Skill (+1) and may parry a number of times equal to half his WSB rounded up. However, parrying still requires a reaction, so Alric may only use this if he has at least one remaining reaction.

Bio

Standing approximately 2 meters tall and weighing around 100 kilograms our hero cuts an imposing figure. Thick, messy, copper hair hangs around his stern face, not quite managing to hide his piercing blue eyes. His pale body is wrapped in muscle, tattoos, and scars; every inch betrays a lifetime of fighting.

This lifetime, however, is lost to him. His earliest memory is a painful awakening in a cottage in Limshof, his form wrapped in bandages and dressings. The language of the runic tattoos that wind around his body bear no significance to him, though occasionally a spark of familiarity will burn through a dark corner of his mind if he stares long enough. His name: forgotten, his past: forgotten, though he can perform a myriad of actions with remarkable skill he knows not how he learned to do such things. The only clue he has is a small silver coin bearing the likeness of some barbarian king worn on a leather chord around his neck.

This is how our saga begins, a lost man in an unfamiliar world, the cold northern night howling outside…