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ID: 5143


June 30, 2008, 11:14 pm

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Cheka Man

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Lord Hrothgar


"Did a BEAR just jump out of that mans backpack?!?"
"Yes sir, I believe it did."

Hrothgar is a boulder of a man, clad in worn but well kept scale armor. He has what at first blush appears to be a rather large brick attached to a short rod at his side, in actuality it is an unwieldy looking hammer. A large, filthy blond beard covers a large portion of his face, the rest being taken up by his almost static grin and glittering eyes. He looks ready to either buy you a drink or try to kick you through a wall, you’re not really sure which.

Kicked out from a Barbarian tribe in the North, Hrothgar woke up stranded on the shores of Southern Nevermore with a bad hangover, a disturbing lack of ale and not much else. Setting off in a quest for ale and glory (but mostly ale), he came upon the dying town of Greywall. Fortunately, it had a pub.
Deciding that it would henceforth be his base of operations, Hrothgar began a bit of a tradition: every time he returned from his adventures, he would proceed to buy drinks for everyone in the bar until he ran out of money, at which point he would head off adventuring again. A few things developed from this: firstly, the large influx of money allowed the pub to increase in scale, eventually becoming a rather well established Inn. It began be renowned enough that travelers would make a point of stopping over, bringing yet more money into the town. In only a few short years, the town was prospering and growing. Hrothgar had even been able to draw some other barbarians down from the North, all too happy to have the extra company. He had also managed to free some enormous white wolves from some giants, the animals thereafter took a shine to Hrothgar and also stayed with him. Things looked good, and the next big improvement happened when Hrothgar, fresh back from his latest adventure, tried to use a highly unpredictable magic item he had found. Such items had been documented to be able to do such things as steal a mans soul, or deprive him of all his worldly possessions. Hrothgar, however, had slightly better luck. He got a castle.
In one day, the town suddenly went from being a few buildings that happened to be close together in the middle of nowhere to being a (albeit very small) castle town. Hrothgar figured that since it was his castle, he was now the proper Lord of Greywall. Considering all he had done for them, nobody really felt the need to object.
Nobody that is, except the true Lord of Greywall. Having made a point of living abroad, the young fop had wanted nothing to do with the little town until it seemed that he was in danger of losing his title. With a small army, he waited until Hrothgar was off on an adventure and then struck, driving the numerically inferior barbarians into the nearby woods.
Upon Hrothgar’s return, he found himself being chased from his own home. After finding his men, he lead them in a focused strike on the castle, which ultimately drove out the wayward Lord and returned control of the town to Hrothgar.
He has since begun taking his role as Lord much more seriously, training his Barbarians and setting up patrols along the nearby roads. He honestly means well, but running a town is so far outside his realm of experience that he occasionally makes mistakes. Anytime this happens, he does his best to correct it by whatever means necessary.

Special Equipment
During his travels, Hrothgar came upon two very significant things: his Hammer and his Bear. His hammer holds impressive enchantments, including the ability to return when thrown and the ability to emit the deafening roar of thunder, as well as many enchantments designed to turn the weapon into the bane of giants. The hammer is named Stormspinner.
Hrothgar found his pet cave bear when it was only a cub. Naming it Mingar, he took to keeping it in his enchanted backpack. Though Mingar grew, the backpack always weighed the same and never needed to stretch or bulge to accommodate it. Now, Mingar is nine feet from head to tail, and still sleeps in Hrothgar’s backpack when not otherwise occupied. The pair have also found this to be an effective means of carrying a bear while being subtle and also as a secret weapon.

Roleplaying Notes
Hrothgar is a warrior first and foremost. Though he gladly shoulders the burden of running a town, it is a bizarre experience for him. He would much rather be running around with Mingar fighting monsters. Though he means well, Hrothgar is not exceptionally smart. In fact, he is rather dim. He tends to get caught up in cyclical thinking which is made even stranger to behold by the fact that he is seemingly incapable of thinking without talking. He once stepped through a portal that was halfway through a tree and saw a large monster on the other side. He proceeded to stand there for a good long time and try to reason it out;
"So Hrothgar went in to tree. But monster is inside tree, and monster is BIGGER than tree, so… Tree must be inside Monster! But wait, Hrothgar is inside tree. But if Hrothgar is inside tree, then Hrothgar is inside monster! But Hrothgar didn’t go into any Monster!"
He kept at this for a while. This is typical of Hrothgar.
He is loud, He won’t touch first-person with a ten foot pole, and he is always completely gung-ho about everything.
With only a few exceptions, he also assumes people are good unless they show themselves to be otherwise. The most notable exception is Mages (Anyone who casts magic or is a man and wears a robe) who happens to live in a tower. It takes a titanic amount of convincing to get Hrothgar to believe that a Mage living in a Tower isn’t evil to his core. At best, Hrothgar will mistrust them.

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Comments ( 6 )
Commenters gain extra XP from Author votes.

Voted Cheka Man
July 1, 2008, 10:38
He reminds me of Thor. And the theif who stole his backpack would be in for a nasty shock.
Voted MoonHunter
July 1, 2008, 16:39
I am amused.

It is just strange enough of a classically fantasy to have that fresheness to it. In some ways, it pains me. In other ways, it is a fun character.
Voted valadaar
July 1, 2008, 19:19
I like him! Had a similar character, though as a berseker, he was the bear..
Voted Golanthius
July 2, 2008, 13:52
Reminds me of Haggar the Horrible. I like this character. The bear in the backpack is a bit strange, but I am intrigued by the idea (what else can I put in this backpack?).
July 2, 2008, 14:02
The bear in the backpack is a bit strange, but then so is the whole character. Strangeness really seems to be his strong point, actually. He's an ambulatory boulder of muscle and goodwill with the brains of an addled child who just so happens to be the lord of a town. He can be predictably unpredictable.
July 12, 2008, 9:35
Nice and ingenious idea.


Random Idea Seed View All Idea Seeds

Wet Faeries

       By: Murometz

Sages and naturalists frown at the common name given to these strange creatures by the small folk, but sometimes the silliest nicknames for creatures, places and people persevere in the minds of many. “Purifiers”, “Pond Jellies”, “Breath-Stealers”, “Lung-Ticklers” and “River Butterflies” are much less commonly heard appellations for these life forms. Wet Faeries are basically (and simply) a species of fist-sized, fresh-water jellyfish. Several traits steer them toward the peculiar category however. Firstly, Wet Faeries are nearly invisible in the water, much like their marine cousins but even more so. One can swim in a river swarming with these critters and not even notice their presence. Secondly, they possess the unique ability to clean and purify whatever body of water they inhabit. They do this via some sort of biological filtration process, sucking in all toxins present in the water, and releasing it back in its purest form. Needless to say, they are both a blessing and a curse to whichever folk dwell beside the rivers and lakes Wet Faeries inhabit. On one hand, no purer water can be found anywhere than a Wet Faerie lake or pond, and yet, in “pure” water “life” tends in fact to die out, lacking the needed nutrients to prosper. Thirdly, their “sting” is (unfortunately) virulently poisonous to all mammalians. Wet Faeries are loathe to sting anyone or anything, using their barbed fronds as a last line of defense, but if stung, most swimmers will suffer respiratory arrest, and die within minutes, usually drowning before they can make it back to shore.

Alchemists, druids, and less savory characters have studied these creatures over the years, and have predictably found all the ways Wet Faeries could be exploited. Morbidly humorous, some bards find it, that the Poisoners and Assassins Guilds as well as the Healer’s Union, all prize these creatures. The assassins use the extracted venom in obvious fashion, while the priests and healers use the still-living jelly-fish to sterilize other poison potions and to cure those already poisoned on death’s door.

It is known that a certain Earl Von Trumble keeps his vast castle moat stocked with Wet Faeries, the waters so clear that every bone of every one of his past enemies can be clearly seen on the bottom, twenty two feet below.

Encounter  ( Any ) | June 20, 2014 | View | UpVote 3xp

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