Played by: Derek Jackson
Known Skills: cleric & warrior training
Birthplace: A tribal village in the woods near the Aldorian border.
Appearance: piercings facial hair
Notable Traits: lose cannon, piercings, short/broad, ferocious, womanizer and lover of mead
Bio: I was born in a village nestled deep into the forest. I was named Shank, Son of Baldor the High Shaman (Or as you would call it “Cleric”) of the Shadow Claw Tribe. My oldest memories are of a great journey across the sea, however faint imagery of beautiful forests and hordes of undead haunt me. Are these my memories or merely visions of the past? I was too young to know how my people could pay their way to the new world. My people set up a small farming village near the settlement of New Aldoria. My training began as soon as I was strong enough to swing a stick, much like the others of my age in the tribe my childhood was spent training with axe, sword and spear. When not fighting we were silently stalking the forest for any creature worth killing and devouring. However, as son of the High Shaman I could not play as the other youths. Any spare time was spent meditating, in a self-induced trance learning the secrets of the forest and of the physical and spiritual planes.
After eighteen winters the youths of our tribe are sent out as a party, they must spend several moons alone in the wilderness. Forging their own existence in the wild before proving themselves and returning to the village as men. With the blood of the Shaman I was afforded no such luxury, for I must endure the most harrowing of passages. Leaving the village alone, with nothing but my axe, and the skins on my back, I was to venture into the forest and not return until a union with one’s spirit guide. This occurs when you are confronted by a beast, and you must engage in mortal combat and once the beast has died and passed to the Spirit World you may then return to the village with the beast’s spirit guiding you. Initially, I had envy for my brothers, for they returned only after a few moons, confronted by the Fox and the Stag. I however, had to stalk the woods all winter awaiting my encounter, meditation and preparing myself for this great duel. It was a cold and dreary day almost a year after I left home when I met my fate. It was an unusually hard winter and food had been scarce, I was stalking a large deer when through either sheer luck or my hunting experience from my year living off the land I landed an arrow through both of it’s lungs. As I began to dress my quarry, I realized that I was not alone in this hunt. Through the blinding snow, the dusk reflected several sets of eyes from the nearby tree line. As the icy winds chilled my bones and the dense white snow pelted my body, one figure stepped from the shadows. It was then I realized what exactly what I was facing. My time had come, as the leader of what I now realized to be a pack of wolves approached me. He stepped, slowly, deliberately towards me, even in the falling darkness his black coat still shone, his shoulders as broad as my own and his fangs as sharp as my axe. Yet as he approached, he did not growl, his ears were erect and he showed no malice. He ceased his approach within 15 feet of me, and as his final foot fell we became locked in a stare, almost as if holding a conversation with our spirits. He then laid his head back as he let out a bloodcurdling howl, and it was with that our duel began.
I awoke some time later, the night must had passed as it was now well into the morning, my body tattered and beaten. I strain to roll my head to the side. Did he retreat? Had I died in glorious battle and pass over to awaken in the other realm? As I finally mustered the strength my eyes fell upon the frozen corpse of my adversary. His body as mangled as my own, but for the exception of the shattered remnants of my axe head lodged in his skull. I passed in and out of consciousness to awaken the next dawn. I had regained enough strength to hobble over to the nearest Oak, which was my favorite tree to meditate beneath. As I fell into the trance I once again met the wolf, but not my adversary as before. Now, he was my ally, my guide. We conversed for many hours as I harvested his knowledge, however it was coming time to return to the village.
I longed for the celebration of my return, to feast once again in the great hall in the company of my family and tribe. But most of all, I longed for the warm embrace, of Suiteki of whom I was to marry after completion of my journey. She had regularly snuck out to embrace me on the beds of the sacred river, however days had passed after my combat with the great beast and to gaze into her green eyes was my only true wish. The spirit agreed to guide me back to what I had known as home, but I was warned not to expect any welcoming or familiar faces. Proudly, I navigated through the forest, crossing streams and climbing bluffs. I finally came within sight of my home, however there was not the sound of drums or smoke of fires as I had anticipated. The nearer that drew the stronger the stench of death haunted my nostrils. As my tribesmen, my brethren lay slain and mangled across the land. I could not tell if any were still alive, if they were they no longer were in the village. I had seen this kind of carnage once before in my life, and the elders had been highly disturbed by that incident. A high council was held and it was found that Mordok had been the assailant. Frantically I searched, for the one who would have been my salvation, had she lived I would not have been driven into the self-destructive actions I was about to pursue. I found the remains of my beloved Suiteki, mangled beneath the remains of what had been our hut. Her hands still clutching the necklace I had given her before I left, that was imbued with protective energies. From what I could tell she had at least died quickly; the spirits had done their job, as she had not suffered nearly the fate of my tribesmen that had fell.
At that moment I was filled with a blood craving rage, the wolf and I were now one. I let out the same howl the wolf had given before our battle. It was the howl of war. Grabbing every weapon I could reasonably carry I began on a new mission. To stalk and slay Mordok, in the same fashion they had slain my tribesmen and my sweet Suiteki. Until none of the retched beasts remained. It had not been more than a day since this slaughter had occurred, I hunted swiftly and it would not be long before I cornered my quarry to whatever violent end may come. To my surprise I had caught up to my quarry unusually close to where the Elders had spoken of a settlement, the Mordok had intentions of slaughtering whatever group of people that lived there. I had only saw one of them, likely scouting ahead for a much larger raiding party. I knew they were not to be trifled with but I had nothing to hold me to this world. I was ready to pass on to the spirit world and rejoin my kin, and my love from the concealment of the brush I threw my axe, crippling the knee of the Mordok, and with that the requiem had begun and I raised my sword charging in a glorious blood rage. The battle was blow for blow, I growled and screamed the chants of war as our blood stained the white snow around us and the echoes of this great fight rattled through the forest. Crippled and bleeding out I finally landed a great blow, severing his arm as I narrowly dodged a swing that would have surely beheaded me. Yet he charged, attempting to bludgeon me to death with the one remaining fist, as I deflected with my offhand my bone shattered and he sunk his teeth into my flesh. My sword dropped from the impact, I was left to slowly bash his skull in with my fist, all whilst his teeth were ravaging my other arm. I awoke in an unfamiliar bed next to a warm fire; with two green hooded and armor clad men standing over me. They must have found me dying and rescued me. Denying me my wish to pass over, nonetheless this was an honorable act. Little did I know that they would become my new tribe, however my Suiteki would never be replaced.
Relationships: Puckerman, Tobias, The Rangers