| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Proudstar (Warpath)
So called civilized cultures call them savages, brutes, feral folk. Members within a tribe simply refer to each other as… family. Among these nomadic peoples, grand warriors are claimed to father many sons and daughters, but a shaman is said to be mother of an entire clan. Chieftain Red Hawk, storied for felling an immense demon bear, fathered two sons, Thunderbird, first born and so named for a mystical bird that brings thunder upon the flaps of its wings, and Proudstar, second born on a night that a single star glowed so brightly as to envelope all light from the night sky, and a single daughter, White Swan, the youngest and pure of heart and elegant in form. As with all children born to the tribe, they are blessed and given name and meaning by the Great Mother, Umar. Umar saw the boys to be great hunters of their father’s stock, but claimed White Swan among her daughters to be trained in the arts of medicinal herbs, prophecy, and summoning beasts to aid in times of need. Red Hawk even witnessed the Great Mother transform into an animal to fight alongside the warriors in a time of great peril.
From their youth, Proudstar idolized his elder brother, but did not understand his reasoning for leaving the clan to pursue a life among a nearby towns militia. After three changing of the seasons, Thunderbird had gone nearly two lunar cycles without word of his safety. Proudstar grew weary of waiting and left the clan to investigate his brother’s disappearance. As he neared the town, he overheard men dressed in a garb similar to that of his brother and a stranger cloaked in black and red. The uniformed men talked of a primitive that had been among their ranks and thanked the stranger for ridding them of that pest. Thunderbird had always been capable of besting two, even three men. This new stranger must not have acted alone. With every trick he had learned of hunting, he stalked his prey. First he would deal with the men in uniform. There were only two and easily distracted. A twig snapped in the distance and one man left to investigate. Upon his return, he found Proudstar slicing the neck of the other guard, who was hanging upside down from a snare trap. The sight before the guard was completely foreign. Proudstar lunged forward penetrating the man’s leather armor, piercing his blade into the heart. Proudstar was no more, for now he was on the Warpath.
In the months to follow, Warpath became known for eluding the local guard’s attempts to capture him. They cursed him and proclaimed him Berserker for the ferocity in which he attacked and the gruesomeness that he slaughtered the soldiers. Warpath wore this brand as a badge of honor. Returning to the clan, he found most of them dead. Men atop horses had been here and five left westward dragging a woman. Two of the men lay dead among his tribe; the tents set ablaze; a foul scent in the air. All but one that he ever held dear now joined the great hunt. These capturers made no distinction between man, woman or child. Warpath gutted the foreigners, cutting out their eyes, ears, and tongue. They shall enter their afterlife, blind, deaf, and mute. They shall wander forever in darkness. Warpath sniffed the ground and followed the trail West. A clearing had proven a provisional encampment and the one they had captured, raped and tortured was Warpath’s younger sister, White Swan. Warpath arrived as one of the men was defiling her body. She managed to free the man’s dagger and stick him, before slitting her own throat. Determined to retrieve his sister’s body, Warpath walked into the camp. His state of mind at that point was unknown, as he killed every mercenary present. One among them, hidden by a cloak, wore the uniform of a captain. By the markings, this had been the man directly over his brother Thunderbird. Warpath had mutilated the bodies of the unknown men in his rage, but took time to fashion a burning stake, and strapped the unconscious officer high on the pole. Warpath roused the man, before lighting the pyre. His screams filled the night air. Warpath witnessed the man’s last breathe as the lung burst into flames from sucking in hot air.
Among the officer’s belongings was a warrant with Proudstar’s image upon it. Proudstar died somewhere in the carnage; only the Warpath remained. Knowing he would never find rest among these lands of Numeria, he rode east, across the Southern border of Brevoy. Skirting the Stolen Lands, Warpath arrived at the outskirts of a large city. Merchants in and out call it Restov. Rumors bustle of a band of adventurers clearing the bandit threat in the Stolen Lands. Surely among these peoples, he may find atonement for his bestial actions. Surrounded by nature while chasing a noble cause, just maybe one day this tormented man can lay down the Warpath and take up his mantle as Proudstar once more.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
I like it. Sounds like a great opportunity for future character development. Seems we have similar lines of thought as my current character has a similarly conflicted backstory.
The Story resumes at Kingmaker Adventure Log.
The story continues at Kingmaker Adventure Log.
The story is not dead, just been moved! Kingmaker Adventure Log!!! After a long break, we are back and hopefully resuming our 2 week schedule. If no ones interested, I'll stop posting. If you are, please let me know that you want more.