About Imperia Ulvauno
Imperia is a short woman with jet black hair, her body wrapped in corded muscle that twists under dirty green skin. Sharp teeth protrude from under her lips, giving her an underbite like an ugly dog. Short, rounded animalistic ears poking out from under her hair are cut through with piercings, and a leather eyepatch strapped diagonally across her head is marked in the center with the image of a sword plunged into a stone. Thick scarification runs down her neck, the edge of some much larger design. Surprisingly, she wears the red and black military uniform of a Molthuni soldier, a shortsword hanging at her hip.
Imperia cares about herself, pure and simple. A life of laboring under the ruling class, day after day, as a second class citizen among second class citizens has given her a purely selfish philosophical viewpoint. She has no morals beyond the ones she has right now, which are subject to change as soon as she feels they get in the way of her own pursuit of happiness. Beating people with her fists is something she's always been good at, and she likes imposing her power on others-- or crippling those who think they have power over others, depending on how much she cares or if she even does at all. To herself, Imperia is a mystery. She makes herself up as she goes along, and any sort of expectation of continuity with her acts of personality is laughable.
The only thing Imperia will never change her mind on? She can't help but want to help people who remind her of herself, or hate people who remind her of who she thinks were her parents. And Imperia hates orcs.
Picnic Basket Wearing:
Stunning Fist - 5 remaining out of 5
Non-Spoilered Resource Block
Imperia wouldn't know it, but she is the illegitimate daughter of a wealthy and well-known Imperial Citizen who discretely delivered her to an orphanage after her father's exceptionally hidden orcish heritage made itself offensively apparent in his first child. Her father and mother returned to their life of plenty, soon surrounding themselves with a brood of healthy human children. Imperia, in the meantime, bled and starved.
Imperia, so-named by the headmistress, grew up in an orphanage on the shore of Lake Encarthan among those who had lost their families to orcish incursions from the Hold of Belkzen or the Mindspin or the Menador. She was antagonized daily and discriminated against. She rose above it. Imperia refused to be weak; Pain is weakness leaving the body, she'd heard, and believed it. A four-on-one beating was just another name for a challenge. A night without food was another night of fasting. Blood was life. Even when a vicious beating from an orphan named Conwen permanently blinded her in one eye, she refused to let herself give up. She survived long enough to leave the orphanage, and thrived, which is more than the others could say. Imperia knows that she'd kill Conwen if she met him again-- if only he wasn't a year older, and had been forced to leave sooner than she.
Imperia worships Gorum, the Lord in Iron, because of a priest she met when she was a young adult. A half-orc in full-plate who identified himself as a Gorumite spent an entire night sequestered in a tavern with her, talking about his experiences as an adventurer and his personal belief in his god, Gorum. Finally, religion "clicked" for her. She was either brave, or a coward. Who she was in the moment was fleeting, and that to understand herself was to accept her history of violence and harness it to rise above the rabble. This half orc who converted her, Regent, introduced Imperia to a half-orc logging community owned by a conglomerate of nobles camped just outside Backar Forest. There, disguised as chopping wood, she was taught to wield a greataxe-- and at night, when the noble's guards were too busy drinking and carousing to watch serfs, a falchion, swords, farmer's weapons and throwing knives.
The half-orcs gave her an orc name-- Ahrm'thuuta, which meant "spear-like arms" in the language of Belkzen. They scarificated her body with a scrawling symbol when she begged to be given a marking to identify her as part of their people. The scar-mark that she wears, a large, stylized design that runs from her neck to beneath her breast, symbolizes a sacred bond between people. While Imperia's sacred tattoo has grown throughout the last four years, she's made care to not overwrite each orc rune that denotes a member of the ghetto she was close to, and when a fresh wound did, she simply placed it again as close as she could get. The people of the ghetto she belonged to were broken up by their masters and moved on, and while Imperia has seen some of them in her labors through Molthune, she sometimes wonders what has happened to Regent-- where he is now, and if his life of adventuring is doing him well. If they'll ever meet again, and what she would do if it was on a battlefield.
Since then, Imperia has been a laborer for the Imperial Citizens of Molthune. Years of back-breaking work has hardened her. She's been tempered by nights in the 'proletariat's arena,' an underground coliseum to entertain the rich citizens of Molthune. Gorum gave her fists and expected her to use them, and she does, every single day. When the call came out that one could become an Imperial Citizen by serving five years in the military, Imperia signed away her life as soon as she could argue her way to the front of the line. She doesn't care that they've put their boots down the laborer's throats, she doesn't care that the people of Nirmathas have a valid reason for seccession, and she doesn't care who she has to brutalize now to get where the Citizens are: Imperia walks tall with the knowledge that she is meant for greater things, and that Gorum has told her so.
Her sergeant gave her the nickname "Imp" on her first day, for her short stature, her ugly face and her pointed ears-- an insult, given her Chelish name. She wears the pejorative with pride, having proved him wrong and made no friends along the way.