About Jens VarmodssonJens Varmodsson
-------------------- Alfsígr
Backstory: Born in 4665 to horse breeders in the Lands of the Linnorm Kings, Jens grew up knowing the value of physical might and hard work, and took to the saddle almost as soon as he could walk. All Ulfen boys learn how to swing a sword or an axe at an early age, but Jens found the swings easier and more natural in the saddle than on foot. He also took to helping his father with the horses, and when he was five, he first witnessed the miraculous birth of a foal – a colt, who was quickly named Cobalt for his rich coat. The boy and the foal were soon close friends. When Jens was six, he was attacked by a quasit. The demon’s claws were weak, but the poison they left was a different matter. His developing body wasn’t able to fight it off, and he surely would have perished, had Cobalt not raised a terrible racket of distressed snorts and whinnies that brought Jens’ father running. The quasit met a swift end at the tines of a pitchfork, and a healer was quickly summoned for the boy. Jens made a slow but sure recovery, and from that day forth, he and Cobalt were truly inseparable – the horse was one of few things he took with him when he left home at sixteen. Ulfen mercenaries and bodyguards are highly desired for their intimidating appearance, which Jens had in spades – reaching a towering height, and sporting a wild mane and beard of wiry golden hair. The lifestyle suited him well enough, too – he travelled across the Inner Sea region, fighting for coin, more often than not from horseback. He learned how to wield a lance properly, and how to fight tactically, as opposed to sheer force. He learned how to use his shield as a weapon, an extension of his arm, and how to shrug off blows that would kill a lesser man. Cobalt was a fierce mount, growing into a shaggy, heavy beast, and an able combatant in his own right. After several years of stints in various militias and mercenary bands, Jens found his wanderlust fading. But Desna smiled, for she sent one of her worshippers to him – a beautiful Varisian bard, who was in the last mercenary troupe Jens joined. Deselde. Her mind was as quick as her body, and, by an amazing stroke of luck, she found him as irresistible as he did her. After a brief and beautiful courtship, the two were married, settling down where their last contract ended – just within the borders of Mendev. Jens purchased a breeding mare, and took to raising horses, like his parents. He and Deselde had two children – a daughter, Sólveig; and a son, Zuristren, both beautiful as their mother, but hale and hardy as their father. But good things seldom last forever. In 4692, the family of four travelled to Kenabres with the plan of selling some horses to the Crusaders – possibly staying on for Armasse, if the coin was good enough. Jens knew how to talk up his animals (and fine animals they were, too), and Deselde knew how to handle the customers. The plan couldn’t have gone smoother. Until, that is, the Storm King, Khorramzadeh, attacked Kenabres. The earth trembled beneath his feet, and his whip felled buildings and people alike. Demons swarmed the city before being driven back by the Crusaders. Jens bellowed over the roar of what felt like an apocalypse for his family to stay close, but it was to no avail – he was stabbed in the side by a Babau, falling victim to its slime soon after. When he awoke, the dead were already being buried. Among them, Deselde. A broken man, he retrieved her kapenia, her family scarf, and began searching through the bodies for Sólveig and Zuri. It was no use. He searched the city, high and low, but found no trace of his children. He buried his wife, and set out looking for the one thing he had left – Cobalt. Cobalt was there, of course. Standing over the corpse of a Babau – no doubt the very same one that had nearly killed Jens. And with him was a young filly – a creature he’d written off as being unsellable, but who Sólveig had begged him to keep as a pet. Alfsigr was her name, a young bay with a fierce white blaze on her brow and a meek, clingy disposition. With a heavy heart, Jens made arrangements to sell his business, and gathered his last few possessions from home. It was then that he swore to join the Fourth Crusade. For a few years, his ferocity served him well – he now had nothing left to lose, spare Cobalt. He grew older, wearier, jaded. His golden beard and hair began to streak with silver. His body began to get wearier. He looked like a man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Cobalt grew older, too. Soldiering on to the end, Cobalt gave no indication that he was close to death until, one morning, when Jens rose, the old horse didn’t. And that was that. Jens was thirty-five. He buried his last remaining friend, and stopped volunteering for Worldwound patrols. His drive and passion gone, he turned to a different project – training new crusaders, people younger and more able-bodied than himself. He trained scores of young men and women, saw them head into the Wordwound, full of promise – and saw few of them return. Jens has been there since, training people for their deaths. But part of him burns with a fierce desire to head back into the Worldwound, back into the face of death – to take the fight to the demons. And, if need be, to not return. Appearance: Jens is a big man, typically Ulfen in stature - standing at a towering 6'6", and broad to match. His shoulders are big, his chest is like a barrel, and his midsection is beginning to fill out in his middle-age, the more defined muscles of his youth fading more each day to be replaced by bulk. His thighs are thick, his legs long, and his feet large. Jens is a big man with a big presence to match. His voice is loud and resonant when he wants it to be; slow and cold otherwise. Even decades of travel haven't quite worn off his accent from the Lands of the Linnorm Kings - when he focuses, he can keep it clipped, but in moments of high passion - anger, blood-lust, or despair - the accent is thicker, only adding more to his intimidating presence. Jens dresses in plenty of layers, mostly to provide comfort when wearing his armour, partly because he's getting older and feeling the cold more. He favours heavy armours, and is deceptively agile for his size and age, especially in the saddle. His hair and beard are both long, thick, and golden - both braided, and both streaked with silver. He knows he isn't getting any younger, and sees no shame in going grey. Personality: Jens has a big personality to match his size. When joyous, he's boisterous, quick to clap someone one the back to congratulate a job well done, quick to raise a tankard in good cheer, quick to laugh at a good joke, usually accompanied by a good thigh-slapping. When he falls silent, it means one of two things - either the time for cheer is over, and a serious tone is expected of all; or he's trying to figure out whether to run you through or bash your face in. As a man who's lost everything, Jens is quick to take risks. He knows better than to attempt something outright suicidal, but he never stops looking for his glorious death. He's a man without a purpose, with nothing left to live for, and a cause worth dying for. To those younger than himself, Jens is a gruff father figure - he acts almost patronisingly to those twenty years or more his junior, always trying to talk them out of dangerous actions. This isn't out of disrtespect - rather,it is out of fatherly instinct. He hasn't seen his own children for many years, after all, presuming them dead in the demon raid, and is wracked with guilt. He could have protected the, he thinks, had he only been there. No young man or woman should have to die when there are old men like himself to take the blows. He Jens knows better than to take stupid risks, but will do so if it means protecting those more deserving of life. If protecting young soldiers, particularly if they remind him of his own children, he will gladly fight to the death. He doesn't wish anyone to suffer the fate of his own offspring. Alfsigr: A large man needs a large horse, and Alfsigr fits the bill perfectly. 12 years old, standing at an impressive 18 hands, and with a stocky build to match, she, like her master, is deceptively fast and agile. Her coat is thick, rough, and shaggy, a rich bay colour. Bred for war, and sired by Jens' old horse Cobalt, Alfsigr displays absolute loyalty, and has been trained for nothing less. Future development:
Mechanics:
His feats will mainly focus on demoralizing, drawing aggression, and protecting others, and his mythic feats and powers will follow this as well. His mythic path will be Guardian, and I see him picking up powers such as Empathic Healing to fill the concept I have of him. My goal is to essentially build him as a mobile meat shield, capable of taking damage, taking damage in place of others, and taking damage from others upon himself. Story:
I'm well aware of the imitations large animal companions will have in the first part of the Wrath of the Righteous campaign, and I'm more than happy for Jens to be without his mount during that time - perhaps leaving her stabled in Kenabres. It even fits thematically - his old horse, Cobalt, was his best friend, and his most loyal companion. Alfsigr is younger and newer - she's a fine horse, but not the one he grew up with, and as a result, he wouldn't think of her as his bonded mount - not until they were reunited and he realized how loyal she was, at which point he'd take to the saddle again. As he is right now, he's not much of a people person, and possibly something of a liability, as he's essentially wanting to find a glorious death in battle. But it won't take long for him to bond with a party, and start working to protect them rather than seek his own death. I think Jens has a lot of potential for good role-playing, and a nice juicy plot hook in his missing children - he found the body of his wife, but no sign of his children, and has presumed them dead in the attack, with no idea of what could have really happened. I've had this character in mind for WotR for some time now, and would love to see him make it! AoO's / keeping folks safe:
Rolling for attacks of opportunity below; however, if an adjacent ally is attacked, he can use one of them to add +4 to their AC ([provided he can beat AC 10). Defending allies takes priority over getting extra hits in on allies. When all AoOs are expended, he can still use Saving Shield as an immediate action to add +3 to an ally's AC, no roll required. [dice=AoO 1]1d20+8[/dice] [dice=damage]1d8+4[/dice]
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