Jhal Kim's page

About Jhal Kim

Jhal Kim

Jhal grew up in a poor village as a poor farmer's son. Hard labor, rough winters, and the constant threat of raids from Thai Sol clan bandits. In the best of times, he lived a normal child's life, playing with other kids, getting into trouble, etc. In the worst of times he watched friends and family raped/killed/robbed by the Thai Sol bandits. Jhal worked hard, but hated seeing his hard work being handed over to bandits every season. When he was old enough, he took over hunting duties for his aging father, spending long hours perfecting his archery and trying to grow strong enough to use his father's massive composite bow. He imagined every deer as a bandit, sometimes taking hours to drag back two or three.

Next season, the bandits just...didn't come. Jhal kept training and working hard, a grim young man, heavily muscled, ugly, simple-minded. He kept preparing, almost able to draw his father's bow. The bandits still didn't come the next season, and the next. In the winter, Jhal's father grew ill and died quietly. Jhal was devastated. All he wanted was for his father to see him defend the village, turn the bandits away. The villagers were relieved, happy, that the bandits were gone, while Jhal brooded and continued to go off into the forest with his bow and his father's bow, training, training, training.

Years passed and still no sign of the bandits. Jhal's vendetta was forgotten, drowned in ale. He was strong enough to draw his father's bow, and there was no point anymore. He drank himself to sleep, drank himself fat, drank himself into fights. As time passed, Jhal's aggression and drinking made him not much more than a common thug, king of the tavern. He took what he wanted, because in his mind, he had spent his entire life working hard for the village, and now it owed him.

One day, when Jhal was particularly drunk, the bandits returned. They laughed as the gruff ugly bearded giant of a man, with his keg belly, stumbled at them waving an axe around. They beat and robbed him, then took their usual "share" from the village. When he woke, he was bruised, battered, penniless, and had a terrible hangover. He threw up, then he went and got his father's bow.

The rest of the season, Jhal resumed his training, finding himself much older and out of shape than when he trained last. He barely slept, and rarely drank. The season went fast, and the bandits returned, right on schedule this time.

As they rode up to the town, Jhal shot the leader in the chest with a broadhead arrow, knocking him off his horse with the sheer power of the composite bow. The bandits panicked, searching for the shooter and spotting Jhal in his simple villager hut, firing another shot from the window that split a bandit's skull open. They rushed the house, flooding in. The first bandit through the door took an arrow clean through his stomach, killing the bandit behind him.

The villagers found Jhal, keg-belly rising and falling slowly the only sign he was still alive. He was covered in blood, bandits cleaved and hacked to pieces with his battleaxe all around him. The villagers quickly finished off the few that had only been mortally wounded, and gathered to decide what to do with Jhal. He was a thug, a threat to the village, but he was still one of them--and the bandits would send more.

Season after season, Jhal defended the village from the Thai Sol. He drank still, but lighter. He was happy, jolly even, laughing and joking with the villagers he used to intimidate and rob. Old habits die hard, and he couldn't resist the occasional squeezing the occasional "protection fee" from the villagers. In his heart though, he felt horribly guilty about becoming what he loathed so much--a bandit--and was working hard to redeem himself. He was searching for something more, to do something truly great for the village, in exchange for putting up with him. He set out to the bandit camp.

Weeks passed before Jhal returned. None of the villagers knew exactly what Jhal did out there, but the bandits never came to their village again.

From then on, Jhal went back to drinking. A jolly, grinning, ever-present face in the tavern. He liked to rough up travelers that came through, giving them a hard time, but generally tried to do good by the villagers, making sure they had enough food for winters. Jhal's keg-belly and bearded grinning face at your doorstep became a welcome sight for the villagers--over time.

One day he was approached by a Tai Zhu temple monk who had heard his story. He offered Jhal a chance to redeem himself, by defending the youngest son of Emperor Han on his journey to Tien Bae. Whether Jhal was tempted by the coin, fame, or chance at redemption--or all of them--is unclear (maybe even to Jhal himself), but he agreed.

The monk lead him to Tai Zhu Temple where he was outfitted with armor, food, and supplies for the journey to come.