About SigmundrOffense
[dice=Hit]1d20+7[/dice]
Defenses
Race, Traits:
Race: Human
Traits
Feats, Skills, Equipment:
Feats
Skills
Background Skills
Equipment 3350 gp
Gloomblade Fighter:
* Bravery (Ex)
* Shadow Weapon Training (Ex)
Background:
Sigmundr was born in Rhizia. He never knew his father, for the man was a pirate who went out to sea and never returned. This was a fact of life for many within the small town that he was born in. As such, he grew up on tales of his father's adventurers, told by his often drunk comrades who would raise a toast to the man whenever they saw his son. To his mother's distress, Sigmundr idealized his father, whom in his eyes was the epitome of what an ulfen should be. It came as a surprise to none that when he came of age he took to sea, eager to raid the coasts of the world for glory and plunder. This life went on for many a year. Sigmundr was tall, even by the standard of his people, and even moreso was large. Ulfen warriors were known throughout the world for their strength, but even among them Sigmundr stood out for the raw power that he exuded. That, and the dark look in his eyes that accompanied his joy for bloodshed. While there were no outward appearances, he had within him giant blood, which only served to heighten his physicality and his desire to cause destruction. Given the predilection of his blood and the culture that he came from, his choice of profession was clear for all to see. Such a life would have continued until he met his father's fate, if not for his dreams. As the days turned into months and the months into years, the same dream would come to him again and again. In his dream there was a white-bearded dwarf, armor torn and rent, fighting atop the Crown of the World against a horrific Oni. In his dream the two killed each other, with the dwarf lopping off of the Oni's head and burying his axe into it's skull, even as he succumbed to his own wounds. The dream felt *real* beyond imagining, and it came with a burning desire to travel towards the location where both lay. Of course, his crewmates refused to make such a journey, to chase a dream into the icy wilderness without any other profit to shot for it. Thus, he left them and his seafaring days behind and journeyed north. North ever onwards. To say that it was an adventure would be an understatement. For the Oni, slain many centuries ago, had spread it's seed far and wide. When it had fallen, it's very essence had been trapped by the axe of the dwarven hero who slew it. An essence which could not escape so long as the axe remained lodged in it's skull. As such, it used it's abyssal power to call out to any who shared it's blood, willing them to come and accept their birthright. That is, to be possessed and consumed by the Oni, so that it might take their body and walk the world again. Sigmundr was but one in a long line of heroes and villains who had tried and failed to find this resting place. However, unlike those who came before, he succeeded. Standing at the spot that had plagued his dreams for so long, the warrior trudged over and began to dig through the snow. What he found was the body of the lost and forgotten dwarven hero, lying beside an Oni's skull with a magnificent axe lodged within it. Heeding the call of his blood, he ripped the axe free... ...what occurred was a battle of wills which he would have lost. That is, if not for the axe. For the axe was an ancient relic of a bygone age, which held within it it's own intelligence. Designed specifically for the task of dealing with outsiders as evil as this, the blade lent it's will to that of Sigmundr. His screams echoed along the empty wastes, as he fought a battle within his mind against his Oni progenitor for his very soul. At long last he fell to his knees, a changed man. The Oni had lost, it's very essence consumed by Sigmundr so that it became part of him. And so too did the axe. Just as the axe had bound the Oni into it's skull, now it bound the Oni within Sugmundr. It was him and he was it, and the axe was likewise bound to him. This created something of a dichotomy. Sigmundr was a warrior. A raider. A pillager. A murderer. He was a man who took what he wanted because might made right. But the axe? The axe had a mind of it's own, and a will that was greater than his. It was designed to protect the people of the mortal world against the many evils that would plague them. It was a weapon fit only for the hands of a hero. And heroism is what the axe demanded. Now Sigmundr finds himself continuing to wander the lands. He searches for glory. He revels in spilling blood. Only now, the desire to right wrongs, to slay evils and to protect the innocent wars within him. He has found that the only way to avoid the mental anguish of fighting the great will of the blade is to find ways to meet both of their needs. For it truly is possible to spill blood, earn coin, and to slay evil at the same time. As such, with the humble village of Hame calling for aid, he has answered the call. He hopes that this will lead to both he, and his axe, being satisfied.
Gendwar Argrim's Fury:
Forged when the dwarves long ago under great need, this axe contains the essence of a lantern archon in the service of Gendwar Argrim. The deity aggressively seeks out threats to eliminate, and this weapon was designed to allow one of his servants to remain indefinitely in the mortal world so that it might do just that. It holds within it an undying thirst for justice, and to violently end any and all threats. Especially those from the outer planes. The archon within is more than happy to be wielded by heroes, though thus far Sigmundr has left something to be desired. Still, the life of a mortal man is short, especially by the reckoning of an immortal spirit. And at the very least the human was proven to be strong of arm and pliable of mind, two qualities which the blade has deemed sufficient in allowing itself to be wielded. |