 About Thorolf.Thorolf Thurgonson
Special Abilities:
-------------------- Damage Resistance, Cold (2) You have the specified Damage Resistance against Cold attacks. Destructive Smite +1 (6/day) (Su) You gain the destructive smite power: the supernatural ability to make a single melee attack with a morale bonus on damage rolls equal to 1/2 your cleric level (minimum 1). You must declare the destructive smite before making the attack. You can use Inquisitor Domain (Rage) Associated Domain: Destruction Note: The effective level for the barbarian rage powers is currently equal to the cleric level. The rule that they should only count their effective barbarian level as 1/2 their cleric level has not bee
Background Story:
Who am I you ask? Does the name Thorolf Thurgonson not ring bells in your ears? No? Well then come. Sit. Raise a mug and I will tell you of my deeds. I was born of a line of warriors, great thanes whose lineage stretch back to the world’s founding. A line of proud men and women whose very names would make the stoutest of hearts quake; whose very visages would break shield walls. Names like Wulf the Fierce, Asha Silvertongue, Braen Seven-Fingers. They said the blood of fey and giants run in our blood. ::sigh:: But no longer I fear. You see, there are but two of us left. Myself, and my sister, Igraine. My childhood was a happy one. I lived in my father’s great hall, master of the lands which we held for the Darkwine. Igraine and I would practice our mock battles with wooden swords and shields, dreaming of the day we would stand alongside our father and take our places in the shield wall. At night we would sit by the hearth and listen to old Brengin sing and tell tales of adventure and battle, of strange creatures, daring raids, blood feuds, King’s battles with the Linnorns, and the treachery of the witches on our border. Ironically, it was on one such night that they came. We had no warning. Our sentries had been poisoned with a sleeping draught administered in their mead by one who was once my father’s friend, now my enemy. Turlach, that accursed whoreson! I remember to this day the looks he would steal at my mother when he thought no one was watching. Even at my tender age I knew what they meant. He coveted her, and I, young fool that I was forgot those looks and never mentioned them. And so, the black-heart was able to open our gates to the enemy unhindered, without even so much as suspicion of his betrayal. The trolls, wolves, and black sorcery fueled by a witch dressed all in white fur poured in and men died. Turlach killed my father, but my mother he did not have, for she took her own life rather than fall into his clutches. Outraged, he found my sister and grabbed her and threw her across his saddle before tossing a burning torch onto the Hall, setting it ablaze. Snarling, I leapt to my feet, grabbing my father’s sword and rushed at him, but he only laughed at the puny form of a seven year old. He reached back and hurled a spear straight towards me, turning his mount around contemptuously and galloping off, his pet witch in tow, even as the spear hurtled towards its mark. It was then that the gods intervened miraculously, for this is what happened: I knew I was a dead man, for Turlach’s aim had been true, yet on I rushed. But my death was not fated for that day, for suddenly a form appeared, materializing out of the very air in front of me. A suit of spiked, iron armor, in which I swear there was no flesh. Do not look at me like that! I speak the truth, I know what I saw in my mind’s eye, and any man who says otherwise will taste the iron of my blade. For I know Gorum himself intervened that day and turned aside the spear and I was spared that my family may one day have its vengeance. Mark my words, there will be no blood price sufficient, no weregild adequate. Turlach will die by my hands. And I shall discover what has happened to my sister. I lay in the snow as the wind howled about, the heat from the burning hall at my back likely the only thing that saved me from a frozen death. The next day I was rescued by a man of the Blackravens. Took me in, fed me, nursed me to health. Raised me I guess you’d say. Now that I am older, I’ve taken the oaths, both to the Ravens and to the Shrine of Gorum. My unique… talents as one initiated into the god’s mysteries give me unique strengths in the cause of rooting out the agents of Irrisen for the Blackravens – and that in turn gives me unique opportunities to search for my hated enemy. That is how I came to be here in Heldren. The Ravens stationed me here these past few weeks. Something is afoot. I will hunt and fight my people’s enemies and in so doing find my sister. I will build my reputation and a warband of my own. When I am strong Turlach will die.
Personality:
Thorolf is rather taciturn for the most part, though he is also usually of a friendly enough sort, especially when amongst those he is comfortable with. He tends towards seriousness rather than jovial. The ulfen man expects nothing handed to him and will work whole-heartedly towards his goals – and he expects much the same from those he associates with. Though anything but a poet himself, he has a great love of the ‘skaldic’ traditions of the north and appreciates good music. He is practical and observant, often holding back when his more exuberant neighbors might rush in. When he acts, it is usually with decisiveness however and he fights with ruthless ferocity. Traits: Positive: Thorolf is extremely loyal and dependable to those he trusts He is also hard working and pursues tasks tirelessly. Negative:
Appearance:
Thorolf stands at about 6 foot. He is wiry, yet strong looking and moves with the grace of a trained warrior. His eyes are blue, his hair black and about shoulder-length. A close-trimmed beard frames his angular face which is reddened in areas from exposure to the cold elements of the north. His dress is typical of that in the north – a wool overtunic and pants over which he wears a shirt of mail and a wolf hide cloak. Around his neck was hangs by leather thong a gift from his father – a small amulet made of whale bone cut and shaped into the likeness of a longship. This was passed down from his grandfather (a successful raider) to his father and then to Thorolf when he was a boy. (inherited item) first questions answered:
*As an inquisitor, does his perception of Gorum's worship differ from doctrine in any way? The area in which Thorolf differs most from the 'stereotypical' priesthood is in personality. While the god (and by extension his clerics) are impulsive and prone to violent outbursts, I see Thorolf as being more calculating and contemplative... patient might also be a good term. Also, having had everything taken from him early on, he is less likely to 'like something and simply take it' himself - unless that 'something' is vital to his needs or agenda. Then he is not above the 'might makes right' philosophy. He is also as apt to use stealth and infiltration than open confrontation if he feels the situation warrants. (Not sure if that differs from the typical, but there you go.) That said, he revels in battle (what true northerner doesn't?), its ebb and flow, the adrenaline, testing himself against others, and the euphoria of victory. *With such a burning desire for vengeance on Turlach, why would he engage on a quest that will take him away from the Lands of the Linnorm Kings? First reason being that Thorolf is still young and relatively untested. Turlach is older, has untold combats in his experience belt, and is surrounded by his own warband. One on One, Thorolf doesn't stand much of a chance. One against a warband, he doesn't stand any - and he's smart enough to know that. To that end he's hoping to build his own reputation and experience Second, he is also after his sister. (I don't think it was very clear from the story, but the witch took her) I haven't read any of the AP, but I assume the first bit will take us near or into Irissen. If so, this would give Thorolf the opportunity to hunt for info as to her whereabouts. Also, once committed to a task, his loyalty to his companions (not to mention his own sense of pride and dollop of stubbornness) won't let him abandon the quest once begun. And who knows but that this sort of thing isn't just what's needed to build a reputation around? A reputation that might attract other warriors with whom to return and challenge Turlach?
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