[hider=Erik Torvald Viken][h1][center][color=00aeef] Erik Torvald Viken [/color][/center][/h1]

[center][img] https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/84/6c/85/846c85d1b172009b9b29695b92c2cf75.jpg [/img]
Picture taken from his service in the 15th Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry.[/center]

[h3][center][color=00aeef]Character basics[/color][/center][/h3]

[b]Name:[/b] Erik Torvald Viken
[b]Nicknames/alias:[/b] Tuna, Babyface, Norway, Swede (which he severly dislikes)
[b]Age:[/b] 38
[b]Place of birth & ethnicity:[/b] Norway, a town called «Bergheim» now deserted. Norwegian, Caucasian. 
[b]Gender:[/b] Male
[b]Occupation:[/b] Cattle herder and the occasional gun-for-hire. 

[h3][center][color=00aeef]Character appearance & personality[/color][/center][/h3]

[b]Apperance:[/b] Even for his age, one might take Erik for a much younger man; his round cheeks, hairless face and innocent-looking green eyes fools them who do not get to know him. His hair short and blonde, combed back in a make-shift fashion; it's practical he says. His height serves him well enough at an average 5'7", his build the same of an average type. But looks are decieving, aren't they?

[b]Clothing:[/b] A long brown jacket worn over a white shirt sports Erik, a pair of dirty jeans, held up by suspenders. He wears a pair of military boots, well worn, and a well-used slouch-hat finds itself planted onto his head.
Personal style: Being used to driving herds of cattle over long distances, Erik prefers the style he already wears. It's practical, and cheap enough to fix or replace pieces of clothing when needed. 

[b]Personality:[/b] How does one describe Erik? Well you could begin with the fact that he is quite friendly, even to strangers. He was once a stranger to America himself, and knows how it is to be looked upon badly. He gives a friendly smile and a helping hand when needed, unless you point out his foreigness to him; the worst thing you can call him is "A Swede", for which you might find him pushing you out of his way. If you've treated him worse after him trying to be friendly, he's not afraid of giving you a well-deserved punch. Not killing you though, he only kills people who try to kill him.

[b]Habits:[/b] If near it, Erik will pull out a piece of straw and chew on it whenever possible. You might also find him pulling his suspenders and pants up, as if them being too big for him, including him swearing in Norwegian whenever the need arises. 

[h3][center][color=00aeef]Skills and items[/color][/center][/h3]

[b]Regular life skills:[/b] Half a lifetime has taught Erik how to ride a horse and herd cattle, without falling off said horse in the process. One might even say that he’s learned how to “talk” with the creatures, though that is of course an overstatement; he simply knows how to read them and what do to in certain situations.
 
[b]Combat skills:[/b] He was in the army for a few years; in fact served through the whole Civil War and lived, giving him enough experience with a rifle and the occational carnage that his officer would call "Charging the enemy". In later years, he's gotten decent enough with a cattle revolver, though his ace is with his rifle. 

[b]Items on your person:[/b] 1873 Colt Single Action Army Revolver and varying amounts of ammunition for said weapon; his clothes and 48$.

[b]Additional stuff:[/b] Winchester modell 1873 and ammunition for said weapon; his army uniform and spare clothes (one pair); Protestant Bible in Danish; satchel; blanket; cutlery and comb. 

[h3][center][color=00aeef]History[/color][/center][/h3]

[b]What brings you to Haylliesburg:[/b] In a country growing more suspecious of foreigners - even if they are legally American citizens -, Erik found himself moving to the frontier in search of work. He ended up in Haylliesburg by chance, leaving the group of travellers he had accompanied upon hearing if the possibility of protecting cattle from bandits. 

[b]Your life before coming to Haylliesburg:[/b] Erik doesn't come from America, not ever from the rugged lands of Minnesota or North Dakota; born and raised in the 'Old Country' of Norway, in a little town located just beneath a mountain, the last thought during his childhood was for him to become what he became. So nothing special can be said about his childhood, until the mountain came crashing down on the town. 

His mother was one of the missing people after the avelanche, alongside most of the townsfolk. His father and him had little left, and with no support from neither locals or governmental departments, Erik's father felt that their best course of action was to leave for America. With what little money they had left, they bought the cheapest tickets possible and boarded an 'America-liner' to take them to the New World. 

A very small piece of land, way north in Minnesota was all they could afford. Erik had to spend much of his time at a ranch, working to earn enough for the two of them to get by. He did learn a whole lot about riding and herding cattle from it, though that was as much as he got from it. And then the war came.

Eager to serve a greater purpose than just herding cattle, Erik volunteered for the 15h Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry and served under Colonel Heg through the war. Nothing extraordinary occured to him, except being wounded and treated (without amputation, surprisingly) before being sent back to the war. He was decent enough with a rifle, though by no means getting close to being rewarded the Medal of Honor. Some claim it was because of him not really being an American citizen by birth, but he simply brushes it off as him doing his duty for his new homeland, not asking for much more. 

With the war over, Erik set his sight back home again and took charge of the farm his father initially set up. If he learned quickly how to aim and shoot during the war, it was his time managing the farm that he learned how to kill without remorse; bandits and other kinds of renegades found their isolated farmstead a fine picking, and time and time again Erik found himself firing warning shots to scare them away. The warning shots turned eventually to aiming for their legs, which in turn ended up with him simply aiming for the chest, which worked out in the end. Well, at least until his father died in said raid, and Erik decided it was better to leave than to stay and face the same fate. Besides, he was no longer welcomed in the town, having gone beyond the law to revenge his father's death. Strange how the killer of your father's killers was still looked upon as a killer?

Working his way southwards, serving as a cattle-herder whenever needed and the occational gun-for-fire (which he slowly came to enjoy, perhaps because he knew he was starting to get good at it). The further he travelled south, the more he worked with his guns and less with his lazoo. And now he stands at the edge of Halliesburg, looking to see if Erik the Herder is needed, or Erik Babyface is needed for some shooting. 

[h3][center][color=00aeef]Extra[/color][/center][/h3]
Anything else you feel needs to be added, but doesn’t fit anywhere else. 
[list][*][url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/2826046]Click me, if you dare?[/url]
[*][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0JPnR7C8mZQ]Though I think the two other movies in the "trilogy" are fantastic, this one really stuck with me. It might have been the last part, the tension hanging in the air and great acting.[/url]
[*][/list]

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