I decided to go for an older character; his intelligence might not be impressively high, but he has the strength and - strangely enough - compassion to make up for it. Oh, typing Bjorn instead of Bjørn is not a problem either. I just liked the way it looked! [hr] [color=silver][b]Name:[/b] [/color] Bjørn Ulfrikson [color=silver][b]Age:[/b][/color] 41 yo [color=silver][b]Appearance:[/b][/color] [hider=Bjørn Ulfikson] [centre][img]http://img03.deviantart.net/9a1c/i/2014/071/7/5/beard_man_by_legendary_memory-d79vr8x.png[/img][/centre] [/hider] [i]Bjørn Ulfrikson, 6'2" tall and padded with muscle, is a tough looking creature. His brown manes - which includes his beard - show the first traces of grey, much against his liking. His eerily cold eye, its colour best described as colourless or pale, is often fixated on either ale or an attractive individual - most probably ale, while his other eye lays hidden beneath a thick, ugly scar which was the result of a dispute with the local guardsmen. The sides of his skull are shaved and decorated with black - slightly faded - ink which creeps down his neck where it continues to flow over his shoulders, down his arms and towards his hands. The lines often interrupted by thick scars and scrapes from battle and brawls. [/i] [color=silver][b]Class:[/b][/color] Berserker; The Berserker is a character who throws himself into a fight with such reckless abandon, it almost seems a death wish. It could be over-enthusiasm, overconfidence, or an unstoppable, blinding rage that fuels him. Berserkers are equally capable of being good or evil, but almost always chaotic in their ways. They regularly have to be reminded by their teammates to control themselves after a particularly close call. 
 The berserkr of Viking-age Scandinavia: Warriors who are said to have thrown themselves into battle wearing only animal hides for armour and with no regard for their own safety. Their 'battle-madness', whose exact nature is presently unknown (some say it came from eating weird mushrooms before a battle) is said to have been a gift from the Gods. The word "berserkr" means "Bear-shirt" in Old Norse, referring to either their going into battle with the ferocity of bears or for wearing bear pelts into battle. Their effectiveness in battle is up for debate, but they were an imposing and terrifying nightmare to the continental Europeans — and, if The Icelandic Sagas are to be trusted, to their own civilization. [i][colour=lightgray]’His men rushed forwards without armour, were as mad as dogs or wolves, bit their shields, and were strong as bears or wild oxen, and killed people at a blow, but neither fire nor iron told upon them.’ [/colour][/i] Snorri Sturluson (1179–1241) [i]Ynglinga saga [/i] [color=silver][b]Alignment:[/b][/color] Chaotically Neutral [color=silver][b]Weapon(s):[/b][/color] He'll carry with him his beloved axe, also used to chop wood whenever in need of a campfire, which he forged himself at the beginning of his journey. Found in his other hand - when not an ale - or on his back, he has a wooden, round shield which has seen better days and is in dire need of a repair or replacement. Hanging from his belt he'll also have a sharp, dagger-like knife which he uses to skin animals with, or - whenever needed - serves as a useful weapon against his enemies. [color=silver][b]Armor/Clothing:[/b][/color] For battle, or quests, during colder months, he wears a sleeveless mail shirt formed of interlinked, riveted rings. It's mostly covered by thick furs and skins to make Bjørn look even broader than he already is. He'll have a bear-skin draped over his shoulder, its head sown on wolf-pelt to create a warm hood and rather disturbing sight. During the warmer months, however, he wears a loin-cloth'like piece of dark fabric, underneath which - when not too warm - a tight pair of pants with leather boots and around his waist a massive gut belt, also functioning as armour to protect some of his vital organs. He'll always dress to impress, having to seem intimidating in a way. So he'll most likely carry furs or animal bones with him to create such illusion. [color=silver][b]Personal trinkets:[/b][/color] [list] [*] Personal [list] [*] Father's ring; [i]given to him by his uncle after the fire.[/i] [*] Grizzly claw; [i]hanging from his neck he displays the claws of a massive beast, the same creature once owned the thick fur that now hangs from Bjørn's shoulder.[/i] [/list] [*] Functional [list] [*] Knife (Weapon + Tool) [*] Axe (Weapon + Tool) [*] Whetstone [*] Flint and Steel [*] Tinder [*] Waterskin; [i]most probably filled with an alcoholic beverage[/i] [/list] [/list] [color=silver][b]Short History:[/b][/color] Bjørn was born and raised in a mountainous township which was well-known for mining. His parents had raised him in a strict way and hoped he’d one day would take over his father’s mining company, but after years they gave up on that idea. Young Bjørn just wasn’t great student and had no interest in maths or economy. His interest laid beyond the safe walls of his home. He had always dreamt of being an adventurer, or a soldier serving the crown. He wanted to explore and help people out, but his parents didn’t approve. One day when Bjørn was fifteen years of age, the king’s men came to inspect his father’s mining business, like they did often. There was always trouble between the king and his dad. The crown demanded a lower price, but his father had declined. They had lowered the price three times already that year. But his refusal had been the last straw. 
The young Bjørn was helping out at the mines when he saw the flames arising from his home. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, but when he arrived his home had already been devoured by flames and his parents buried beneath the embers. Bjørn grew a hatred towards the men who carried with them the king’s sigil. He had realised that day that there was nothing lawful about them. His uncle let him live with him and his wife, they raised him like he was one of their own. His uncle had been a worker in the mines and took his father’s position while teaching Bjørn the ropes of mining itself. He grew older and stronger in the dark, picking stone until his muscles ached, day-after-day. Then one morning he said his goodbyes, leaving his home to seek the men who had taken his parents from him. Of course, too many years had passed for him to find them. Their faces had faded from his memory and their traces disappeared over time. He wasn’t in peace, but he decided that helping others out would at least ease the still aching pain. Now traveling the land, he helps out wherever he can; keeping trade-routes safe, farmers who need an extra hand during the harvest, and more. These days, while being in the area, he spends his hours drinking and brawling with the local louts at ‘The Retired Sword’. [color=silver][b]Personality:[/b][/color] Bjørn Ulfrikson lives up to his name; he's a musclebound goliath of great proportions. He's large, a little hairy and richly decorated with ink.. - Did I mention that he's large? With his axe in one hand and a mug of ale in the other, he’s often found causing havoc in taverns and other places of merriment. This bulky character is easily the brains of the group due to his vast knowledge of shapes and colours. - Okay, he’s clearly the muscle and not one to be trusted with difficult decision making. His intelligence has proven problematic in the past; Violence is his preferred approach. Quick and easy. But don’t get fooled by those bulky arms and intimidating gaze. This ale-loving man could easily become your best friend. He’s as loyal as a dog and would never leave someone behind. This (surprisingly huggable) giant’s laughter could warm the coldest of hearts and he has proven himself to be more compassionate than people, and he himself, expect him to be. He has a good sense of right and wrong and serves justice as he deems fit, which might not always be the lawful way.