Asmodai Grim

You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.” ((How do you respond?)) I nod in an almost polite gesture as I sit on the aformentioned cushion. "I am called Asmodai Grim. I am a servant of the Gods by serving kings. I am an honorable man who gives no mercy to those who wish to corrupt the mortal realms. I was raised alone in the woods of the Heartlands where I had to survive and commit horrible acts to stay alive, until I was taken in by the Kingdom of Haense. There I became much more. I became a warrior who delved into the darkness in order to destroy the heretics who reside there with the furosity and treachery that they themselves committed. There are men who pose as monsters, but I am a monster who poses as man. Unyielding. Unforgiving. Unrelenting. But I also learned the value of information." I lean in towards the old hag, as the cold stare from the black holes of my adorned skull helm hide any true intentions. "Because what wins wars? What turns men into kings, and kings into Gods? Military might? Honor and valour? Gold and steel? These answers are expected from any war hardened veteran or the autocratic fools who pose as such. The real answer is secrets. Secrets turn the tide of war and can tear down the walls of a kingdom as if it were a thousand catapults. I serve the Gods and burn the heretics who deny them, but when it comes to serving kings, I offer them secrets. People are easy to sway to give up their information and use to your advantage. I can have people do my bidding and hide in plain sight in all the kingdoms of Almaris. My goal is to collect secrets and destroy any who deny the Gods and corrupt the mortal realm, because sometimes, in order to eliminate a monster, you must become something even worse. I am fear made manifest, I am the light of the Gods that must work in the darkness, I am the angel of death, and I have in fact, been expecting YOU."

Wulfgar Nordenhelm, later in his life known only to be as, Wulfgar the Wrathful, once was a humble and caring child of Hafthor and Sheilen Nordenhelm. Growing up in a small village a ways away from the capital of Oren, Helena, Wulfgar lived a fairly quiet and peaceful life as an only child, helping out his father tend to his farm. Even as a small child, he began to develop his strength at a rapid rate, slowly surpassing even his father at only the age of 10. This brute strength however, came at the price of having to suppress it, for Wulfgar would witness his parents be victim to unjust harassment by the Lord of that province and demanding a higher tax from them. Wulfgar had always been taught to stay quiet , but keen, and for years Wulfgar would have to suppress his rage towards the Lord, and every time keep his mouth shut to the injustice he’s been causing towards his family. One day, Wulfgar decided he’s had enough, and when the Lord stopped by to collect his high tax, Wulfgar instead paid him by cutting the Lord’s hand clean off with the family wood axe. As satisfying as it was, both Wulfgar and his parents knew that only more trouble would brew from this. Sure enough, the Lord returned with a dozen guards demanding that they take Wulfgar to be executed. Wulfgar’s parents pleaded with the Lord, saying he’s only a child, but the Lord was set on getting revenge. With the help of some charisma, and a few hundred gold, the Lord settled on punishing Wulfgar by having him exiled and forced to be separated from his parents to live a life alone wandering. Wulfgar, who was both angry and confused at his parents for letting such a thing happen as opposed to fighting, left the village without saying a word. Decades after being exiled from his home, Wulfgar lived a quiet life in solidarity in the forests away from any civilization. Not even Wulfgar knew where he was, however, he often saw Wood Elves pass by and even traded pelts and meat for ale, so he assumed he was close to the Forest Realm of Irrinor, not that he’d be willing to check that is. It was a quiet life indeed, one that would soon be hindered by common bandits. The bandits arrived encircling Wulfgar’s huntsman’s shack and demanded he come out and give them his valuables. Instead, Wulfgar challenged the leader to a trial by combat, and if Wulfgar won, the bandits would leave him alone indefinitely. The bandit leader, stocky and big, agreed. Not even a minute passed, and the bandit leader was on the ground unconscious, for Wulfgar won swiftly. The bandits left quickly, taking their fallen leader with them. In a strange turn of events, the bandits would often show up again, but not to steal, but to give small gifts and cuts of their stolen goods. They have never seen anyone defeat their leader, and have all decided to make Wulfgar their unofficial new leader. Wulfgar, annoyed at first, soon decided to take advantage of the situation, and fully led the bandits. Years after, Wulfgar ran with the bandits and made a decent amount of gold stealing. One day however, him and some bandits were robbing a manor just outside of New Reza, but made a turn for the worst when the guards were called. The bandits fled, leaving Wulfgar to his fate. Wulfgar was furious they left him, and as the guards arrested him, he went into a state of rage and cut down as many guards as he could before having to flee from reinforcements. Wulfgar then went back to the bandit camp and killed everyone there for leaving him to be executed. It was this day that Wulfgar would be known as Wulfgar the Wrathful. Now, Wulfgar is once again just a simple wanderer, taking up jobs as he finds them. He seeks a quiet life away from the world, but thanks to his constant rage, he will always be on the move.