Post by Khamat on Jan 18, 2015 13:30:13 GMT -5
Basic Information
Name: Khamat
Race: Skaldi
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Height: 11'2"
Weight: 765lbs
Eyes: Brown
Hair: N/A
Class/Occupation: Fighter/Lord (Chief)
Nobility: Chief
Starting Morality: Black Hearted
Faction: Flametongues (leader)
Languages: Sissak
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Appearance: Khamat presents a large hulking figure, standing taller than most Skaldi and packed with muscle he can be rather intimidating to most people, his scales are a dark orange colour whereas his underside is a dark cream colour and his entire hulking form is covered in scars of a variety of shapes and sizes. Down his back Khamat has a series of short spines that go all the way from the tip of his head to the end of his tail, the spines all being white black at the base but fading to white at the tips. On the end of each one of his fingers or toe there sits a deadly, wicked looking claw that looks as if it could disembowl a man with a single touch.
Khamat usually wears a pair of incredibly ragged looking leather shorts that are standard issue to any male in the clan, they are well worn from constant use but they are all he has.
Personality: Khamat, as is normal amongst Skaldi, only cares about superiority, he wants to be the best, he wants to be the strongest, he wants to help reform the Flametongues back into the greatness that he believes they once were. As it stands he is saddened by what the Flametongues have been reduced to, scampering about in the dark of the night trying to avoid the puny humans that would seek to wipe them off of the map completely.
When Khamat is around his own kind he feels at ease, he is with people whom he trusts and who trust him, but around humans he will become more aggressive and more on edge as he believes that humans are scum, they have tried to destroy the Skaldi and now they themselves should be destroyed. He seeks to restore the Skaldi above all else, and will go to almost any means to get there, even if it means his own life should be lost in the process.
But this does not mean he is reckless by any means, no he is cold and calculating, happy to slaughter whole villages if it will help him further his plans, he thinks things through incredibly carefully before he takes any action but when he decides to do something he doesn't half-ass it. He goes all out. The only thing that he shows any warmth or compassion for is his clan, he weighs each of their lives heavily and it hurts him deeply when even one is lost, his wife though he cares about more than any other individual, she is his closest friend and advisor, the one that he can confide everything to and rely on to tell things to him honestly even if honesty wasn't what he wanted to hear. When he is around his wife the facade drops, instead of being a large intimidating figure he is a caring husband with the weight of a whole clan on his shoulders.
As far as Skaldi outside the Flametongue's are concerned, he will treat them as long lost brothers, he is not for the idea of Skaldi fighting other Skaldi as he believes that there are few enough of them as there is, and killing another Skaldi would just be doing the human's work for him.
As far as Humans are concerned he is primarily all for slaughtering them all and killing them, but he reasons that somehow and somewhere there must be at least one that sees what is happening and will try to stop it, the humans are either with him or against him, they are useful to him or they are not useful. And if they're lucky....he might just let them live.
History: Khamat was raised by his father, Karak, and his mother, Chi-itza. Both were strong Skaldi, well respected among the clan for their bravery and their knowledge, but they were distraught at what their clan had come to, they saw over the decades how they were dwindling and dying out, yet as was their duty they still bought a child into the world.
They treated him harshly, yet fairly, tempering him as one would a sword, teaching him how to survive and how to life, making sure he knew that they were not the same. He was told stories of how things used to be, how the Skaldi used to be the greatest race in the five kingdoms, how they spawned the greatest warriors and held a large swathe of land, how numerous they were and how men cowered in fear of them. But that was not so now, now they scurried about in the night like vermin, constantly on the move evading organised hunting parties that came for their blood. Now they lived in fear of being captured and enslaved, or killed, now they were a minority struggling to survive and fighting fiercely for the right to do so.
Khamat grew up never staying in the same place for to long, living in the nomadic ways of the Flametongues as they struggled to survive, each morning he would awake in a completely new place, unsure of where exactly they were but hoping that they'd be safe. He lived in hope though, that the Skaldi would survive, that they would grow and become what they once were, that they would regain their former glory and position as a major race in the five kingdoms. Yet each day all he saw was them slowly degrading, more of their number dying to the harsh conditions they lived in, not enough hatchlings to cover the losses, they were slowly but surely dying out.
The chieftain, Svarak Ironhide,in this matter, was useless. He thought that facing the humans was useless, instead they should flee, stay away from the humans and their power, keep out of sight and try to make a new life for themselves further away, but Khamat knew that eventually if they carried on there would be nowhere left to run. The chieftain was getting old, and in his age he was getting soft, and so once Khamat turned 18 and had fully grown into his manhood he challenged Svarak to fight for leadership of the clan, to fight to the death. Svarak accepted.
When the time came to fight, Khamat stepped up to fight the chief, expecting an easy victory he lunged at Svarak, just to be grabbed in a giant claw and slammed into the ground, Svarak pounded a foot into the back of Khamat's head before turning his back on him. "I may be old, but age grants experience, you are young so i will let you live."
Khamat was in a daze, he had lost, and what was worse was that Svarak had let him live in shame instead of giving him the death he deserved. But instead of giving up, he continued, he had been forged into a weapon, all his defeat had done was shown him that he was not sharp enough. So Khamat carried on, he trained hard, each day his hands bled, the skin on his knuckles was shredded and bleeding, he carried on till his legs gave way and his arms lost all feeling.
His parents meanwhile urged him to stop, he was destroying his body in the process, he was destroying himself, yet he was blind to them, for in his mind this was worth it if he could defeat Svarak, if he could take control of the clan.
And so it was that when Svarak and Khamat stepped up to fight again five years later, Svarak was five years older, and Khamat was five years more experienced. This time, Khamat moved slowly towards the elder Skaldi, feinting several times before finally swinging a fist into Svarak's midriff, to fast for him to even react before sweeping out the chief's feet so that he landed on his front. Khamat placed a foot on the chief's back and leaned down close so that only Svarak could hear. "You are old. So I will let you live".
From that moment on Khamat was in charge, and he instantly began turning them into a respectable clan and hoping it'd be enough to bring back their glory.
It was during this time that a mate caught his eye, a young female Skaldi called Inzila, she was strong willed, happy to speak her mind and challenge him when he did wrong, she was perfect for him. She would help him to shape the Flametongues into what they needed to be.
The time when the Skaldi would rise up once again is coming, be ready.
Name: Khamat
Race: Skaldi
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Height: 11'2"
Weight: 765lbs
Eyes: Brown
Hair: N/A
Class/Occupation: Fighter/Lord (Chief)
Nobility: Chief
Starting Morality: Black Hearted
Faction: Flametongues (leader)
Languages: Sissak
Appearance: Khamat presents a large hulking figure, standing taller than most Skaldi and packed with muscle he can be rather intimidating to most people, his scales are a dark orange colour whereas his underside is a dark cream colour and his entire hulking form is covered in scars of a variety of shapes and sizes. Down his back Khamat has a series of short spines that go all the way from the tip of his head to the end of his tail, the spines all being white black at the base but fading to white at the tips. On the end of each one of his fingers or toe there sits a deadly, wicked looking claw that looks as if it could disembowl a man with a single touch.
Khamat usually wears a pair of incredibly ragged looking leather shorts that are standard issue to any male in the clan, they are well worn from constant use but they are all he has.
Personality: Khamat, as is normal amongst Skaldi, only cares about superiority, he wants to be the best, he wants to be the strongest, he wants to help reform the Flametongues back into the greatness that he believes they once were. As it stands he is saddened by what the Flametongues have been reduced to, scampering about in the dark of the night trying to avoid the puny humans that would seek to wipe them off of the map completely.
When Khamat is around his own kind he feels at ease, he is with people whom he trusts and who trust him, but around humans he will become more aggressive and more on edge as he believes that humans are scum, they have tried to destroy the Skaldi and now they themselves should be destroyed. He seeks to restore the Skaldi above all else, and will go to almost any means to get there, even if it means his own life should be lost in the process.
But this does not mean he is reckless by any means, no he is cold and calculating, happy to slaughter whole villages if it will help him further his plans, he thinks things through incredibly carefully before he takes any action but when he decides to do something he doesn't half-ass it. He goes all out. The only thing that he shows any warmth or compassion for is his clan, he weighs each of their lives heavily and it hurts him deeply when even one is lost, his wife though he cares about more than any other individual, she is his closest friend and advisor, the one that he can confide everything to and rely on to tell things to him honestly even if honesty wasn't what he wanted to hear. When he is around his wife the facade drops, instead of being a large intimidating figure he is a caring husband with the weight of a whole clan on his shoulders.
As far as Skaldi outside the Flametongue's are concerned, he will treat them as long lost brothers, he is not for the idea of Skaldi fighting other Skaldi as he believes that there are few enough of them as there is, and killing another Skaldi would just be doing the human's work for him.
As far as Humans are concerned he is primarily all for slaughtering them all and killing them, but he reasons that somehow and somewhere there must be at least one that sees what is happening and will try to stop it, the humans are either with him or against him, they are useful to him or they are not useful. And if they're lucky....he might just let them live.
History: Khamat was raised by his father, Karak, and his mother, Chi-itza. Both were strong Skaldi, well respected among the clan for their bravery and their knowledge, but they were distraught at what their clan had come to, they saw over the decades how they were dwindling and dying out, yet as was their duty they still bought a child into the world.
They treated him harshly, yet fairly, tempering him as one would a sword, teaching him how to survive and how to life, making sure he knew that they were not the same. He was told stories of how things used to be, how the Skaldi used to be the greatest race in the five kingdoms, how they spawned the greatest warriors and held a large swathe of land, how numerous they were and how men cowered in fear of them. But that was not so now, now they scurried about in the night like vermin, constantly on the move evading organised hunting parties that came for their blood. Now they lived in fear of being captured and enslaved, or killed, now they were a minority struggling to survive and fighting fiercely for the right to do so.
Khamat grew up never staying in the same place for to long, living in the nomadic ways of the Flametongues as they struggled to survive, each morning he would awake in a completely new place, unsure of where exactly they were but hoping that they'd be safe. He lived in hope though, that the Skaldi would survive, that they would grow and become what they once were, that they would regain their former glory and position as a major race in the five kingdoms. Yet each day all he saw was them slowly degrading, more of their number dying to the harsh conditions they lived in, not enough hatchlings to cover the losses, they were slowly but surely dying out.
The chieftain, Svarak Ironhide,in this matter, was useless. He thought that facing the humans was useless, instead they should flee, stay away from the humans and their power, keep out of sight and try to make a new life for themselves further away, but Khamat knew that eventually if they carried on there would be nowhere left to run. The chieftain was getting old, and in his age he was getting soft, and so once Khamat turned 18 and had fully grown into his manhood he challenged Svarak to fight for leadership of the clan, to fight to the death. Svarak accepted.
When the time came to fight, Khamat stepped up to fight the chief, expecting an easy victory he lunged at Svarak, just to be grabbed in a giant claw and slammed into the ground, Svarak pounded a foot into the back of Khamat's head before turning his back on him. "I may be old, but age grants experience, you are young so i will let you live."
Khamat was in a daze, he had lost, and what was worse was that Svarak had let him live in shame instead of giving him the death he deserved. But instead of giving up, he continued, he had been forged into a weapon, all his defeat had done was shown him that he was not sharp enough. So Khamat carried on, he trained hard, each day his hands bled, the skin on his knuckles was shredded and bleeding, he carried on till his legs gave way and his arms lost all feeling.
His parents meanwhile urged him to stop, he was destroying his body in the process, he was destroying himself, yet he was blind to them, for in his mind this was worth it if he could defeat Svarak, if he could take control of the clan.
And so it was that when Svarak and Khamat stepped up to fight again five years later, Svarak was five years older, and Khamat was five years more experienced. This time, Khamat moved slowly towards the elder Skaldi, feinting several times before finally swinging a fist into Svarak's midriff, to fast for him to even react before sweeping out the chief's feet so that he landed on his front. Khamat placed a foot on the chief's back and leaned down close so that only Svarak could hear. "You are old. So I will let you live".
From that moment on Khamat was in charge, and he instantly began turning them into a respectable clan and hoping it'd be enough to bring back their glory.
It was during this time that a mate caught his eye, a young female Skaldi called Inzila, she was strong willed, happy to speak her mind and challenge him when he did wrong, she was perfect for him. She would help him to shape the Flametongues into what they needed to be.
The time when the Skaldi would rise up once again is coming, be ready.
