Post by Krom the Unconquered on Jul 20, 2013 15:03:42 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,btable][atrb=width,414,btable][cs=2] Krom the Unconquered "I am Ripper... Tearer... Slasher... Gouger. I am the Teeth in the Darkness, the Talons in the Night. Mine is Strength... and Lust... and Power! I AM BEOWULF!"-Beowulf "You want your name in the Song of Beowulf? You think it should end with me being killed by a Frisian Warrior with no name?" "I am Finn of Frisia, and my name shall be remembered forever!" "Only if you kill me. Otherwise you're nothing."-Beowulf "The warriors of Frisia want to make themselves heroes, my Lord! They want bards to sing of their deeds!" "It's going to be a short song."-Beowulf "For no one - no one in this world can you trust. Not men, not women, not beasts."*Points to sword* "This you can trust."-Conan the Barbarian "Conan! What is best in life?" "To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentation of their women."-Conan the Barbarian "What is this drink? I like it! Bring me another!"*smashes cup to the ground*-Thor [tr][cs=2][style=padding: 10 5 0 5; font-size:9px; font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;] [style=text-align: center; font-family: century gothic; font-size: 16px; border-bottom: solid 2px #222222; margin-bottom: 4px; text-transform: center;]FULL NAME Krom the Unconquered ORIGINS Krom was born during the worst lightning storm of the year, thirty-two years ago, in a small village near the sea on the Northern coast of Hysteria. As wind, rain, and pounding surf roared against the cliffs below his new home, his mother, Britte, passed into Hel's realm from the effort of bringing him into the world. His father, Buliwyf, while disappointed in his wife's death, was overjoyed to have finally been given a son by the gods, especially one that already looked to be so healthy and strong. His early life would be considered rough, even by Viking standards, as his father began training him to withstand pain and fight the moment he could stand on his own two feet. Surprisingly, he took to it with a will. With no mother around, he had one source of affection and approval, and he only received that approval if he did well in his training. Buliwyf, seeing great potential in his son, had decided that he would be the one to truly bring Hysteria to a new, more powerful age, and he taught him accordingly. What mattered most in life was power and prestige. And nothing brought more of either than utterly destroying those who stood in your way. And so he grew, year after year, into a hard, unforgiving, dangerous warrior, who took his father's lessons so much to heart, that he improved upon them. He noted very quickly that all things passed away, no matter how strong they became. Even the deadly dragons could be slain and brought low. However, he knew of one thing that no blade nor arrow or creeping disease could ever lay low: the eternal legends of Viking warriors, heroic or bloodthirsty, that lasted from time immemorial. And so he vowed, with all his soul, to carve a red tale of violence and bloodshed so impressive that it would never be forgotten. You see, he ignored the nobility of the old heroes, the humanity of them, for he had been taught only the strength of sword and axe and muscled arm. It was not long before he was large enough to defeat his own father, the only man he ever spared, out of respect for what he had taught, and struck out on his own. As he went, he collected the broken and wrecked weapons and armor of those he slew, and stockpiled them on a small, rocky island to the North of Hysteria he decided to call the Rock. No one ever said he had a way with names. He traversed Berk and Hysteria, and large sections of Northern Europe, alone and unaided, fighting those worthy of being defeated, always leaving the seeds for tales wherever he went. During his travels, he met Bob, a Bobsled, cook, and smith, who was just crazy enough to agree to work for him, provided he swear an oath never to harm Bob's squirrel, Stinker. It was then his terrifying armor was forged, along with his greatsword Butcher, his greataxe Sunder, and his great spiked mace, Shatterstone, all from the reforged weapons and armor of his opponents. He also met several other like-minded men, all of varying backgrounds and all terribly deadly.  (Created using Heromachine 2.5) There was Gunther the Bloody, a crazed Germanic berserker who possessed even more brawn and girth than Krom, and bludgeoned his enemies to death with his massive fists. Gunther spoke little beyond the occasional incoherent scream of rage, and has been Krom's companion since he managed to knock the big German off his feet.  (Created using Heromachine 2.5) Wolf was from someplace to the West, and looked like no man any viking had ever seen. He was tall, well-built, with a sharp nose, high, striking features, and long, raven hair in which he wore feathers and braids. His skin was like red clay, and his eyes like those of a fierce hawk. He was the best hunter and tracker they had ever seen, spoke little beyond sign language and shrieking, ululating war cries, and could slay a man in full armor with only a small knife while wearing only buckskin leggings and his odd leather slippers. Wolf's skill with strange throwing hatchets of what appeared to be his own design was also remarkable, as was his bond with an actual wolf that almost never leaves his side. In the end, they called the animal Little Wolf to avoid the growing confusion in conversation. Krom gathered them up when they wound up tracking the same dragon and skinning it.  (Created using Heromachine 3)  (Created using Artist's Wolf Creator) Next came Chagatei, from the far eastern lands, an expert archer and horseman, and a terrifying swordmaster with a severe drinking problem and a horrific temper. The only living thing he did not appear to be violently angry with was his horse, Khan. He decided to accompany Krom when he witnessed him outmaneuver an armed rider while still on foot.  (Created using Heromachine 3)  (Artist can be found here: foxstudio.biz/2010/04/26/mongolia-monday-choidog-legendary-mongol-horse-trainer-has-passed-away/) Finally, there was Marcus Tiberius Manus, a strange, dark little man from the southern lands, who talked far too much, womanized with anyone available, and could kill most men with whatever happened to be within reach. He found Krom's behavior amusing and enjoyed tavern brawls alongside him, and he decided that following around a constant source of entertainment and female company wasn't a bad idea.  (Created using Heromachine 3) The lot of them, after some serious infighting which resulted in several near deaths, all went back to the Rock under Krom's leadership, where they enslaved a few dragons to move boulders and stolen stone blocks into place to create a sturdy, foreboding little stronghold that now covered the island. Once it was complete, they slew the dragons for sport in the arena they had created. There they dwell to this day, when they are not out riding to war or raiding a village or causing trouble someplace. Bob lives there full-time, repairing their weapons and armor, cooking for them, and being a bobsled in the winter time. Currently, Krom only sends them out as one when their reputation could benefit from it, and allows every man to make his own decisions in regards to his fate. They are currently seeking out more like-minded individuals, as someday, they plan to bring a war of conquest to not only Hysteria and Berk, but the rest of the world. But for now, various acts of violence will have to do. GENDER & SEXUALITY Male, Heterosexual beyond all means of measure OCCUPATION On occasion, he will fight or kill things for necessary goods, if the challenge is worthy enough. But, most of the time, he kills his own food, or eats whatever Wolf brings back to the Rock. Any drink he requires is given to him by Bob, or is purchased with goods he has collected from the slain. Instead of having an actual job, he spends most of his time training his body and mind for war, or hunting down anything worth fighting. If there is a grand battle afoot, he will most likely be there in the thick of it, hacking his way into Legend and Lore. TRAITS [/style] | |
| [atrb=valign,top][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,207] STRENGTHS: ▪ Krom is incredibly tough and able to withstand blows that would slay normal Vikings. He also tends to completely ignore pain, unless he can use it to make himself angrier. ▪ Krom is also incredibly strong, as his bulging limbs suggest. Wrestling of any variety is strongly discouraged. ▪ Krom is a master of all forms of Viking combat, and has been for some time. Whether it be axe, mace, flail, sword, knife, shield, spear, or bare hands, he is an exemplar of martial skill, regardless of whether or not he faces a dragon or another viking. He is more proficient at his favorite weapons, the axe, the sword, and the mace. ▪ Krom is incredibly athletic and has excellent stamina. Whether it is fighting in his impressive suit of armor, or running for hours on end, it takes time for him to wear himself out. ▪ Krom has roamed far in search of fame, and knows how to order food, the company of the fairer sex, a bed, strong drink, and how to challenge a man to a duel or signal a charge in every language North of the Equator. He never bothered to learn anything else, but can converse slightly with his lackeys in their own languages. All of them speak fluent Nordic. | [atrb=valign,top][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,207] WEAKNESSES: ▪ He is absolutely horrible at interacting with sane, normal vikings, unless blows are being exchanged. He may yet earn the title "Worst Diplomat in History". ▪ He is so large he has a habit of not fitting into spaces a normal human being could, and often breaks things or people by accident in an enclosed space. ▪ He could never effectively ride a horse, ever. He's too big and too rough for that to work. So naturally, he must walk or run everywhere. ▪ His near constant killing has earned him a great many enemies, who often ambush or assault him at various points throughout the day. While he relishes the challenge, someday it will be the death of him. |
| [atrb=valign,top][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,207] LIKES: ▪ Large amounts of manly food(mostly meat) and strong drink. Especially the strong drink. Krom loves his mead. ▪ A good, challenging fight, and his resulting victory. Especially if that victory results in a spectacular public slaying. ▪ Strong, independent, fierce women, who still look like women. Especially when combined with the above two things simultaneously. ▪ The freedom of being so feared and so powerful, that even if somebody tried to tell him what to do, it wouldn't matter. | [atrb=valign,top][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,207] DISLIKES: ▪ He has an utter disdain for any man who cannot fight, and slightly less disdain for those who can only fight poorly. Those in these categories should expect unannounced punches, kicks in the arse, and being thrown out of the way like rag dolls as a matter of course if Krom is in their vicinity. ▪ He cannot stand being pampered. Furniture will be broken and thrown if you try. You also might be broken and thrown. ▪ Coy women. If you're going to come on to him, be blatantly obvious. Don't waste his time batting your eyes, just grab a bicep and cling tight. And don't ever complain when he leaves and you wanted to spend more time with him. Not a good idea at all. Your high-pitched whining and tears will only enrage him. ▪ Pets that serve no purpose but to provide companionship and something to lavish affection on. These animals are in danger of being punted or swatted into the nearest hard surface around Krom. This includes small children, unless they are brawling in earnest. Then he might place bets on who comes out the winner. ▪ NEVER tell him he's had enough to drink, or even look like you might say it. Or even think it. The same thing goes for eating, beating people senseless, yelling like a blazing madman, and wholesale slaughter. Basically, he hates being told not to do what he likes to do. |
| [atrb=valign,top][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,207] FEARS: ▪ Technically, Krom has no fear of anything, living, dead, man, beast, or otherwise. However, his obsession with being the strongest of all suggests he is most likely afraid of being weak or being seen as such. However, to describe his loathing of such things as fear would probably be inaccurate. | [atrb=valign,top][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,207] AMBITIONS: ▪ To be the absolute strongest, the Viking of Vikings, whom none even dare stand against, and whose songs shall be sung for eternity. So far, this has involved butchering any warrior he thinks is tough enough to be worth butchering, as well as any dragon he comes across, and regularly starting all-out mass brawls in public places to kick as much arse at one time as possible. ▪ To find a woman fit enough for him to continue his bloodline with. This is not exactly easy, as most women outright annoy, if not anger, him with their simpering talk and puny flirting. Only those who can strangle a bear while retaining a womanly figure need apply. |
| [cs=2] SECRETS: |
▪ Sometimes, he could really use a good hu-KROM HAS NO SECRETS! KROM WILL DRINK YOUR BLOOD AND SPLIT YOUR SKULL, THEN USE IT AS A NINEPINS BALL!
▪ After slaying so many dragons, he has begun to have an inner understanding and appreciation for the power of the great beasts, and in dull moments has toyed with the idea of finding one powerful enough to become his legendary mount. After all, even in Hysteria there are tales of Hiccup, however fraught with betrayal they may be, and to Krom, infamy and fame are two sides of the same coin.
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[style=text-align: center; font-family: century gothic; font-size: 16px; border-bottom: solid 2px #222222; margin-bottom: 4px; text-transform: center;]OVERALL PERSONALITY
Krom is a very simple, easy to understand man. He always has been. Everything in his life goes toward one goal: the enshrining of his Legend, be it in the minds of men or the blood of his eventual offspring. To this end he is ruthless, cold, unrelenting, and positively lethal. Everything he does is done to the extreme, so that his deeds are more memorable. From the amount of ale he drinks, to the woman he will select as his mate, all goes to the everlasting glory of Krom. His hard, unforgiving lifestyle leaves him short-tempered, morose(unless he's celebrating or has just destroyed someone), and prone to all sorts of near-psychotic behavior. It barely needs to be said that he is not a people person, and even those he fights alongside or employs are merely those he has use for, and he would crush them in an instant if he felt that any of them stood in his way.
Perhaps someday, he will find a woman that suits him, and, however abnormal his attraction to her is, whatever his reasons for wanting her may be, she might teach him the meaning of actual love. Granted, this is unlikely, for any woman to Krom's liking will be at least as unhinged as he is, but, men can dream.
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION
Krom is a 7'6", 247Ilb powerhouse of a Viking. To call him strong is an understatement. Unlike many of his heritage, he is not bulky due to hearty eating, and possesses only a small amount of body fat. Most of his mass is pure, chiseled muscle on top of corded muscle, covered over by a taut covering of weather-tanned skin. This skin, is, of course, covered by innumerable smaller scars and accented here and there by larger ones.[/td][/tr]
One look at his face allows the viewer a chance to quail at their own unmanly visage, for Krom's face leaves nothing to be desired in that department. From the intense, brooding brow and deep set, dark eyes, to the impossibly powerful jawline framed by jet black, wild hair that drops just down to the shoulder blades. When he removes his helmet, EVERYONE swoons. Well, the women do. Men tend to soil themselves and pray to the gods for a face like that, or for protection from that unstoppable chin of his.
(image edited by Redkite)
The lowest volume Krom ever speaks at is akin to the noise two glacier grinding against one another makes. This is generally the level he speaks at, though it will rise closer and closer to his battlecry volume, which is something akin to a host of dragons simultaneously roaring in agony as they are jabbed in the rear by a hot poker. With a volcano erupting for good measure.
When he is not in his armor, he tends to walk around in some hard leather boots, dark pants, hard leather bracers, and his abdominal and pectoral muscles. Shirts are worthless anyway, if he ever got cold(wishful thinking), he'd just wrap up in a bearskin or something.
His armor is the stuff of legend. Massive, bulky, spiked, ridged, skillfully forged, and terrifying, this suit is guaranteed to give children nightmares and grown men yet more soiled trousers. The red cape was more of an afterthought, but does add to the overall ensemble. Like his weapons, it is forged out of the weapons and armor of those he has slain.
(Yes, this is Mordekaiser from League of Legends)
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FIGHT TO THE DEATH
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WEAPON(S) OF CHOICE:
▪ Shatterstone, his massive mace, as long as he is tall.
(again, Mordekaiser from LoL)
▪ Sunder, his massive axe of similar proportions
(Darius from LoL. I needed oversize weapons, so sue me.)
▪ Butcher, his massive sword of similar proportions
(art found here: fc05.deviantart.net/fs39/f/2008/332/4/a/swords_by_marcnail.jpg edited for only sword used)
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FIGHTING STYLE:
▪ lorem ipsum dolor sit
▪ lorem ipsum dolor sit
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KEYWORD IN RULES
barfnbelch
[tr][td][cs=2][style=text-align: center;font-family: century gothic; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 4px; text-transform: center; border-bottom: 2px #222222 solid;]OOC NAME[/div]
stevethedrake
[style=text-align: center; padding: 2 0; border-top: 4px solid 222222; border-bottom: 4px solid #222222; font-family: open sans condensed; font-size: 12px;][b]SERIES[/b], face-claim as CHARACTER NAME made by kromtheunconquered[/div][/td][/tr][/table][/center][/quote]
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