- Joined
- Oct 12, 2021
- Messages
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- Reaction score
- 85
- Points
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Character Information
"Inhale the mighty smog of the great forges," spoke the ancient Harald Eldorskaar, "for only then shall you catch a glimpse of Dauw's dominion." As he uttered these words, he breathed life into his last son, marking his forehead with the sacred image of an Árn tree—thus, he was reborn as a servant of all twelve gods and goddesses. The last of the Eldorskaar family huddled around as witness for it was only every few decades was a new Eldorskaar born, a rare and sacred event that heralded the passing of the old and the coming of the new. The Dwarven family stoked the large furnaces in preparation to begin crafting what would be bestowed upon Kolgr when he came of age and the chosen weapon; a warpick. This symbolic weapon shone a light on the old whilst whispering what was to come.
The Eldorskaars held a long running business in managing a string of forges within the north, competition came and went and wealth came in waves. When Kolgr had been born the forges were on the brink of being closed, his family sold their home to live in their forges to keep them running. His family tightly together created some of the fondest memories for the young boy, through his years he'd often look back at times when he was meddling with his older brothers and cousins, learning the forge, or asking strange questions about the mysteries of Aloria to his aunts and uncles. These formative years led to Kolgr having a sinking curiosity within the back of his head, always thinking there is more behind the veil.
Vesljhetting was an unusual part of Drixagh, and Melos was an even stranger village within its borders. It was situated on the outskirts of the state, and was a cultural melting pot where Velheim, Urlan, and Dwarves all coexisted, a diversity that shaped Kolgr's upbringing. Though most of his friends were Dwarves, Kolgr often ventured beyond his circle, immersing himself in the distinct branches of northern culture. But Melos was even more peculiar—its roots ran deep in purism and Unionist ideals. The origins of this ideological rift in the north remain shrouded in mystery, though whispers abound that Grace, The Custodian, had once blessed the village.
While not directly linked to the Eldorskaar name, the purist ideals permeating Melos drew Kolgr into a personal exploration of Unionist beliefs. His interest, however, was not shared by his family, who all adhered to the Eili Gods, and their disapproval weighed heavily on him. It wasn't until he met a Major of the Lothar Order, infamous for manipulating the youth of Melos, that his perspective shifted. The Major spoke of the horrors lurking beyond Drixagh's borders, and Kolgr, unable to remain passive in the face of such injustice, could not stand by while so many suffered at the hands of the unnatural.
Soon, the Lothar Order began seeking recruits, and Kolgr, eager to act, seized the opportunity. Through a series of covert deals and transactions, he obtained the funds for his enrollment—money his father remained unaware of. Before long, Kolgr left Melos behind, setting his sights on the Helbane headquarters.
As was typical for many Dwarves, Kolgr, a Helbane squire, was already a formidable warrior, his mastery of his birthright weapon outstripping that of many recruits who had never even held a weapon before. Kolgr saw this as his chance to shine, and his peers soon spoke of him not only as a great mentor but also as a fiercely devoted loyalist to the Helbane cause. Deep within Kolgr's mind, he had to convince himself that the path that brought him here was worth it—because if he didn't, everything would be in vain. This drive to justify every step he took became a constant pattern throughout his life, with self-manipulation becoming second nature By the time of his graduation, Regalian pessimism had reached a boiling point. Tensions were high as the once-glorious golden age of Regalia seemed to be slipping away. Kolgr stood at the forefront, a weapon honed for the Empire—a tool to serve a system that had little regard for his kind. His place in the machine was secured, but at what cost?
The Chryant War erupted at a time when the Senate of Regalia was in turmoil, and the Empire found itself reluctantly thrust into conflict with the Essa Empire. The Allar stood no chance against the overwhelming might of the Regalian war machine, but for Kolgr Eldorskaar, this would be the crucible that forged him into a killer. Driven by a ruthless fury, he tore through Allar towns one after another, crossing the line like so many soldiers do in the heat of battle. He fought without truly understanding the nature of war, still a child by Dwarven standards, his innocence lost in the bloodshed.
The Regalian forces blazed a merciless trail to the heart of the Essa Empire, and all that remains in Kolgr's mind are the countless lives he extinguished—both the innocent and the guilty. The faces of those he killed haunt him still, a stark reminder of the brutal path he walked.
When Kolgr returned home, he was no longer the same man who had left, and his family's business was in far worse shape than he remembered. He took time to speak with his relatives, piecing together the events that had led to their downfall. It soon became clear that his older brother, Alf, had been siphoning money from the business to fund his own selfish ambitions—his plan to open a tavern while Kolgr was away.
Enraged by this betrayal, Kolgr rallied the rest of his kin and marched to reclaim what was rightfully his father's. The feud between the two sides of the family dragged on for years, with every absence Kolgr took, seeming to spark a new conflict. Each time he returned, the family was closer to financial ruin.
Finally, a decisive battle broke out between the factions. Kolgr emerged victorious, securing his family's name and their dwindling wealth. But his father, aged and frail, was on the brink of death. With his passing, Kolgr inherited not only the business but the remaining family fortune. Using this legacy, Kolgr expanded the business, building an empire of forges through his travels and military service, turning his father's modest legacy into a thriving industry.
Meanwhile, back at the Helbane headquarters, the legendary beastmasters of old were leading training sessions on taming wild, exotic creatures. It was here that Kolgr encountered Daxton, a fierce, portly manticore hailing from the far eastern lands where the Sihai roam. The creature was notoriously untamable, defying the efforts of even the most seasoned handlers. But Kolgr, driven by the relentless determination typical of a Dwarf, refused to give up. After hours, he would sneak into the headquarters, dedicating himself to training and bonding with Daxton in secret. Over time, their connection grew unbreakable.
Determined to make Daxton his own, Kolgr made a generous donation to the Helbane Chapter, securing the manticore as his companion. To this day, they can be seen soaring together, a testament to the bond they forged through persistence and trust.
The First Songaskian War erupted, and once again, Kolgr stood at its brutal forefront. Alongside his brothers, he sailed to the cursed isles of Corontium, where the tides of war would carve deep scars into his soul. The Lothar Order, desperate to push back the relentless Maysayan forces, suffered catastrophic losses. The faces of comrades, once familiar in the academy, became nothing more than names carved into a grim ledger as death claimed them on those blood-soaked shores. As the remnants of his forces retreated, the Songaskian horde followed, their wrath unyielding. They stormed the Crown City, and Kolgr, now standing amidst the chaos, witnessed war in its most unvarnished form. The crushing weight of reality settled in as he saw thousands of Lothar warriors—brothers in arms—lie dead at his feet. He screamed for backup, for artillery, but the silence that followed only deepened the crushing truth: death was inevitable, but its arrival was often swift, senseless, and utterly unforgiving. In that moment, Kolgr understood what so many before him had failed to grasp—the brutal, unforgiving truth of war. It was not a noble cause or righteous fury, but a ceaseless machine that chewed through lives without meaning. The veil was torn from his eyes, and what was once a man full of purpose became a hardened soul, scarred by the brutal, tragic nature of the world he inhabited.
Kolgr became no stranger to the slaughter that would define the wars ahead. It was all for the Empire, after all—a cause that hollowed him out more with each battle. Perhaps, if he fought long enough, his people might one day matter to the Empire, but it was in those grim moments, when the weight of his actions became too much to bear, that Kolgr felt the most isolated. The thought that everything he'd done—every life he'd taken, every soul he'd butchered—could have been in vain, gnawed at him. His father's gaze haunted him as the carriage carried him deeper into the northern wastes, toward the Helbane. It was a choice that would torment him, but he could not afford to dwell on regret—not yet. With every swing of his warpick, he cleaved through Arken, collecting their eyes not for himself, but to fuel the momentum of the other Helbane dogs—those fierce, unquestioning beasts who thrived on bloodshed. He needed them to see him as one of them, to scent no trace of doubt or hesitation in his heart, lest they catch a glimpse of the turmoil churning beneath his hardened exterior.
After countless battles and wars fought to the brink, Kolgr found himself stationed in the heart of Regalia, a city teeming with politics and power. He set his sights on an old, unyielding dream—to elevate the Dwarven name, to carve a seat at the tables of nobles and government officials, where his kind had never truly belonged. But as his years passed, something darker began to creep into his soul. The Fornoss gods, once distant figures to him, began to speak to him in his dreams, whispering that his time was near. The dread of passing without leaving a legacy—a mark on the world—clawed at him relentlessly.
Kolgr stood at a crossroads, trapped between duty and the gnawing fear that his life had no true purpose. He knew what he had to do. It was almost time to leave the Helbane, to abandon the path others had laid before him, and forge one of his own—one not yet written. He would expand his business, carve out a legacy that no one could ignore, and make the world listen to him. Most of all, though, he would feed Daxton—his fierce companion—knowing that, in the end, the beast would outlive them both, a symbol of the bond they'd forged in the crucible of war. Kolgr would make his own fate. The time for hesitation had passed. Only time will tell now.
- Full Name: Kolgr Eldorskaar.
- Heritage / Culture: Dwarf.
- Age: 75.
- Gender / Pronouns: Male.
- Religion: Fornoss.
- Occult: N/A.
- Character Occupation: Helbane Knight, Businessman.
- Eye Color: Brown.
- Skin Color: White.
- Hair: Ginger.
- Height: 4'6".
- Body Type: Stocky.
- Hobbies and Talents: TBA.
- Languages: Common, Barruduh.
- Dwarves gain +1 Main Defense Stat while another Dwarf is within a 5 block range, which can break Cap up to 11. This mechanic can stack up to a +2 bonus.
- Dwarves are barely affected by Alcohol that gets other people drunk, needing insanely high proof, and always being able to keep their drinks down.
- Dwarves have perfect vision (night vision) underground and in dark surroundings, needing no light.
- Dwarves are masters of the forge, able to perform feats of metallurgy in half the time of other craftsmen. Additionally, any metal item that a Dwarf produces is considered master class when compared to others.
- Due to their vast understanding of architecture and metallurgy, Dwarves may gain additional insight from event items that may not be obvious to others (inquire with DM/Event Hoster for opportunities).
- Possible extinction or Racial integration among Ailor is a constant concern for the Dwarves, and one that has led to many disastrous attempts to reclaim the old homeland, as well as the creation of fringe terrorist groups of Dwarves who inflict their rage on the world. The majority of the Dwarves however are far more focused on attempting to salvage what they can, and mostly finding wealth in what others consider scrap. Dwarves are the perfect salvagers, able to fix up broken and discarded weapons and tools in no time, and even repairing technology mid-combat. Their ingenuity especially shines in moments where odds for them look bleak, giving rise to their sturdy reputation.
- Forneik Knights gain +2 Main Combat Stat (break cap to 11) against opponents that are in a Monstrous Transformation. They also gain options during Monster Hunt events (consult with DM).
- Strength: 7 (ATK roll /17)
- Veteran Point Buy
- Veteran Antimagi
- Veteran Demonspite
- Veteran Trislash
- Veteran Sentinel
- Veteran Parry
- Melee Point Buy
- Technique Parry
- Diving Tackle
- Constitution: 5 (DEF roll /16)
- Training Point Buy
- Iron Will (Dwarf)
- Shielding Point Buy
- Shield Deflect
- Shield Slam
- Shield Taunt
- Shield Snare
- Shield Block (Free)
- Intelligence: 1
- Hook Shot. (Dwarf)
- Faith: 2
- Kneeling Prayer
- Guidance Prayer
- Kolgr is a new Bloodcast Knight.
- Kolgr is an ex Lothar.
- Faith has become a strong component in the man's life. If you are someone who wants to know more about the Fornoss faith or practice with him in his rituals you can find him at the Eili temple.
- Business has driven the Eldorskaar's name far into wealth. If you want to make deals/transactions/or want to know more, you can find Kolgr at The Jackal & Raven in Fairbanks.
- Kolgr is a master of beasts and loves animals. If you need a pet, or help training said pet, you can call for the man to help.
"Inhale the mighty smog of the great forges," spoke the ancient Harald Eldorskaar, "for only then shall you catch a glimpse of Dauw's dominion." As he uttered these words, he breathed life into his last son, marking his forehead with the sacred image of an Árn tree—thus, he was reborn as a servant of all twelve gods and goddesses. The last of the Eldorskaar family huddled around as witness for it was only every few decades was a new Eldorskaar born, a rare and sacred event that heralded the passing of the old and the coming of the new. The Dwarven family stoked the large furnaces in preparation to begin crafting what would be bestowed upon Kolgr when he came of age and the chosen weapon; a warpick. This symbolic weapon shone a light on the old whilst whispering what was to come.
The Eldorskaars held a long running business in managing a string of forges within the north, competition came and went and wealth came in waves. When Kolgr had been born the forges were on the brink of being closed, his family sold their home to live in their forges to keep them running. His family tightly together created some of the fondest memories for the young boy, through his years he'd often look back at times when he was meddling with his older brothers and cousins, learning the forge, or asking strange questions about the mysteries of Aloria to his aunts and uncles. These formative years led to Kolgr having a sinking curiosity within the back of his head, always thinking there is more behind the veil.
Vesljhetting was an unusual part of Drixagh, and Melos was an even stranger village within its borders. It was situated on the outskirts of the state, and was a cultural melting pot where Velheim, Urlan, and Dwarves all coexisted, a diversity that shaped Kolgr's upbringing. Though most of his friends were Dwarves, Kolgr often ventured beyond his circle, immersing himself in the distinct branches of northern culture. But Melos was even more peculiar—its roots ran deep in purism and Unionist ideals. The origins of this ideological rift in the north remain shrouded in mystery, though whispers abound that Grace, The Custodian, had once blessed the village.
While not directly linked to the Eldorskaar name, the purist ideals permeating Melos drew Kolgr into a personal exploration of Unionist beliefs. His interest, however, was not shared by his family, who all adhered to the Eili Gods, and their disapproval weighed heavily on him. It wasn't until he met a Major of the Lothar Order, infamous for manipulating the youth of Melos, that his perspective shifted. The Major spoke of the horrors lurking beyond Drixagh's borders, and Kolgr, unable to remain passive in the face of such injustice, could not stand by while so many suffered at the hands of the unnatural.
Soon, the Lothar Order began seeking recruits, and Kolgr, eager to act, seized the opportunity. Through a series of covert deals and transactions, he obtained the funds for his enrollment—money his father remained unaware of. Before long, Kolgr left Melos behind, setting his sights on the Helbane headquarters.
As was typical for many Dwarves, Kolgr, a Helbane squire, was already a formidable warrior, his mastery of his birthright weapon outstripping that of many recruits who had never even held a weapon before. Kolgr saw this as his chance to shine, and his peers soon spoke of him not only as a great mentor but also as a fiercely devoted loyalist to the Helbane cause. Deep within Kolgr's mind, he had to convince himself that the path that brought him here was worth it—because if he didn't, everything would be in vain. This drive to justify every step he took became a constant pattern throughout his life, with self-manipulation becoming second nature By the time of his graduation, Regalian pessimism had reached a boiling point. Tensions were high as the once-glorious golden age of Regalia seemed to be slipping away. Kolgr stood at the forefront, a weapon honed for the Empire—a tool to serve a system that had little regard for his kind. His place in the machine was secured, but at what cost?
The Chryant War erupted at a time when the Senate of Regalia was in turmoil, and the Empire found itself reluctantly thrust into conflict with the Essa Empire. The Allar stood no chance against the overwhelming might of the Regalian war machine, but for Kolgr Eldorskaar, this would be the crucible that forged him into a killer. Driven by a ruthless fury, he tore through Allar towns one after another, crossing the line like so many soldiers do in the heat of battle. He fought without truly understanding the nature of war, still a child by Dwarven standards, his innocence lost in the bloodshed.
The Regalian forces blazed a merciless trail to the heart of the Essa Empire, and all that remains in Kolgr's mind are the countless lives he extinguished—both the innocent and the guilty. The faces of those he killed haunt him still, a stark reminder of the brutal path he walked.
When Kolgr returned home, he was no longer the same man who had left, and his family's business was in far worse shape than he remembered. He took time to speak with his relatives, piecing together the events that had led to their downfall. It soon became clear that his older brother, Alf, had been siphoning money from the business to fund his own selfish ambitions—his plan to open a tavern while Kolgr was away.
Enraged by this betrayal, Kolgr rallied the rest of his kin and marched to reclaim what was rightfully his father's. The feud between the two sides of the family dragged on for years, with every absence Kolgr took, seeming to spark a new conflict. Each time he returned, the family was closer to financial ruin.
Finally, a decisive battle broke out between the factions. Kolgr emerged victorious, securing his family's name and their dwindling wealth. But his father, aged and frail, was on the brink of death. With his passing, Kolgr inherited not only the business but the remaining family fortune. Using this legacy, Kolgr expanded the business, building an empire of forges through his travels and military service, turning his father's modest legacy into a thriving industry.
Meanwhile, back at the Helbane headquarters, the legendary beastmasters of old were leading training sessions on taming wild, exotic creatures. It was here that Kolgr encountered Daxton, a fierce, portly manticore hailing from the far eastern lands where the Sihai roam. The creature was notoriously untamable, defying the efforts of even the most seasoned handlers. But Kolgr, driven by the relentless determination typical of a Dwarf, refused to give up. After hours, he would sneak into the headquarters, dedicating himself to training and bonding with Daxton in secret. Over time, their connection grew unbreakable.
Determined to make Daxton his own, Kolgr made a generous donation to the Helbane Chapter, securing the manticore as his companion. To this day, they can be seen soaring together, a testament to the bond they forged through persistence and trust.
The First Songaskian War erupted, and once again, Kolgr stood at its brutal forefront. Alongside his brothers, he sailed to the cursed isles of Corontium, where the tides of war would carve deep scars into his soul. The Lothar Order, desperate to push back the relentless Maysayan forces, suffered catastrophic losses. The faces of comrades, once familiar in the academy, became nothing more than names carved into a grim ledger as death claimed them on those blood-soaked shores. As the remnants of his forces retreated, the Songaskian horde followed, their wrath unyielding. They stormed the Crown City, and Kolgr, now standing amidst the chaos, witnessed war in its most unvarnished form. The crushing weight of reality settled in as he saw thousands of Lothar warriors—brothers in arms—lie dead at his feet. He screamed for backup, for artillery, but the silence that followed only deepened the crushing truth: death was inevitable, but its arrival was often swift, senseless, and utterly unforgiving. In that moment, Kolgr understood what so many before him had failed to grasp—the brutal, unforgiving truth of war. It was not a noble cause or righteous fury, but a ceaseless machine that chewed through lives without meaning. The veil was torn from his eyes, and what was once a man full of purpose became a hardened soul, scarred by the brutal, tragic nature of the world he inhabited.
Kolgr became no stranger to the slaughter that would define the wars ahead. It was all for the Empire, after all—a cause that hollowed him out more with each battle. Perhaps, if he fought long enough, his people might one day matter to the Empire, but it was in those grim moments, when the weight of his actions became too much to bear, that Kolgr felt the most isolated. The thought that everything he'd done—every life he'd taken, every soul he'd butchered—could have been in vain, gnawed at him. His father's gaze haunted him as the carriage carried him deeper into the northern wastes, toward the Helbane. It was a choice that would torment him, but he could not afford to dwell on regret—not yet. With every swing of his warpick, he cleaved through Arken, collecting their eyes not for himself, but to fuel the momentum of the other Helbane dogs—those fierce, unquestioning beasts who thrived on bloodshed. He needed them to see him as one of them, to scent no trace of doubt or hesitation in his heart, lest they catch a glimpse of the turmoil churning beneath his hardened exterior.
After countless battles and wars fought to the brink, Kolgr found himself stationed in the heart of Regalia, a city teeming with politics and power. He set his sights on an old, unyielding dream—to elevate the Dwarven name, to carve a seat at the tables of nobles and government officials, where his kind had never truly belonged. But as his years passed, something darker began to creep into his soul. The Fornoss gods, once distant figures to him, began to speak to him in his dreams, whispering that his time was near. The dread of passing without leaving a legacy—a mark on the world—clawed at him relentlessly.
Kolgr stood at a crossroads, trapped between duty and the gnawing fear that his life had no true purpose. He knew what he had to do. It was almost time to leave the Helbane, to abandon the path others had laid before him, and forge one of his own—one not yet written. He would expand his business, carve out a legacy that no one could ignore, and make the world listen to him. Most of all, though, he would feed Daxton—his fierce companion—knowing that, in the end, the beast would outlive them both, a symbol of the bond they'd forged in the crucible of war. Kolgr would make his own fate. The time for hesitation had passed. Only time will tell now.
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