Nodric Vodrin, Lost In Storm

[bastidon]

Character Sheet

Name: Nodric Vodrin

Character Details (Optional)
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Alignment: Lawful Good -> Neutral Good
Class: Spellsword

Literacy
Basic Literacy: Y or N
Magic Literacy: Y or N

Proficiencies
Weapons: While he has been trained to effectively use most weapons, he favors Axes.
Armor: He has spent most of his adult life clad in iron, and is most comfortable in heavy armor.
Items: N/A

Restrictions
Weapons: Most weapons that require dexterity are outside of his wheelhouse.
Armor: N/A
Items: Despite his magical ability, he has a signifigant difficulty learning new spells and can not read tomes in the slightest.

Special Equipment
N/A

Flaws:
Self-Doubt: Nodric is plagued by a pervasive uncertainty about himself. His life has left him deeply unsure of himself and his abilities. He has a lot of soul searching to do

Cumbersome: Nodric's size alone makes him much slower than most people, but his chronic clumsiness makes most feats of grace impossible for him.

On the Lamb: Nodric has enemies with reason to scour the world for him. He regularly looks over his shoulder, expecting his end to find him.

Inarticulate: Some are granted the gift of gab. Nodric simply was not. He is unlikely to say any witty one liners, let alone eloquent speeches.

Reluctant: Nodric has magical ability, but is hesitant to reveal it.

Traits:

Kind Hearted: Nodric is a good man at his core, and he is likely to help those in need

Battle Tested: While no songs have been sung in his honor, Nodric has spent much of his life in combat, and as such, can handle himself well in a fight

Loyal: Nodric has almost always swung his axe in the service of others. Those that gain his friendship are likely to have a life long and staunch ally.

Skills:
Power Smash
Arc
Improved Critical
Pugilism
Weapon Enchant

Backstory:
[spoiler] Henrik Vodrin was a proud man. He was proud of youth, which he spent in the service of his country during a long and bloody war. His deeds in battle earned him great respect. He was proud of his farm, where we retired with his wife after his time as a warrior came to an end. The nearby children would tell tall tales about Henrik, claiming he had slain dragons, killed countless men, and single handedly laid siege to an entire enemy encampment. He did not discourage these fables. He was proud of his family. He and his wife had raised a fine family of warriors; each the very model of an honorable countryman. Except one. The only thing in Henrik's life that he could not say he was proud of, was his good for nothing son, Nodric.

To say Nodric had an unfortunate life was an understatement. Standing at six foot three, he was still the smallest of eight sons. His childhood was mired in inferiority. He wasn't as fast as Rolf. He wasn't as strong Ivor. He couldn't handle a sword as well as Wybjorn. No matter how well he did, his father always had another back to pat.

While he never lived up to his father's expectations, it wasn't until he was 14 that he garnered his ire. Nod and his brothers were wrestling or sparring depending on one's level of brutality. Nod never much cared for these kinds of games, as it inevitably ended with his seven brothers dog piling on top of him. But something much different happened this time. Unexpectedly, a bolt of lighting sprung from Nod's palm, landing squarely on his youngest brother Oleg's chest. While Rolf ran to fetch their father, Ivor and Gael held the "monster" down. Tears poured down Nod's face, as he writhed in fear and confusion.

Oleg was ultimately unharmed and was back to running the fields with his brothers by week's end. But Nod's fate was not so easily mended. It was discovered that he had latent magical potential. A doctor suggested that he be sent to a mage's college or some similar institution, but Henrik made it clear that no son of his would be a robe wearing, book reading, pansy. Henrik and his kinsman had always detested mages, finding magic to be a cowardly way for the weak to match the strong. A short cut. A dishonor.

Because he never was properly instructed in its use, Nod had many more magical outbursts. Little things that did little harm, but with each display, his father's heart grew colder. Nod had cemented his role as the black sheep of his family. He spent a majority of his remaining years at home behind their farm house, chopping wood and avoiding his father.

Still, Nodric grew to become a capable warrior. When war returned to his homeland, he was the first of his brothers to enlist. He longed to escape the cruelty of his upbringing, and perhaps even earn his father's respect. Sadly, Nod would learn that the world could be far crueler than life on that farm could ever be.

His military career was unremarkable. He followed orders well and even earned some minor commendations for bravery in combat. After the war's conclusion, he served as a town guard for a brief stint, before he realized he was woefully unequipped to live a normal life. He had poor social skills before the war and certainly didn't come out of it any more charismatic. Knowing he had no place in a peaceful society, he decided to join a company of mercenaries that past through town, The Shattered-Jaw Society.

It was there that Nodric received his first teachings on how to use his magical talents. The leader of his unit, an Elf named Tegalad, was a war mage and tutored Nodric in how to incorporate magic into his martial repertoire. The two grew close, and Nodric was able to find a home within this group of warriors, each with their own troubled past, each with their own reason to leave home. He finally felt a sense of kinsmanship, a sense of belonging.

(WIP. I still got a solid three more paragraphs before it's done, then I'll go back through and fix shit. Feedback is welcome.)
[/spoiler]

[VonXeno]

I love this character already.