Kingdom of Verdite
A shady-looking human whose skin is adorned in various tattoos, depicting his life's accomplishments.
Backstory, motivations, etc.: Waking from what seems to be a very deep sleep, Zahar has no idea where he is or where he came from. All he remembers is his intense, disciplined training, training that taught him to control his mind and make his whole body a weapon of death. All around him seem to be the debris of a shipwreck, though the name or why he might have been on it remain a mystery to him. His sudden urge to feel SOMETHING besides the intense headache splitting his skull drives him to go in any direction other than the water, at a dead sprint. The first life he encounters since waking stops him. He contemplates what lies before him, a strange and new creature, vibrant in color and seems almost….Soft to touch. But his finely trained senses raise an alarm behind his eyes, that this perplexing creature, is dangerous. It pounces, but his reflexes do everything for him, and before he knows it, it’s dead, life force draining away in the sand. Not enough, so he leaves in the direction he originally departed towards, while something in his head told him that was the way to a ‘good time’.
Arriving at what seemed to be a small town, he was greeted by some not so friendly, but large, bipeds. Not knowing how to react, he remained alert but nonchalant in his approach. The ‘guards’ spoke in a language Zahar did not understand, and when they saw this, they attacked. Quick on his feet and unencumbered, Zahar quickly incapacitated them and took their money, what little it was, though he doesn’t know why he took it. Inside he found a creature that spoke a language he understood, it said that what Zahar did to the guards would not be good, and that he should leave. The creature then told Zahar that he could get him to a place called ‘Verdite’ for a small price. Zahar agreed, and before he could figure out the means of which to pay, he was out. Next thing he remembers is being inside a cage, rolling in some direction, but obviously out of the hot desert and towards a towering treeline.
Ten years later and Zahar has learned the rules of the street, how to scope out a mark, who’s royalty, and who’s just a commoner. Using his highly trained mind and body, he made a small living on the street, as a ‘heavy’ or doing small jobs here and there for the underground. Need someone killed without leaving a mark? Get Zahar. Run a package from here to there without the guards notice? Again, Zahar. Just need somebody to pay up their protection money? No one beat Zahar in that department. His years in these new lands had been good to him, let him be him. Picking fights with men three times his size, outnumbered, outmatched, sources of entertainment for this hard to please man. Women for hire filled his every desire, no matter how sick, twisted or painful. His body a canvas for his accomplishments written upon skin, always with more room for more. When he got word that tension between Heladin and Verdite was growing, his desire to destroy Heladin and her warriors drew. The challenge, the glory, the adrenaline, the risk of death, drew Zahar towards one final conclusion that his whole life would rest on: Fight for Verdite, for now.