An Epic

War Jarl Malcall Grimson


Human Bbn 17: CR 17; ECL 17; Size M; HD 17d12; hp 149; Init +8; Spd 80 ft (base 70 ft); AC 26, touch 17, FF 22; BAB +17/+12/+7/+2; Grapple +21; Atk: +17/+12/+7/+2 melee (1d3 + 4, Unarmed), +20/+15/+10/+5 melee (1d6 + 3, Sword, short +1 (Bane)), +20/+15/+10/+5 ranged (1d4 + 1, Dagger +1), +21/+16/+11/+6 ranged (1d8 + 3/crit x3, Longbow, mighty (+3 Str) composite), +20/+15/+10/+5 melee (1d8 + 7/crit 19-20, Longsword +3 (Defending, Frost)), +18/+13/+8/+3 melee (1d8 + 4, Drow War Gauntlet MW), +18/+13/+8/+3 melee (1d8 + 2, Drow War Gauntlet MW); AL CG; SV Fort +10, Ref +9, Will +4; Str 18, Dex 18, Con 10, Int 10, Wis 8, Cha 8.

Languages spoken: Kelevan, Anarian

Skills and Feats: Balance +10, Climb +13, Handle Animal +0, Hide +7, Intimidate +5, Survival +2, Jump +21, Listen +19, Ride +6, Spot +9, Tumble +10, Perform (Act) +2; Armor Proficiency (Light), Armor Proficiency (Medium), Armor Specialization, Endurance, Improved Critical, Improved Initiative, Improved Two-Weapon Fighting, Improved Unarmed Strike, Martial Weapon Proficiency, Power Attack, Shield Proficiency, Simple Weapon Proficiency, Two-Weapon Fighting.

Possessions: Chain shirt +3, Ring of freedom of movement, Ring of sustenance, Periapt of wound closure, Royal outfit, Horseshoes of speed, Mighty longbow (+3 str) composite, Throwing axe, Short +1 sword (bane), Dagger +1, Boots of striding and springing, Amulet of natural armor +2, Longsword, Bastard sword, Traveler's outfit, Ring of protection +3, Belt of giant strength +4, Longsword +3 (defending frost), 2 Drow war gauntlet mw, Horn of goodness/evil.

Malcall is an Anar, a barbarian from the cold lands that lie to the south of the Kelerak Mountains. He grew up in the village of Svenhiem. He is of the Hildolfar peoples, whose totem animal is the wolf. The son of the commoners Grim and Sigrid, Malcall was always a troubled soul. Given to tumultuous rages, strange depravities, and whimsical fancies, the large Northman was strange even to his uncivilized relatives. Few dared tell him this, however, for Malcall was always a fierce and berserk fighter, distinguishing himself in raids against the Cavebear Clan. As he bent to muse over the first daisy of springtime, the son of the Chieftain of the village of Svenheim insulted him, calling him a woman. Malcall flew into one of his already famous berserk rages, beating the Chieftain's son with his great fists to within an inch of his life. Caught and brought before the 'ting,' the thirty-six jurors declared Malcall an outlaw and sentenced him to exile. Yet out of pity for the grave insult with which he was faced, they put a span of one year on the ravager's exile. Malcall thus left his village to seek his fortune in more civilized lands.

Malcall, a dirty, hairy, hulking man, is a strange character. He is steadfastly loyal to his friends, even going so far as to risk his life for them continuously, yet he constantly insults them. The ravager has a depraved side to his personality as well, for he collects "body part" trophies from his many kills. Given to asking his prized shrunken heads for advice, it is likely that Malcall is slightly touched in his own head. Yet his companions, the Lords of the West, swear that he is the man to have by ones side in a fight (yet not in a tent, because of the smell). In 8171, Malcall grew in terms of character, taking on more responsibility. He went North and in an attempt to unite the tribes against Afej the black, was named War Jarl of his people.

Malcall's Speech to the 'Ting' in his bid to become War Jarl

"I have returned to my homeland not to beg for forgiveness for past deeds. Last time I came to these lands things were said and deeds done that cannot be undone. I cannot take back those actions and by coming here I know that I have broken our laws. I have no fear towards the punishment I will receive for disobeying the 'ting', for you see their will be no punishment! I had to come for the sake of our people and the men of Dragonspur. I had to come and bring our people together.

My Earls, the Lords of the West, and I have just traveled from the Troll Pits of Hestor. In that evil place we faced Dargon Skullcrusher and his minions. We fought and fought and for a time it appeared that we would never leave that place alive. My life was brought to the edge, but once again fate smiled upon me and upon all of us. After that battle when we had time to reflect I realized that with all our might and powers we, the Lords of West, may not be able to stop this great evil that haunts our lands. I do not want you to believe that I speak out of fear or cowardice; oh no, I am speaking from experience. I have faced the great blue dragon Skywing and he was defeated. I have fought in the halls of Lust Fort and the Deep Mines Passage and left undaunted in my quest. We have stood under the shadow of the Spur and faced thousands of enemies from all sides and still my faith held. Then, not a month ago, we faced the Lord of Lust and we vanquished him forever. None of these events pushed us to our limits as much as those evil pits did. This one event has opened my eyes to the evil that surrounds us.

As we speak, the men of the south are fighting for the fate of us all. We have fought by their sides; we have watched the men of the south give their lives to defeat this evil. Do you know what I thought as I watched those men fight and die? Where are the great Northmen? Where are the mightiest of the human races? Where are the Northmen that toppled the great city of Dragonspur under the leadership of Wodene the Great? Where were my people indeed? I will tell you. You were sitting up here growing fat and old and fighting between yourself like a bunch of children. What would Wodene think of this? What would our great lord Steppenwolf think of our current state? What do you think will happen when the Green Throne falls to the Lords of Sin? The tides of war will flow north. A great wave will fall upon our lands. When the waters recede, all that will be left of the great Northmen will be dirt and ash. Divided we do not have the strength to fend off this growing evil. Only together as one tribe do we stand a chance, one tribe as in the days of Wodene. I have come to join the clans together. I know that each of you is a strong, proud man, but if what I have said here has had not stirred you, then I ask you not to follow me, but to follow this: the great sword Angrim the Cold, the sword that Wodene used many, many years ago to rally our people together. Follow this! Fight for what this sword stands for. Believe in this sword; believe in our people. Help me bring hope to the men of the south. If we do not aid them now we are condemning thousands of their people and ours to slavery and death. This sword has the power to bring peace to this land. The spirit of Wodene still lives through his sword. I have felt it flow through me and guide my hand to victory over and over. With Angrim and the might of our people united we will quench the fires of the enemy, and out of that smoky darkness of war will come the light of peace, peace for our people and peace for all of the good people of this world. So I ask you, Wise Jarls and Earls, what shall your fate be? Will you follow me and our people into battle as one tribe, or will you sit here and await annihilation?"