A dragonborn barbarian with some warlord skills. White with cold breath.
HP: 35 AC: 17 Fort: 16 Ref: 14 Will: 14
Weapon: Arkhosian Fullblade
Ikreet was born in a dragonborn warband’s camp located in the [Forest]. His birth was to mark the down fall of his family. His egg was pristine white and it had what looked like the Platinum Dragon’s [Bahamut] symbol. The night his egg hatched was something that had the entire camps attention. For it seemed the very sky watched down to see Ikreet emerge. The clouds were gone the stars bright in the night sky. This was said to be an omen from the Platinum Dragon.
On the eve of Ikreet’s fifth birthday, Ikreet and his father went outside the camp to get some water from a nearby river. Ikreets father was not the biggest or strongest dragonborn. What he lacked in strength he made up for in wit, what he lacked in size he made up for in cunning. His fathers name was Abrynnoc. Abrynnoc was black with a fire breath. He was a captain in the warband under the command of Warlord Grenlit the Steadfast. This mighty warlord earned his name when he single handedly defended a small outpost from hobgoblins. It was like waves crashing on the shore. They were torn asunder by his Arkoshian sword and shield. The water was cool as Ikreet found out. Abrynnoc pushed Ikreet into the river. “Stop messing around” he said with a chuckle.
The attack was started with thundering drums. Many of the camps guards that were on post were silently assassinated. Following behind the assassins were the warriors. It was very chaotic inside the camp. With so few guards to rally the rest it was a slow start for the dragonborn. Ikreet and Abrynnoc got back to the camp as fast as they could. They only encounter a few [Tiefling] scouts. They were easily slain. A third of the camp was engulfed in an inferno. The bodies of slain friends and family were everywhere. “Home, go home to your mother!” Abrynnoc shouted. Father and son part ways. Ikreets mother was a white dragonborn with a frost breath, she was pure. Her name was Lyaow’ryn. Tall and slender she was a cleric of the Platinum Dragon. She was exeptionaly smart, wise, and very beautiful. Many of the dragonborn looked to her for advice about things not pertaining to battle, but about life and sometimes death. She was almost like a mother to the entire warband. Ikreet was to go live with his mother in [a city]. He was to become a cleric. The headless corpse of his mother changed that plan.There was a thump as if someone dropped a small log onto the ground. It was her head. The tiefling that killed Ikreets mother was cackling. He looked at Ikreet with a vile grin and let out a string of profane sounding words. He charged at Ikreet. Ikreet felt something cold inside. Something building up. It was his rage, it was his breath. The assassin did not know what hit him. He was standing there frozen solid. Ikreet pushed him down and shattered the Tiefling assassin. There was no time to cry for his mother. He had to find his father.
The battle Ikreet witnessed was awe insipring as much as it was brutal. It felt very familiar to Ikreet. Its as if he saw this battle before. What feels like thousands of years ago. His father was with Grenlit and a few other guards they were being over run. As four took a stand against what seemed hundreds. The guards were the first to fall, mostly from arrows and magics. Grenlit was the next to fall as three swords were removed from his chest and a final hack removed his head.Ikreet was powerless to help. It was as if something was making him watch, holding him there. Abrynnoc let out a blood churning roar, something was very different about his father. It was if he was the focus of a tornado of steel and fire. The slaughter of the Tieflings was almost pitiful. There was one that remained. This Tiefling was in a strange kind of armor it was as if it moving. No not moving, growing. Made of bone and blood. The Tiefling grabbed Abrynnoc by the head and held him off the ground. They coversed for a moment. Then the Tiefling crushed Abrynnoc’s head, as if it was a ripe fruit. Ikreet collapsed, he awoke in the forest far from the camp. The survivors from the battle. They went to [a City]. Ikreet began training in another warband. His age was not much of a problem he helped with some of the little tasks and trained.