Fire breathing barbarian axe man


Tall and powerfully built, red of scale and dark of eye. Wearing dented and stained scale mail that has seen much use and wielding a huge war axe, Kurgaz makes a daunting first impression. Depending upon one’s ability to read Dragonborn facial expressions, he could be loading up for a song and a laugh, a war cry followed by a frenzied attack, or a face full of fire.


Kurgaz was born to a clan of Dragonborn living in wooded mountains near the coast. His parents were both well known within their clan, his father as a physically imposing and boastful warrior, his mother as a petite but fiery (literally) sorceress. Much to his father’s chagrin, Kurgaz was born with his mother’s red coloration, not his fathers deep black scales. Taken as a slight by the gods, Kurgaz was never able to have a strong relationship with his father as a result.

Even among the dragonborn Kurgaz was viewed as impulsive and hot headed. His temper, intensity, and ferocity seemed to be gifts from his father, while his mothers gifts were more subtle and not as obvious. Getting to scraps is common for all dragonborn children but Kurgaz ended up in more fights than most. His clan of mostly red colored dragonborn were domineering and hyper critical of any weakness they discovered. Kurgaz’s natural outlook rebelled at what he saw as bullies and cowards, and no shortage of disputes and brawls resulted from that.

Kurgaz was never short of friends, however. Naturally easygoing and prone to as much laughter as anger, there were plenty of fights between young members of the clan that ended up turning the two combatants into close friends. Music was another area Kurgaz loved, playing his pan pipes with friends upon a cliff top or singing loudly and as often as possible. Never particularly gifted, he attempted to make up for his lack of skill with sheer effort and enthusiasm.

Growing up rapidly and getting into so many altercations led Kurgaz and his clan to seek their separate ways earlier than most of his peers. Frustrated, full of fury, as well as a natural wanderlust, the young warrior packed his few things and bid farewell to the only home he had ever known. His father was not there the day he left.

Joining the Fighter’s Guild was a goal for Kurgaz as soon as he heard about it. He knew that his great physical strength and athleticism set him apart as a melee combatant, and the legendary Fighter’s Guild was a place where he knew his natural abilities would be appreciated and he could serve and learn alongside other great warriors. But things did not go as planned.

Accepted immediately into their Apprenticeship, Kurgaz threw himself into the martial training with an enthusiasm that made his trainers proud. When it came time to take his newfound skills into squad combat, trouble began.

The Fighter’s Guild prides itself upon its professionalism and its discipline. Its members are renowned for their tactical prowess and ability to fight as a unit. Conformity. Following orders. This style of fighting did not sit well with a young dragonborn warrior with a chip on his shoulder, an impulsive nature, and a highly volatile temper. He was asked to leave the Guild after several outbursts including a brawl involving several officers.

Even more frustrated and feeling as though he had been dealt a bad hand by the Gods Kurgaz wandered for a time before falling in with rough company and taking up Bounty Hunting to make ends meet. Travelling the countryside, meeting a wide variety of people from all walks of life and seeing how the down and out truly lived has been an eye opening experience for the Dragonkin barbarian, and a chance to come into his own as a warrior and an individual.

Now, with years of hard living under his belt and something to prove to everyone, Kurgaz seeks a way forward to new opportunities.


Ylan Salenka