CrimsonStar:Harbek

Game: Children of the Crimson Star

Before the Company

Harbek is a rather simple dwarf, and always has been. He grew up in a somewhat poor household, living with his father, Dendor, for a time. His mother was never a part of his life, and he wasn't exactly a planned addition to his father's household. As it was, he knew little about her, and only then what his father had said about her.

Dendor's account of Harbek's mother: "Well, you see son, she was a...somewhat promiscuous lass. Never really intended to start a family, I did. Oh! Not that I don't love you as me own son, given that you are, and all. Still, though, it was more or less a one night fling I had, after a bit of drinkin'. Well...one night and one day, anyway. Fantastic lass...more stamina than a hardened gladiator! Ahem...um, where was I? Oh, right! I meant for it to be a...one and done sorta thing. Well...I say one. But, she was gone the next day. Didn't see her again, save for once. After nearly a good year, she showed back up on my doorstep...not quite alone. I'll never forget what she said to me that day. 'I believe this belongs to you.' Were her words. Just that, and she set ya down on the threshold, turned and walked off. She didn't seem angry or nothin'. Just like it was a bit of business. Now, there was no question about it. You were my son! I could see it in the nose, and you were already showin' a bit of the family psionics. Had her eyes too though. So, 'course I had to keep you."

Harbek had a fairly decent upbringing. His father had been a freelance gladiator, until he lost his hand in a match, and had to retire. He'd managed to make enough in the ring to keep himself comfortable, though the addition of little Harbek put a strain on the finances. Given what his bloodline was, he set out to become a gladiator himself, so that he wouldn't be a strain on his father's finances anymore. He found a small house in need of gladiators, and joined their stables. Since the house wasn't large, the fights never got much attention, but he still performed well.

Like him, and his father before, the head of his house was quite the drinker. After seeing that he wasn't really going to get anywhere in the ring under his current house, he eventually challeneged the head of house to a drinking contest, in which he won his freedom. He had no desire of retiring, so he instead became a freelance gladiator, under tenuous contract with a well-connected manager. There, he slowly but surely advanced in the standings, until he came to the attention of a certain scion of house Svika.

In the Company

After being hired by Megaera, he soon found himself involved with a few other somewhat interesting folks, and what started as a simple gladiatorial arrangement has quickly become much more. He still has fights every now and then, but most of his time lately has been spent having altogether disturbing dreams, usually involving insects and a Mul by the name of Daraek. When awake, he's also recently found himself dealing with insects...a band of black-carapaced Thri-Kreen. He hopes to find out what these dreams mean, and find a way to stop them. They're giving him a bit of a distaste for beer, and that's no good thing for a dwarf.

Star Dream

It is day, and yet the sky and the very air itself is red. You seem to be standing in the Red Tower district. A Dwarven woman is holding a rock over mewling babe. “Don’t do it,” a very young version of your father begs. The woman looks at him. “He is not the one foretold.” Your father looks worried. “I…could take care of him…” The woman looks up impassively. “Then…I believe this belongs to you.” As she walks away, she says, “Don’t contact us again…you are no longer needed.”

The scene changes. It is a huge battle. A massive phalanx is marching forward. Behind are your own troops, and next to you is Daraek. “Well…let’s give our sister a warm welcome, shall we?” you ask, just before you and Daraek charge into the mass of soldiers. Some lose their flesh to the swarms of Daraek, several fall to the ground as your “Way” destroys their mind, and some fall to the hewing of your axe.

Your vision turns to a red light from a star that seems to bleed. You wake up with a tattoo.