Name: Osrik son of Kjartan

Race: Human (Talosian)

Age: Late Thirties

Class: Cleric of Pania

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral - Though often quiet about his faith Osrik has a bottomless supply of zeal. However, he rarely holds to the traditions of his people, having forsaken many of his priestly vows since his exile some four years ago.

Deity: The god and namesake of Osrik’s tribe, Pania, has been a pivotal force throughout his life. As Osrik sees it, other gods are to be held high and respected, but never worshipped - even in the post-Maelstrom climate.

Place of Birth: The Panian Tribelands, Talos.

Physical Description: Osrik is Panian to the core, bearing an appearance typical of his people. He is tall (6’ 1”) and eerily slender, with bowed legs due to a life in the saddle. His face is long and elegant, but has grown gaunt and pale over recent months. There can be no denying Osrik’s noble heritage, his manner is at times reserved, but often punctuated by passionate bursts of emotion – ever clear on his face. What little hair he owns is clearly in an advanced state of balding, with only a thin layer of golden stubble around his ears and the back of his head. His beard however is his pride, a long and neatly groomed item that is often bound at it’s tip by a leather band, decorated by three jade horses. His green eyes are weary and bloodshot of late, in no small part due to a constant flow wine down his throat, and mixed emotions over recent events.

Family; The Royal Clan of Pania, most notably his nephew, the current chieftain; Kjartan son of Jorik.

Background: To understand Osrik’s history in it’s entirety would require days of reading, not so much into events of his own life, but into the history of his entire tribe. He was born the 2nd son of a Chieftain, thus making him the future High Priest of the tribe. In his early childhood Osrik was held witness to a rather bloody war of Succession, one that had been bound to happen since his grandfather, Adalrik, assumed power three-score years before. The war was fought by two combatants, Osrik’s father, Kjartan, and his uncle, also named Adalrik. Osrik’s father put down that revolt in a truly magnificent fashion, breaking Adalrik’s supporters right outside the tribe’s seasonal camp. Osrik watched his father lead Adalrik to the camps centre for a swift beheading. Adalrik’s heirs were hence withdrawn from the succession, and their possessions redistributed to those that had proven loyal. That, however, was not the end of it. Around twenty five years after that first war, hostilities broke out again – ultimately culminating with the assassination of Kjartan. Those held responsible however were not the obvious murderers, but Osrik and his elder brother Jorik. Osrik, they claimed, had sought to kill his father and assert his authority in the form of a theocracy with Jorik as a puppet chief. Osrik’s status as a holy-man saved him from execution, and he was exiled from the tribelands permanently. His cousin, Godrik son of Adalrik, was named Chieftain of the tribe, and ruled with a sadistic iron fist. Of his brother, he heard little. For the next three years he roamed Karos, nursing his wounds and growing ever more bitter. Eventually he came upon the Isle of Pentos, where he found himself thrown head-long into a series of events that would shape Karos’ forever. He has since retaken his homeland, though not in time to save his brother. Now his nephew, Kjartan son of Jorik, sits on the Horselord’s throne. The reclaiming of Talos, however, was not the life changing event he had hoped. His cousin Godrik was not slain by his own hand, but by the once trapped god, St. Cuthbert. The victory felt hollow, and Osrik began a steady decline into depression. He now finds that few things make him happy, even his lover, Nira, holds little attraction to him in these late days.