Jakob Nighthowler

Jakob Nighthowler


Overview
Race
Canis(Although the picture may suggest otherwise).
Alignment
Lawful Good
Whilst strictly adhering to his own warrior-code, his purpose is ultimately do to good in the world.
Age
43
Birthplace
A medium sized fishing village on the Sword Coast.
Description
Before you stands a figure of a height about five and three quarters feet. As he steps out of the shadow of the building, his features are clearly visible. His face sports angular, almost dog-like features. But that is hardly a surprise, as the black dog ears above his head mark him of one of the Canis. The same can be said of his black tail, swaying back and forth as he walks across the square. His eyes are a vivid green, flecked with orangish gold. The eyes sweep across the square, watching the people. Upon his forehead is a red tattoo, which could be identifiable by the knowledgeable as the symbol of Kossuth. Depending on the day, he will be wearing his battle raiment in part or in full. An undercoat of boiled leather, embroidered with red stitching. Above that is a shirt of ring-mail, gleaming bright in the sunlight. On the rare occasion, usually when danger or battle is near he will done his burnished plate. A fine set of expertly crafted plate armor, it has red veins of enamel hammered into it. It flows about it's wearer like a living thing, looking marvelous when he moves. On all days however, he wears a white tabard over his vestments. It's made of spun silk, and droops down to his knees. It again bears the sign of Kossuth. Fluttering loosely from his back is a fiery red cloak. Strung across his back is a five foot greatsword, held across his back by a leather sheath. At his hip is a well cared for matchlock pistol. It's carved of oak, and inlaid with a pommel of silver. At his hip is a curved dirk, sheathed in a simple oaken sheath. His step shows purpose and self righteousness, an aura of almost chivalric attitude follows him.

History
The waves could be heard splashing gently in the background. The salt was in the air, ever present even in this room. The birthing room of Raneth, a fishing village on the sword coast. Within, a young Canis bitch was whelping her first young with the assistance of the local midwife. The bitch's husband, also a Canis; waited anxiously outside the wooden cottage. He glanced towards him brother, the first mate on his merchant vessel. A weary smile was exchanged, indicative of the lack of sleep both had been experiencing since their ship, The Storm had rolled into port. The brief moment of bonding was interrupted by a bloodcurdling scream from inside the midwife's cottage. There was a moment of eery silence, before another set of sobbing was audible from within the cottage. Both of the men laughed in celebration, embracing each other.

The Storm rolled out of port a few days later, carrying an extra passenger. It meandered along the sword coast, eventually settling within the ships home port town of Kernist. The young Jakob was transported off the ship towards his families farmstead on the edge of town. The whelp remained there for another eight years with his mother, growing into a strapping and eager young boy. When he was nine his father took him aboard his ship to start his apprenticeship. A mere kitchen boy at first, helping with odd jobs and serving as steward to his fathers chambers. When he was twelve he advanced to the rank of midshipman, proud of his accomplishment.. He fit well in the job, settling into the ho-hum pattern of life. The ship sailed between Occitan and Estivon, offloading wares at ports and taking on the occasional traveler. In this way, Jakob learned the knowledge that all sailors do. He became weary of the portside whores, the cut-purses etc. Learned when another merchant was cheating him, learned when the customs officials were asking for a bribe.

The years passed in this way, seeing Jakob well into adulthood. By the time he was twenty five, he was the captain of not just his fathers ship, but two others. He was a successful business man, married to a loving wife and trading with a loyal crew. On one windy night, the trio of ships were sailing out of an Occitian port, slowed by full hulls. Twas not until the corsairs were close did they notice the danger they presented. The trade vessels, wholly unequipped to fight off multiple well armed pirate crews quickly succumbed to invasion. Although not before multiple fires had started aboard. As the pirates began to board, one of the three ships The Integrity's hold was breached. It happened to be carrying a large load of black powder, which didn't respond kindly to being ignited. It promptly exploded, leaving all five of the ships afire and sinking. Jakob was blown overboard in the explosion, instantly unconscious.

He floated in the ocean, bound by dreams. An indefinite amount of time passed, yet for all he knew none had. He was finally awaken from his dreamlike state by the hands of an old, homely, and rather smelly maiden. His first thought was 'How much did I pay for this whore?' followed by the flood of events that had transpired an indefinite time in the past. Pretaining to the exploding ship, naturally. He stared at the maid with a rather confused look, frowning. The maid stayed silent leaving him to his own musings as she exited the room. The room was about the same as the maid. Dank, smelly, and homely.

Countless days were spent in that cell, his only company the silent woman who brought him his food and changed his chamberpot. It was a nerve racking experience, trying to figure out what happened to him. He would shake the woman, scream at her for answers. She looked at him in a dull fashion, no more communication skills then a doll. Eventually he realized that his attempts to communicate with this woman were for naught, and that he was the prisoner of an invisible hand. On the seventh day, the door opened. Through stepped a man of upwards of six feet, garbed in deep red robes. "Who're you?", Jakob asked with a shaky voice "A friend." came the cryptic reply.

The red robed friend introduced himself to be Marcus. He smiled warmly pouring Jakob a glass of wine. "We saw your ship erupt in flames... The brilliant light of the explosion. We thought no one could escape... But here you are. The waves carried you here... Your clothes had seemingly burned off, yet you had not a mark on your body." the man sips his wine, incline his head. "You are at a monastery of Kossuth who is Aten. I am the high priest here... Welcome." he smiles, reaching out to embrace the man.

Weeks, then months passed. At first Jakob was eager to leave, anxious to be gone. The portly high priest consoled him, convincing him to stay through winter. He settled into the ho hum of daily life as a monk. Eat, pray, sleep. He amused himself by keeping up a regiment of exercise, along with writing clever jokes in the latrine. And so it was a week before the solstice, that Marcus came back to him. "Jakob, my friend. In a week we will take part in our greatest celebration. The triumph of Kossuth who is Aten over the night." he smiled softly. "It will be a great night."

For the next week all the monks prepared diligently. They hung banners, sang songs, prepared for a feast. And on the night of the event, they all stood a candlelight vigil, waiting to usher in the dawn. Jakob was among them, clad in simple red woolen robes. Waiting for the dawn. An hour before the Morning Star was to peak above the horizon, Marcus ushered him aside. "With me." he said as he lead him and a few other monks down a huddled cloister, and up to the top of the bell-tower.
As they emerged atop the bell tower, the bright silver of predawn stained the horizon, marking where the sun would poke up over the sea. "One more floor..." Marcus said, climbing up to the top of the tower. There, a large watch-fire was ready to be lit. "And so we usher in the dawn." Marcus declared. Her turned to the three novices in turn "Do you accept the Lord of Light into your hearts? Do cleanse you of sin in the fire so pure?" The three young men looked at each other. The first one, a boy of sixteen piped up "I do!" Jakob paused, nodding "So do I." The third one was more hesitant, "What do you mean?" he asked. Marcus shaked his head "You must be whole hearted in your convictions, my son. If you have doubts, then you will not succeed." The third novice nodded, "I-I'm sorry..." he responded, clambering away.

"And now, we pray." he kneeled down, along with the other men. "Pray to Kassuth who is Aten for the morning dawn. For the fire to cleanse the darkness. Deliver us, your mortal servants from our sin. Temper our souls against darkness, so we may be your ever faithful blades." as he finished the prayer, the watch-fire flares into an inferno all of it's own accord. It's light brilliant in the pre dawn glow. The priest stood, removing two cloaks of virgin lambs wool. "Don these, and be not afraid. The Lord of Light will guide you to righteousness." the two terrified novices donned the cloaks, fumbling with the clasps. "Take each other in hand... And step through the fire." Both of the novices looked at each other with a sense of confusion. But before the chance to utter protest the priest said "Now, or your chance is lost." Tentatively, the took each other in hand, advancing towards the blazing fire. As the approached, they did not feel the heat. And yet, even as they set foot in the fire, there were no burns. Even as their clothing gave fire to the inferno around them, their bodies remained. And all this they experienced in a moment, standing in the fire. And then the priest said "Kassuth who is Aten, show your servants they way. judge them, temper them, make them steel." And then the fire elongated, and they were blind. And the fire pierced their souls, running through their veins. And there was pain, great pain as their souls were cleansed by fire. And then the fire was gone, and they remained. Jakob opened his eyes, witnessing the dawn.

Character Traits and Skills
Character Traits: Assets.
Integral: Jakob is nearly incorruptable, entirely steadfast and devout to his God and his mission. He'd rather Martyr himself then betray what he believes in.
Cunning: His time as a sailor and captain, along with his worldly travels have made him clever and cunning. Along with a little bit of natural intuition.
Righteous: He is a righteous person, and will generally do good(To his point of view).
Character Traits: Flaws.
Zealot: He's a religious fanatic, and zealot. This makes him ignorant towards some fields that contrast with his own.
Merciless: To those he perceives as his enemies, he shows no mercy. No matter the situation.
Emotional: When his blood runs hot, emotions take precedent over reason.

Skills
Swordsmanship:
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Having trained and practiced near on twenty years with greatswords, he's a very proficient and deadly swordsman.
Firearms:
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In a similar manner to his swordsmanship, he's been training for fifteen years with matchlock weapons, and is as proficient as any duelist.
Magic:
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Through years of extended prayer, and training he can channel the power of Aten to accomplish intermediate level spells. These do, however take a lot of his own personal energy, and anything above simple manipulation of fire takes time and effort.

Related Images

His greatsword.

His pistol.

His dirk.