[CONTENT WARNING: Attempted Suicide]
Pykadram Gardwil grew up learning the family business - worship of the Forgefather. The Gardwil family serves the faith with courage and tenacity, sometimes butting heads with nobility in the dwarven capital city of Erdgeist. He took his vows early, learning the basics of many faiths and the rituals and rites of the Forgefather. He probably wouldn't inherit anything from his family, but he had faith that the Forgefather would provide and guide him through life.
He came across as a hothead, absolutely certain in the One True Way of things, and ready to throw down with anyone who challenged his beliefs. He stayed moderate on drink and almost never swore, no matter how passionate his arguments. But one night he had a few too many beers at a party, and he got into a heated exchange with a prince of the Molten Throne. The unnamed prince believed that the clergy served the will of the throne instead of the Throne swearing fealty to the Forgefather as the coronation ceremony clearly showed. Pykadram disagreed. Violently. They found the prince's body the next morning, Pykadram's unconscious hands sill around his throat.
His family's power and influence couldn't save him. The Molten Throne excommunicated him from dwarven lands, escorting him to the eastern border with Dunhill in shackles, then releasing him and telling him never to return. Pykadram walked to the coast, numb with heartbreak and ale-medicated to unconsciousness nightly. He found solace in fighting, when his rage would suppress any thoughts about his past. That got him locked up often as not, which redoubled his depression.
He found a cliff overlooking the ocean and decided the world would be better off without him. His destined life had been denied him, and now he drowned in pain, rage, and guilt. He thought that actual drowning had a certain poetry to it, and hopefully the pain would stop as he returned to the Forgefather's embrace. He guzzled a gallon of strong ale and jumped off the cliff into the bright ocean glittering with dawn's first rays of sunlight.
He awoke on board The Grey Rover, fished from the sea by Qadira Ede, better known as Cutter. He didn't know how to feel. He still felt pain and rage, but now a tough of gratitude as he realized maybe he owed a life debt of service. He discovered that Qadira worshipped her culture's god of the forge, which seemed like a positive omen. Her accented Common couldn't reliably handle more than the first syllable of his name, so he accepted his new nickname of Pike. He chose to live and signed on with the crew, happy to fight for a living and belong again.
After four years on the crew, he holds the rank of Lieutenant under Captain Oya Stormqueen. He always goes shirtless to expose the huge hammer tattooed on his chest and embrace the Forgefather's will in everything he does. He keeps his copper hair and beard in a tight braid while on duty, though he lets it run wild on those rare occasions when he relaxes. He learned how to use a boarding hook to great advantage (treat as a pike in combat), but he prefers his greataxe once he gets into melee. He still holds a blatant disregard for his own life, and he will gladly bleed to defend the rest of the crew. He drinks slightly more than he should, especially when he hasn't fought in a while, but he still never swears no matter how drunk he gets.
Lt. Pike - Pykadram Gardwil
Mountain Dwarf Berserker Barbarian (Level 4) (Acolyte Background)
Str 18 Dex 14 Con 16 Int 10 Wis 12 Cha 9
Athletics +6, Insight +3, Perception +3, Religion +2, Survival +3
Part of T.W.Wombat's #City23 project. See the Fellport Index for all entries.
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