Terran stood at the top of the last lonely hill, looking out over the Northern Wastes. In the distance was the Citadel of Tarklon, the last bastion of human civilization before the Harwith Mountains. The mountains were home to trolls, goblins and other even more demonic races. Tarklon existed to stem the tide of these evils. Though hardly ever highly organized, raiding parties of goblins and orcs did venture into the human lands.<br/><br/>Terran was here because he had no where left to run. He was an out-lander, despised by Imperial loyalists, for supporting the rebels during the war and scared, with brushes with death, which left peaceful people frightened of him. Only here in the Northern Wastes could he have any measure of a free life left. The Citadel of Tarklon was not a place most went to willingly, and they would take in anyone who could fight, no matter what his or her background or crimes. The only crime there, or so he had been told, was being weak.<br/><br/>Once he had been a farmer. Once he had loved a woman, worked the land and longed for a child which she had seemed incapable of baring. The war had changed all of that. Soldiers had raided his farm for supplies, raped his wife and stolen everything. He had been out in the fields and arrived home to find his wife laying dead, and their home burning to the bloody ground. It was this that had caused him to join the resistance, and to kill every fucking Imperial that he could.<br/><br/>Terran was a tall, heavily muscled fellow with short cropped black hair and a deep tan. Lighter scars criss-crossed his arms and hands, and a deeper scar cut across the left side of his face and the corner of his mouth. He had a Roman nose and a thick goatee, beneath his dark eyes. He was dressed in boiled leather armor, covered over with a thick woolen cloak. On his back was a long bastard sword in a worn leather scabbard. He held the bridle of a sturdy pack pony, which carried all of his earthly belongings.<br/><br/>Looking back, he waited for his small band to catch up. Like him, they were mostly rejects, discarded by society for one reason or another. Like him, they all needed a fresh start and there was not where else to go but North. Hopefully they could muster together some sort of life for themselves here, in the North.<br/><br/>OOC:<a class="postlink" href="https://creativefreedomrpg.com/viewtopic.php?f=23&amp;t=9903">http://creativefreedomrpg.com/viewtopic.php?f=23&amp;t=9903</a>If you wish to join you can write your character bio. IN the game, as I did, but cut and past the main paragraphs to the OOC.  You can also write it in the traditional manner in the OOC.