<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong>Weom Whiteclaw of Albadian</strong></span> <br/><strong>10th Level Human Barbarian of the Beastlords<br/></strong> </div><br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">For character sheet click spoiler</span><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">(http://i1221.photobucket.com/albums/dd468/sybakrys/Weom/WeomWhiteclawCSIP1.jpg)(http://i1221.photobucket.com/albums/dd468/sybakrys/Weom/WeomWhiteclawCSIP2.jpg)</div></div><br/><div class="floatright">(http://i1221.photobucket.com/albums/dd468/sybakrys/Weom/barbarian-stern-sternum.jpg)<br/></div><br/>When Weom came of age, he wanted to leave Albadia to seek his fortune. So his father sent him south to do so. Stories of a far away city called Shelzar had for many years filled Weom’s mind. He wanted to go and today would be that day. Already by this time, Weom had made quite a name for himself fighting for sport and fortune. So when he left a good number of his friends and enemies noticed.<br/><br/>He knew that the city was far away and he had been given an old map to follow, should he get lost. He journeyed as far as the Stricken Forest, via the Perforated Plains, until finally he found the river which he was told he needed to follow until he reached the other side of the Hornsaw Forest. He would not make it that far however, as Bandits were waiting for him in the trees. They had plans for this giant of a man, whom they would soon learn was called Weom Whiteclaw. They had followed him since he entered the forest and once he had settled down for the night after several days of trekking, they took him and throw him in a crate. They then put that crate on a boat, bound for the very city that he was destined to go to, the City of Shelzar. Yes this was the place he wanted to go, but he wanted to arrive a free man and not under someone else’s ownership. He would look out of the crate and watch as they took him the rest of the way down the river until finally they arrived many days later.<br/><br/>Images of how he came to be here were then smashed from his mind as the man he was competing with hit him hard in the face with his fists. Now at the mature age of 45, Weom Whiteclaw, found himself, once again in a pit, bloodied and fighting for his supper. Would he ever be free from them, he thought as he returned the gesture by picking up the man and throwing him down on his knee, which almost certainly broke the man’s spine as a load crack was heard followed by a long exhale of air. He really had to learn to focus more. Memories of his past were coming back more these days. Must be his age, he thought. Getting all nostalgic and all. He laughed to himself as the stewards removed the dead or dying contender.<br/><br/>Once he had cleaned himself up and collected his winnings, he headed home. On his way home he spotted that poster again. Wanted Adventures, it said, Long term employment offered. He read on until finally at the bottom of the poster he noted the contact details. Something for tomorrow he thought as he tore the poster from the wall and took it home with him.<br/>