I am a Cimmerian, a barbarian of the far north; born on a battlefield and the son of a blacksmith.
It seems like I grew up fast: by age fifteen I was already a respected warrior, participating in the destruction of Venarium. After this I was struck by wanderlust and began my adventures and travels. I saw a lot of shit; fabulous monsters, evil wizards, and delicious wenches and princesses.
I have traveled throughout the world and been a slave, a thief and outlaw, a mercenary, and commander of a mercenary company, and a pirate and privateer.
I THOUGHT IT WAS TIME TO GET SERIOUS AS A MOTHERFUCKER.
I tried building larger units of men, aiming for greater territorial ambitions, but my efforts were repeatedly thwarted - usually by the total massacre of my force excepting himself, (of course). But in my forties I finally succeed, I became king of Aquilonia, the most powerful kingdom of the age. I strangled the previous ruler on the steps to the throne.
Now I want to mellow out and maybe open a bar or something. My feet hurt and my sword arm is tired. Mind you, not too tired to fuck some wenches and bitches.
