Name: Tiberius Stormsong
Appearance: Tiberius gives an appearance that could initially be mistaken as muscular, but closer inspection reveals that he’s honestly just big, and not in the best shape. At 6’1”, he is taller than most, but by no means a giant. Tiberius prides himself on his shoulder-length black hair and goatee, both of which he keeps in immaculate condition and frequently obsesses over. He is typically seen wearing light plate armor, not because he particularly needs it, but because he simply doesn’t own any decent clothes at this point.
Personality: Tiberius is generally a nice guy. He’s an obnoxious drunk and has a crippling opium addiction, but past that he’s not terrible to be around. While he can be overly sociable around just about anyone, he tends to become timid at the first sign of action. Tiberius will pursue something he truly wants past the point of insanity, but has a habit of half-assing anything else. In a team setting, he typically considers himself to be more of a “brains guy”, preferring to create plans than to actually carry them out. Unfortunately, his plans usually range anywhere from ill-conceived to downright terrible. He fancies himself to be deep and artistic, and while that may even be true, he’s terrible at expressing it. Not for lack of trying, mind you, but he makes a fool of himself more often than not. The simplest reason for this is that he is not very good at dancing. Typically, his "dances" will look, to the casual observer, more like awkward spinning than any real sort of art.
Tiberius is not a fighter by nature. He's more fond of talking his way out of danger than killing. That's not to say he has anything against a good slaughter, mind you; it's just a lot of effort, and Tiberius realizes that he'd be on the losing end more in most circumstances.
Background: Tiberius was born in a frontier town in the northern reaches of the Holy Roman Empire, during the reign of the glorious emperor Charlemagne. Tiberius’s father was the captain of the town militia, and dreamed that his son would one day take on his duties as defender of the people. Unfortunately, Tiberius had different plans. Early on he knew that, beyond anything else, he wanted to be an interpretive dancer. Despite his father’s best efforts to make the boy a soldier, Tiberius applied to the Frankfurt Bard’s College as soon as he was old enough. This is when he found out that his father had been right about one thing: Tiberius was, in fact, a terrible dancer. When the college rejected him, it left a void in his soul. He then set about filling this void with alcohol and opium, the latter of which he became severely addicted to.
Tiberius quickly discovered that opium was an expensive habit, and reluctantly agreed to sign on under his father’s command in the local militia. He was 16 years old at the time. During his service, he learned basic combat skills, swordplay, and some general strategy and tactics. He made money on the side half-finishing odd-jobs around the town, and accepting literally any bribe that was offered to him (so long as it didn’t require too much work). Tiberius was almost caught several times doing this, but his status as the captain's son discouraged any investigation against him. He never gave up on his dream though, and he practiced dancing alone in his room every night (but only on the rare occasions when he wasn’t blacked out at the local tavern). This was the cause of much disagreement with his father over the years, as the captain wanted Tiberius to focus that energy in to his swordsmanship. Or, if nothing else, to stop drinking himself into a coma so often.
At age 24, Tiberius met a beautiful young woman at the town market one day. Despite his countless flaws, she inexplicably fell in love with him. Shortly after, she informed Tiberius that she believed herself to be pregnant. For reasons completely unrelated to this, Tiberius then decided that to become a man, he needed to make a journey alone to see the four corners of the empire, not knowing if or when he would ever return. His father respected his decision, and gave him his best sword and horse for the journey.
Tiberius lost the horse less than a week later. Among other things, Tiberius is terrible at tying knots.
Continuing the journey on foot, Tiberius chose his first destination to be the capital city of Frankfurt. However, due to some poor directions from a mean-spirited farmer, he soon found himself in the land of Denmark. The Danes, not known for their hospitality or fondness of Germans, took Tiberius prisoner and sentenced him to public beheading. By chance, however, a guard found Tiberius' fiddle while searching his belongings, and showed it to the village Jarl. The Jarl assumed Tiberius to be a bard, and gave him a chance to live. If Tiberius could entertain the Jarl for the evening, his life would be spared. He played his best for the Jarl, and danced only slightly out of time with his reel. The Jarl found the song to be mediocre and the dance to be horrendous, but something about the desperate display touched his frigid heart. He declared that Tiberius would stay as a guest in the Jarl's court until he could perform the viking song of winter, along with the accompanying dance.
The song of winter is a fairly simple song, and the dance consists primarily of rhythmic foot-tapping. Despite this, Tiberius took a full three weeks to learn it. This was not helped by the abundance of face-smashingly strong alcohol available within the village. Compounding the issue even further, Tiberius discovered that the opium trade has not found it's way this far north yet, and he suffered wracking withdrawals throughout his stay. But against all odds, Tiberius learned the song, and performed for the Jarl at a great feast. The Jarl found the song and dance to be adequate, and granted Tiberius his freedom.
Once out of Denmark, Tiberius made a note on his map to never return to the frozen hellhole again. He continued his journey south to Hamburg, where he encountered a band of traveling minstrels. After more or less begging to join them, the troupe accepted him into their ranks and set forth for Dresden. There he ruined many a performance with his lack of talent and his general aversion to hard work. Deciding that Tiberius had no place among the minstrels, they robbed him in the night and headed toward their next destination, leaving Tiberius in a ditch on the side of the road, drunk and penniless.
Tiberius saw this as a wake-up call, and vowed that he would regain his wealth and continue his journey. He swore that from then on, he would be a hard, honest worker. Unfortunately, this vow lasted all of a day before he realized that he really just did not have it in him. And so for the next three years he lived in a room at the tavern, doing odd jobs around the city to pay for rent and booze. Being too lazy to work, and too honest to steal, it seemed that Tiberius would spend the rest of his days living in that room above the tavern. But he was content. He didn't have a child to raise, and drinks were always just a walk down the stairs away.
Strengths:Tiberius is a good listener, so long as he’s sober. He’s also decent with a sword. Not great, mind you, but he knows which end is for stabbing. He can even cook to a certain extent. Most importantly, Tiberius Stormsong is lucky. Usually. He’s rubbish at gambling. He can also play the fiddle reasonably, but that’s rarely gotten him anything past a free drink or two.
Weaknesses: Burning, crushing, impalement, you name it. Tiberius Stormsong is, by most descriptions, an average human. The remaining descriptions would call him a below-average human. He gets confused easily. He has a tendency to wake up in random places with an earth-shattering hangover, not remembering how he got there. He’s terrified of anything with more than four legs and open water. He doesn’t understand numbers with more than three digits. In short, he is a failure in more ways than could ever be listed.
World: Early 9th century Europe