Igaleichun

Character created by Ian Kass

(a.k.a. Iggy)

Born in the small tribal village of Brook, this Badgerfolk fighter was quickly pawned off for peace as his father, chief of his village, sold him to Xagolae marauders as part of a peace treaty. Eventually he gained his freedom as he grew up, with a scar to remember the pain he was forced through. Now an adult, the badgerfolk lives like most and sails the seas, but with a different goal in mind: a goal of freedom and change.

Physical Description

Facial Features

Iggy is missing one eye and where's an eyepatch.

Specialized Equipment

Iggy's combat style is unique. He knows how to wield a sword properly, with it straight away from him, forward, like a proper pirate. However, if anyone took notice, Iggy holds his sword backhandedly, meaning the blade is facing behind him, and sometimes somewhat sideways to where it travels up his arm.
This in-turn connects to his classical 'finishing move', where he turns away from a charging enemy, blade still backhanded, and stabs in the opening between his ribs and arm into the charging enemy, then turning around and twisting his blade deep into the enemy before kicking them off his blade.
Rarely seen considering he's rarely seen in combat, nor does his enemies live to fight another day with him, yet still famous to him and apparently only him so far.

Mental characteristics

Personal history

Igaleichun’s Upbringing!

Preliminary to Depression

With the fall of the golden age, city-states warred between each other, if not compromise their differences with trade and peace. Even the smaller city-states with less participation still go and fight, whether side by side someone, or on their own, despite knowing their loss. One such city-state, the leading village of Brook, sitting at the bottom of Harkenlock, against the shores, was one of constant courage and deftly well in combat. Close by villages were allied with Brook, or even under control of the village. But nothing notable. However, that’s not what the Grand Chieftain Drakolix Igualdia thought. The grand chieftain, the official voice of the people, let his feelings get too heated. The village elders, from each of the tribes allied and conquered, warned the grand chieftain to follow what they say. He soon grew fed up of it. Drakolix wanted to be heard for once, and he felt the power overwhelm him, his feelings of being almighty breaking out of their bottle and leading the grand chieftain astray. Rewind four years and thirty days ago. The grand chieftain had many of prostitutes, and a third of them were wives.
One wife in particular, named Olinazax, was found to be pregnant with Drakolix. She was worried, as she had hemorrage problems in the past. Simple cuts and scrapes would need more than simple bandaging and healing. Though they could do nothing to fix this problem. For forty-nine days, her belly grew, contractions slowly getting worse and worse. Eventually came the day, a month, and a week and a half would become Igaleichun’s birthday. Sadly, Olinazax died quickly after birth from blood loss.
For those four years, Igaleichun was in the care of his father, the grand chieftain, and his multiple wives, having a mom every day of the week. It was a good half a month away for Iggy’s fifth birthday. Drakolix had brought everyone together for a public announcement. He spoke loud with pride, letting his feelings flow. “I have brought you all here to announce a declaration. A declaration of war against those nasty barbarians called orcs, straight to their home, Xagolae!” An eruption of cries echoed out, piercing the skies that night. Both of fear, and happiness. That day the elder’s rule had been overthrown.
Yet soon, that rule would come back. The elders confronted Drakolix, but the grand chieftain had become too cocky and proud of himself to listen to them. They warned him. But of what? Nobody knows. Together, neighboring tribes began using their few trading boats as ships of war to go and fight. They sent many men that year, and it took them awhile to eventually reach their destination. However, they didn’t come back. They never did. Instead, was a massive ship, fleeted with just fifteen orcs landed on Brook’s shore. And so began the slaughtering. Many badgers of Brook were murdered on those sands. The remaining elders spoke with grand chief Drakolix. It was his fault for starting this war, which was no longer just war, it was genocide at this point. Neighboring tribes would get burnt down, pillaged. All because Drakolix had to be rash. They gave him the answer to save his people, and let the rest be spared. And Drakolix had no choice but to follow it.
The badger quickly made his way to the chieftain hut. One of the wives were there, caring for Igaleichun before Drakolix snatched the child up. The two shared glances before the grand chieftain left and ran up to the orcs. “Look!” he shouted, “You no longer have to slaughter our people! We come in peace! And with peace, I grant you a gift. A gift of life.” Tears slowly formed in Drakolix’s eyes. “My heart and soul. My heir to the throne. I give you Igaleichun Igualdia.” He handed over the baby, who was completely silent by now. He knew not what the orcs were, what they were doing, and why his dad was holding him out. Soon enough, one orc barked for the rest to return to the ship. Slowly, those brutish hands grappled onto the child’s sides, and hoisted Iggy away. The tiny child badger was now looking back at his father, who just stared in dejection. He had failed as a father. He let his one and only son get taken away due to his foolishness. His selfishness. And Iggy was gone. Forever.

Dilemma with Doubt

It wasn’t very long back to Xagolae where Igaleichun was to be used. He was already a rather pudgy kid, and he was thankful for that, as the orcs mostly starved him throughout the trip. The only food he was allowed was left-overs, and that was barely anything. He kept asking questions, constantly, about where he was going, where daddy and mommies are, when he’d get food again, and most importantly, could he play with someone. All resulted to a backhand bitch-slap or a stomp on the foot. Poor badger paws could only take so much! Eventually he fell quiet after a few days, creating an imaginary friend and playing with him.
The day finally arrived for when they landed aboard shore. One orc picked up Iggy, and hauled him out as the rest went to explain their success. A few more days of eating table-scraps with said orc went on, as something in the background slowly concocted. Little did lil Iggy know, was that he was now a part of a slave trade. Rather than living a normal life, letting his dad become and elder and taking his place, he was now being moved from Xagolae to a small town, as a slave. He was skin and bones, already wrapped with chains instead of carried, and forced to march on into somewhere he didn’t know. And boy was it treacherous. He spent days in deserts, going through harsh heat and chilling cold. But he pushed on, as the orcs forced him to.
Eventually him, and the group of slaves and slave owners with them, had made it to their destination. He was now eight, soon turning nine as he was given a pickaxe, and their masters wielded whips. He knew he had to follow directions, but he didn’t know how to use a pickaxe. He did his best a few times, occasionally looking at his master who got angrier and angrier with each passing failed attempt. Eventually he dragged the pickaxe over and decided to ask, “How do I use this…?” The master’s response was quick and simple. A brandished, slightly spiked chain to the face, making the badger tumble back and recoil. He began crying. Or was he bleeding? He couldn’t tell. There was a huge gash from his head to his cheek. He covered his face, crying silently. Soon enough, another SNAP, to the arm, causing the badger to squeak out in pain. He grabbed his pickaxe and did his best to scramble back. He couldn’t see out of his left eye. His right arm ached and bled. He eventually glanced around--As much as he could see, and did his best to follow the other slave’s lead.
That night he was forced into the slave’s quarters. While the masters of the miners had a rather nice hut to themselves, the slaves ended up with one run-down shack. Their pickaxes have been taken from them for the night, and they were not only chained to each other still, but now to a post where they couldn’t run away. The badger child was huddled up in a corner, crying and holding his face and arm, applying pressure to the slowly scabbing over wounds. Luckily he wouldn’t get any diseases, but scars would definitely remain, especially over that eye. He slowly opened it...But he couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t feel anything anymore. His other eye kept dropping tears onto the cold ground. Was he dying? What did he do to deserve this? He was scared out of his mind. He wanted to go back home. He didn’t want to live this way. And yet he had to.
The next day came, leaving the poor badger tired and yet, still working his wounds off as he kept mining with the other slaves. And this went on, to the next day, and the next day, and the next day, and the next. His legs grew weaker as his arms gained some definition over time, with all the working. Soon another band of orcs came, seeming to survey the slaves. Iggy began working harder, in front of them, out right hammering his pickaxe into the ground at a speedy pace. He didn’t know what they were here for, much less why, but he felt that he needed to show off to them. To hide his scars and pain, and put on a mask that he learns to keep at times.
With that hard work and effort, the masters went into their quarters for the night, also pushing the slaves to their shithole. Iggy was on his hands and knees, panting, having pushed himself a little too hard today. But it was rewarded. The next morning, Igaleichun was unshackled. Only to be reshackled with a new master. The badger seemed elated, but he was too tired to show it. He looked back at his old master for the last time. He remembered that face. Analyzed it. Photographed it into his mind. He would pay in due time, being forced to migrate again.

Living with Determination

Igaleichun was lead back to Xagolae with his new master, now of the age of ten. But this was no ordinary slave owner. This orc brought him straight to his home. He was soon ordered to sit at the dining table with him, clambering into the seat, having been around three feet and nine inches tall, and still growing. He put his hands at his side, blinking as his master set a book in front of him, and forced the badger to put his paws in his lap. He looked rather confused as the orc sat on the complete other side of the table and spoke, “I am Tozhung. I will not answer any questions just yet. First you will learn manners, especially of those of higher ups.” That was all Iggy heard. He canted his head before the orc got back up and straightened the badger out.
The next couple of days would be rather unique for the teenage badger. Rather than living off scraps of food and working his arms till their defeated before him, he was fed huge meals, technically meals for two considering Tozhung was there, and exercised regularly, having hand weights to swing back and forth, and doing squats to bench presses. Along with eating and exercising more than well, he was taught some basic common courtesy, considering all he knew was how to be a slave.
“What happened to your eye?” Tozhung eventually asked, a good few months into training. Iggy blinked and looked away shyly, hugging himself before replying. “..I...Tried asking for help, and got this instead…” Tozhung nodded in understanding. “Then you have gained a lesson.” Iggy looked confused as Tozhung continued. “You can not rely on higher ups to help you. You have to learn to help yourself. And only trust those close to you.” Igaleichun thought about that for a day or more. Not to trust the higher powers...Rely on only himself and...People close to him? Was that the slaves? It racked his brain for a while.
Eventually he came to the age of thirteen. He didn’t get any special party, as always, not even any special food from Tozhung. He laid in his imperfect bed, seeming to dread getting up for once. Like he knew something bad was to happen. But eventually he got up and stepped outside into the living room. Tozhung was waiting with a wooden sword and a rather long band of red cloth. The badger looked confused, but the orc motioned for the badger to come close, which he did. Soon enough he was gifted with said items. “Today,” Tozhung started, “Is the day I teach you how to fight. And not normal fighting. I will teach you not only how to use a blade, but your body as well.” Igaleichun looked rather confused. Why did he need to fight? He’s lived a controlled life, why would he need to fight?
But he agreed to do it. “What’s the cloth for?” He asked, Tozhung replying with, “It is your mark. Your honor. If you are to die, this will be your burial marker. And I’m sure there’ll be more reasons to wear this.” Iggy looked confused as the orc wrapped the cloth around his waist. He was soon forced to hold the sword, specifically in his scarred arm. He gently traced a claw over the flesh that was barely covered by fur. He sighed again and nodded as he held it with the blade pointing forward.
“Why this way?” Iggy asked, months later as his wooden blade was now forced to face behind him. Tozhung did not answer, instead, just taught him the lessons. Igaleichun just sighed and shook his head as he followed instructions. He was confused as always, as to why this was happening, why he was living this life, why he was just alive. He sighed, rolling in bed, tossing and turning for the night. Days went on slowly, along with weeks, months. Training and learning each day. And every day he wore the red cloth.
One night, another birthday coming up, he woke up from a nightmare. He found himself with his old orc master. The one that branded him. And his father was there. What little he can remember of his father, at least. The dadger was handing Igaleichun over to the orc master. And that’s all he could remember from the nightmare. Nonetheless, he found himself screaming, covering his scarred eye and crying, closing his working eye. He found himself cuddling his honor--The scrap of red he was given, and using it to help him throughout the rest of the night. The next morning, Tozhung entered his room for once, waking the badger up and tugging him outside. Iggy whined and just followed obediently before blinking in surprise. It was a ship. A sloop, but a ship nonetheless!
“What’s..This for?” Iggy asked before Tozhung nodded and simply replied, “Your answers.” Igaleichun looked rather confused, but nodded slowly. That wasn’t all, however. Tozhung took out a sheet of paper. It was the slavery papers. He looked like he was about to hand it to Iggy before suddenly, RIIIIPPP! The orc had torn the parchment of slavery.
He then nodded to the badger and said his final words that would ring through Iggy’s head. “Leave and never come back.”

Today

Now of twenty four years of age, this badger has now taken shelter. After traveling from island to island, looking for home, he gave up and landed on Harkenlock, deciding to do his best to hide his sloop for a few years. He ended up taking refuge in Springstein, growing and learning languages, honing his combat, and learning about the world as much as he could. He took up the rest of common language, though he didn't seem too liked at all. He was actually an outcast to most places, probably being a badger and all. Not that it stopped him from getting a job--Labor was labor. And he still somehow got money for it. Enough to go further in life and get a better job, elsewhere.
Igaleichun’s birthday was nearing again, his twenty fifth, as he traveled across the sea to Acron for vacation via his hidden sloop. Now on his birthday, he wanders the streets of the major city-state, glancing around repeatedly for better offers for his life to change, and mayhaps a new batch of friends. But first, to chug himself drunk to celebrate himself, again, living, somehow through all that torture and pain. And now wearing a red sash below his beer belly, some basic clothing, an eye patch over his scarred eye, and a weapon, he enters the tavern.

Social

Religious Views

Iggy's patron deities are Manari and Ahnei.

Alignment

Neutral Good

Current Location

Acron

Species

Badgerfolk

Year of Birth

420 ME

Birthplace

Pebble Islands

Gender

Male

Eyes

Brown

Hair

Black and White (fur)

Height

1.4m

Aligned Organization

Liberators of Hornhack