Hailing from northern
Endhome's rugged Northlands, this barbarian is known for his fierce battle-lust, love of
voluminous mirth, and vehement loyalty. Little is known of his true origin, as his
first memory is not of his family, but of a strange, ancient place. The young boy
of perhaps nine years found himself wandering the tall sprucewood forests alone. After a
fashion, he found himself in a frosty meadow wandering among hundreds of stone
statues. The figures seemed to be perfect carvings of ancient warriors in various
states of battle, an entire army of granite. After wandering among them for a time
he finally came upon a figure at the edge of the clearing. The white robed old man
was bending to cut holly sprigs from a bush with a small silver sickle. The figure
turned around and was surprised by the small child who seemed not to notice the trickling
blood running down his own face. So it was that the celtic child found his way into
the care of the northern druids, and Chalthuach his guardian, the man who had
found him that evening under the rising moon.
Although the lad showed interest in the ways of the greenwood, he could not become a druid of this sect because his bloodline was of questionable origin. Chalthuach knew that this boy had come from a clan of people who had been cursed in ancient days by the war-godess Morrigan for some past transgression and were finally wiped out by rival clans. The details of his abandonment had somehow been lost to the boy's memory, and when the druid assumed guardianship, he used his magic to wipe from the boy's mind all events previous to their meeting. So much the better for a man who would do better living kinless than with the weight of his people's past and death.
When Veridovix matured into a young man, he set out from the grove with little more than a spear, a kilt, and some furs. He wished to know his origins, knowledge the druids would not share with him. Soon however, he was discouraged by frequent abuse from any clans he approached. They had no use for a kinless stranger and showed him little save for the inhospitable slap of mistrust- an insult over which blows were often exchanged. And so he wandered in the loneliness of winter, constantly being condemned as a lesser man with no place. Adept at wilderness survival, Veridovix wandered the forests away from civilized men until he came upon a battle on a snowy hillside between one of those distrustful clans, and some strange northmen. The blonde and crimson haired men were fierce in battle, but outnumbered and clearly ambushed. Seeing this as an outlet for his anger and revenge he leapt into the fray, helping the norsemen survive and win the day. He has been running into battles with such reckless abandon ever since.
Veridovix travelled with these norsemen for awhile and they taught him of their gods, journey's, and battle ways. Though a follower of the goddess Morrigan, he developed an affinity for Thor, a thunder god of the common man, and so occasionally gives thanks to him. These people led him south into the world of civilization and there he was left to his own fate as the others moved on toward the coast. Though friendly, they too were distrusful.
In civilization's wicked arms, veridovix had many occupations from hunter to guardsman, and although he enjoyed an easy life of debauchery for awhile, he felt his life lacking. He wandered again then, from town to town until he was trapped inside one of them by a siege. He was conscripted by the guard to fight (which bothered him little on it's own) but became disillusioned when he saw their softness and cowardice in protecting what was theirs. Just as he made plans for a covert escape, a mighty mercenary army arrived to defend the breaking town. The lord had sent for the Aerie of Tir Thalor. Veridovix saw these warriors fight as brothers, efficiently routing the siegeing force. He reveled in the blood-spilling as he fought alongside them and knew he had found a rewarding opportunity. As the mercenary field marshal rode through town in victory with his men, Veridovix moved to his side and questioned the half-elf.
"How does one get to fighting with you men?" he asked.
"However he finds the will to take his own destiny into his hands." the armored officer offered as he reached down from his mount and grasped the barbarian's shoulder in good cheer.
At this remark his mind was made up to enlist indefinitely with the Aerie, and since then has found his niche in life. After many bloody and profitable battles, Veridovix was noticed by that very same field marshal who kept the man in his ranks. Veridovix' loyalty and skill caused him to become selected as the officer's personal guard. Soon, as both had suspected would happen, the two became the greatest of friends. When the marshal was sent forth to a new land on an expeditionary leave, Veridovix was one of the few men hand-picked by the half elf to go.
From time to time Veridovix takes leave to spend time with the druids on both continents, but never denies his duty or warrior blood. He can often be found sleeping in trees or cooking meals over campfires (a honed skill). His friends will attest to his forthrightness, good nature, and dedication. His enemies will attest to his frightening glare, unpredictability, and savage fury.