SFW
Kaika Black
Music should have Feeling•
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Race
Hrothgar
Clan
The Lost
Free Company
None
Introduction
Hrothgar... I mean what more is there to say? That alone should give all the 'additional information' you need.
Player's notes
No additional notes provided by the player.
Character Information
Basic details about Kaika Black
Age
30
Race
Hrothgar
Partner
Single
Pronouns
He/Him
Occupation
Mercenary
Body Type
Fighter/Bulky
Birthplace
Golmore Jungle
Residence
Gridania Now
Background
The story of the character's origins
The last, echoing roars of the Golmore Jungle faded behind Kaika Black, replaced by the terrifying silence of absolute desperation. His reasons for fleeing were etched into his memory, a silent oath never to return. He was an exile, a lone Hrothgar stripped of his pride, but not his will to survive. He scaled perilous cliffs, swam treacherous rivers, driven by the instinct to put as much distance as possible between himself and his past.
He found salvation, or so he hoped, in the form of a ramshackle airship at a forgotten port. Its pilot, a drunken Roegadyn mercenary, barely noticed the hulking figure that melded with the cargo in the dead of night. The roar of the ceruleum engines was a lullaby compared to the horrors he'd left behind.
A Savage Solitude in Outer La Noscea The journey was long, and when the airship finally landed, it was not in a bustling port but a desolate stretch of Outer La Noscea. Kaika, with his charcoal fur matted and his body aching, slipped out unnoticed, finding himself on a windswept coast. The air tasted of salt and unfamiliar herbs. After days of foraging for bitter roots and scavenging fallen fruit, he stumbled upon a miraculous sight: a cluster of hot springs steaming gently in a secluded cove.
Beside them lay a dilapidated hovel, abandoned by some long-forgotten fisherman. Its walls were crumbling, the roof caved in, but it was shelter. Kaika claimed it, not with joy, but with grim determination.
The Gauntlet of Survival: Survival was a daily, brutal dance. The lushness of La Noscea was deceptive; large, dangerous Coerl prowled the hills, and swift Dodos were elusive. Kaika, accustomed to the coordinated hunts of his Hrothgar pride, now hunted alone. He meticulously carved a crude spear from a fallen tree branch, hardening the tip over the hot springs' volcanic vents. He fashioned snares from tough vines, setting them with the cunning of generations of hunters, catching small, scuttling Diremites and unwary Goblins. Each kill was a triumph, each meal a testament to his raw will. He learned the rhythm of the tides, harvesting pungent seaweed and cracking open crab shells with his powerful hands.
The Weight of Isolation: Beyond the physical struggle, there was the crushing isolation. The silence, broken only by the cry of gulls and the bubbling of the springs, was a constant reminder of his lost pride. He spoke to no one, relying only on his instincts and the faded memories of his people's wisdom.
The Deserts of Thanalan and the Shock of Civilization After months, a growing unease settled upon him. The hovel was secure, but stagnant. He yearned for purpose beyond mere survival. Following the distant paths of infrequent merchant caravans, he journeyed inland, traversing the perilous Sagolii Desert. The unrelenting sun was a physical blow, his thick fur absorbing the heat like a sponge, leaving him constantly parched and exhausted. He learned to seek shade under sparse desert plants, to dig for water in dry riverbeds, and to endure the stinging sandstorms that scoured the land.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the towering walls of Ul'dah appeared on the horizon, a golden mirage in the shimmering heat.
The Culture Shock of Ul'dah: The moment he stepped through the gates, the world exploded. The sheer volume of sound—chattering Lalafell, booming Roegadyn merchants, the incessant clatter of carts, the cries of street hawkers—overwhelmed his senses. The air was thick with foreign smells: exotic spices, rich perfumes, the metallic tang of gil, and the acrid smoke of smithies. He saw hundreds, thousands, of faces – Hyur with their strange, soft features, diminutive Lalafell scurrying like insects, graceful Miqo'te with their twitching ears. None of them were Hrothgar. They stared at him with a mix of fear, awe, and outright hostility. He saw wealth beyond his wildest imaginings, and poverty that rivaled his own. He was a creature of the wild, now standing amidst a meticulously ordered chaos he couldn't comprehend. Every glance was a judgment, every step a blunder. His muscles, honed for hunting and survival, felt clumsy in the press of bodies. The biggest danger now wasn't a beast, but the indifferent, alien world of civilization itself. He was in their territory, without a scent-mark or a growl to claim it