Elder Skarg Champion Lore
Skarg was born in the bitterness of the Winterlands during the Age of Hellfire, where he learned quickly that the deeds of a man defined him, not the environment he faced. Like all Old Norr, he loved his people dearly, and learned to fight at an early age. He was a young man of courage, intelligence, wisdom, and was a born leader.
Skarg was forced to use his skills sooner than he wished. After the Battle of the Waters of Life, Sorath the Frost Spider and a horde of Demonspawn descended upon his domain. Though most of the Old Norr were driven from the Winterlands after the battle, Skarg nonetheless won praise for his courage, cool head, and clever organization, which enabled thousands to flee to safety. Witnesses spoke of how he took to battle against the Demonic scourge single—handedly.
Many of the surviving Old Norr fled to the Redspike Mountains, and dozens of kingdoms were established, collectively known as Frostheim. Six – of which Skarg ruled one — rapidly became more dominant than the others. To the ambitious, this time of upheaval was an opportunity to seize power, and though Skarg was highly respected, he knew that in turbulent times that could make him a target. In the end, the threat came from his own family. Skarg was ambushed by his half-brother, Rakran, who desired to become king of all the Redspikes. After a bitter fight, Skarg was left for dead. terribly wounded, he later crawled and hobbled to the valley of Queen Larah, ruler of another of the largest kingdoms, and sought refuge. Under her protection, Skarg recuperated and planned his revenge. He was determined to rid the world of his brother — but Queen Larah refused to aid him, not wishing for war. And so he traversed the Redspikes, seeking allies to fight Rakran, but during that time his half-brother invaded the queen’s territory. Skarg raced to the valley, and waged a guerrilla campaign against Rakran, drawing warriors to him over many months.
Despite Queen Larah’s pleas, the remaining four principal monarchs of the Redspikes refused to aid her, for all awaited the outcome of the war to see what opportunities it presented. Forced to fight alone, Larah and Skarg joined their strength. Weeks passed before they successfully drew Rakran’s army into an ambush. During the horrific bloodshed, Skarg cleaved his way to his half-brother, and in the bitter duel that followed, beheaded Rakran with his broadsword. The battle was won shortly thereafter, and Skarg reclaimed his old kingdom.
Though one war had ended, peace was not brought to Frostheim. There was much jostling for land and power, and the minor kingdoms greatly resented the might of the six strongest. Skarg feared that division would leave each kingdom vulnerable to outsiders, so he gathered the Old Norr monarchs together. Rulers and their entourages nearly came to blows before Skarg rose to speak, his reputation the only thing preventing the spilling of blood. He spoke passionately about betrayal and the dangers the Norr had overcome to achieve what they had in the Redspikes, convincing them that unity and peace were greater than greed and conflict. He proposed a union of all Old Norr in the Redspikes. Disputes would be resolved peacefully and no single kingdom would ever face an attack alone. Few could deny his wisdom. Thanks to Skarg, the Confederation of Frostheim was born.
And yet, not all were happy. Dozens of monarchs and warlords felt strong-armed into accepting a life of relative poverty in comparison to their stronger neighbors, and so invaded Kaerok to gain the wealth and status they could not find in Frostheim. This war-migration lasted for decades, with the Frostheimers defeated. Many kings and queens were killed, and in their absence, those monarchs who remained widened and consolidated their holdings so that all Frostheim was controlled by the six most powerful kingdoms. There were pitifully few returning nobles and warlords to challenge the state of affairs, and Skarg confirmed that the Confederation would have six rulers forever more.
Impressed by Skarg’s vision, the Arbiter came to the monarchs and gifted them a Shard. She recognized Skarg’s influence and proposed that he exchange his freedom for the immortality a Shard could offer. While he knew this meant his influence could extend beyond the length of his mortal life, Skarg knew that to acquiesce meant that he would never taste life unless called to aid his people. His agreement came with one condition – that only a ruler of Frostheim would be able to summon him.
Though the Confederation has long since been replaced with the Kingdom of Frostheim, and the Winter Hall is now the haunt of the Ice Golem, Skarg’s legacy remains. His place in history is enshrined in songs that celebrate this proud warrior whose noble words and daring deeds forged a brighter future for the Redspikes. And like a sleeping giant, his power remains ready, waiting to be roused for battle again.
Elder Skarg Storyline
Long before the rise of Kaerok, many self-proclaimed kings ruled the lands, though few of them were more than tyrannical warlords and slavers. It was an age when the strong thrived and exploited the weak without mercy and with no law to stop them. Yet it was also the age when Mankind forged its own destiny in the fires of battle, and the foundations of civilisation were laid by the heroes and visionaries. Born into one of the ancient clans, Skarg had to learn the craft of battle from an early age. His kin were humble hunters, yet theirs was an inhospitable land in the north. Battling the elements, the beasts, and slavers, the clan had become strong and respected. They sought to maintain their own ancestral lands and cared little for the squabbles of others around them. Alas, that made them undesirable to the would-be rulers of the land. Skarg had barely come of age when his village was razed to the ground by the bloodthirsty berserkers of King Rakran – an upstart warlord with the ambition of building a kingdom to rival that of the Elves. With many of their kin slain or captured, the ragtag band of survivors had no choice but to retreat into the dark mountain forests. There, Skarg led them on a campaign of vengeance that lasted many months and saw Rakran’s minions diminished by constant guerilla attacks. Finally, enraged by his warriors’ inability to crush a handful of stubborn fools, Rakran took to the field himself. Unfortunately for him, this was exactly what Skarg and his band of fighters were waiting for. They ambushed Rakran, vanquished his guard, and the would-be King himself fell to Skarg’s spear. As victorious cheers died down around him, the Skarg reached to pick up the fallen King’s sword and held it aloft, vowing that no more would tyrants and fools threaten his kin. Skarg meant every word of that mighty oath and lived by it ever since, leading his ever-growing army to do battle against the warlords who sought to subjugate them. Over the years, he had slain countless men who called themselves ‘King’ and brought freedom to the tribes they enslaved. Even in his elder years, Skarg had no match in battle. The thunderous clarion call that heralded his arrival had sent entire armies into a terrified flight, and neither human nor monster could harm him. Alas, Skarg had made many enemies in his life. He would not engage in mindless slaughter of those who served the defeated kings, and many of those whose fortunes he had ruined now plotted his downfall. It was at the fortieth celebration of his victory over tyrant Rakran that they struck, poisoning Skarg and his bodyguards, then converging to finish him with daggers and short swords. With the words of curses on his lips, the Elder gave battle and laid his dastardly assassins low before dropping to one knee and staring at his own lifeblood slowly ebbing away. But the sound of footsteps forced Skarg to raise his gaze to behold a woman of unearthly beauty, clad in white and gold and walking towards him. Skarg had assumed this to be a witch’s trickery and attempted to raise his sword with what little strength still remained in his body. Yet, the stranger did not attack. Instead, she introduced herself as the Arbiter – the living avatar of Lumaya’s will – and told him in no uncertain terms that he was going to die. There was, however, another way – bind his soul to the Champion Shard and live on eternally in service of Lumaya and Her Light. Though Skarg knew little of Lumaya, he could not deny the sheer aura of power that radiated from the Goddess’ servant. After a moment of deliberation, he chose to accept. In a single blinding instant, Skarg’s wounds had been healed and the deadly poison within his veins dissipated. He was whole once more, stronger than he felt in a good decade, and filled with a new sense of purpose. The Elder bowed in reverence and pledged his sword to the Arbiter – hers to command forevermore.