Sigurd

Standing at six feet tall, Sigurd cuts a bold figure in his tanned leather pants and sturdy black boots. His upper body is covered by warpaint, and his head and shoulders are sheltered by a bearskin mantle down to his waist. He carries a massive two-handed axe and has a sharp, if unadorned longsword at his hip. His left eye is a vivid green and his right eye is a milky white, a scar from a blade having marred his flesh from his forehead down to his chin. He stands with a rigid posture, body intensely muscled and is constantly looking around for his next challenge.

In the heart of Manifold, a village once thrived, nestled between mountains and forests. It was here that Sigurd grew up, a boy with dreams as vast as the sky. His father, a skilled warrior, forged a legacy with the fires of glory while his mother sang songs of his bravery and honor. But everything changed one fateful night. Dark sorcerers descended upon the village like shadows in the night. They unleashed chaos, turning homes to ashes and laughter to screams. Sigurd fought alongside his father wielding a crude axe but the magic was overwhelming. Seeing his father struck down shattered him. The flames consumed everything he loved, and that night left scars deeper than any blade could inflict. Years passed as Sigurd, now a hulking figure fit for the legends, roamed the lands fueled by rage and sorrow. He became a Berserker, channeling his pain into a primal strength and rage filled fury. Each battle felt like a step closer to vengeance but even as he became stronger, he was haunted by the faces of those he lost as their ghosts followed him like shadows. When his battle rage wore off one fateful day, he was met by a lone figure standing among the wreckage. An Enclave agent named Snorri Jorgenson witnessed his destructive power and recruited him to serve as a member of Enclave and to maybe, one day, serve his enemies with the revenge he sought.