In a fight, anger is as good as courage.


A down on his luck sellsword, Kjaran has seen it all. He's made it through sieges, last stands, pitched battles, pestilence, famine, and disasters. He's ranged from one end of the known world to the other, having met many interesting people, and avoided being killed by them.

Kjaran Mak Aodha

Biographical information

Birthplace Born Died Age 40s Home Sexuality Pronouns

Physical description

Race Human Sub-Race Gender Male Height 6'3 Mass 200lbs Hair color Dark Eye color Grey Skin color Pale

Political information

Affiliation(s) None Occupation Clan(s) Caste Domain Masters Apprentices Alias(es)

Out-of-character information

Writer Ceithernach Created on 12/9/19 Avatar Art by Angus McBride

A tall, weathered looking man, Kjaran is the sort most try to keep a wide berth of. He might wear a slow stupid smile but his bulk and garb mean most get out of his way in a crowd. He has dark hair, gloomy eyes, and pale skin that tends to go red rather than darken in the sun. His build is big enough to suggest some orc in his ancestry. He keeps his hair cut short to avoid complications (and being yanked off balance in a brawl).

His chainmail is worn often enough to be a second skin and has clearly had better days. His helm is a dull grey with some dents on it that he just can't get rid of. He might call himself a soldier of fortune but the latter has most definitely avoided his grasp.

Pillage, Then Burn. Kjaran is an old hand at the soldiering trade. He knows how to catch a few winks on sentry duty, he knows the most comfortable places to bed down, the best loot to flog, and a whole host of other tricks.

Let Us Eat And Drink For Tomorrow We Die! Kjaran enjoys drink. He particularly enjoys it in excess. To watch someone leave one half unfinished is a horrendous waste. Too many nights wondering what the morrow will bring, he'll take one any chance he can get.

You Wouldn't Like Me When I'm Angry... It takes a while to set Kjaran off but when it happens, he goes berserk. Quite literally. Frothing at the mouth, gnawing at his shield, a howling screaming creature that's determined to tear his enemies apart limb from limb. When the red mist closes over his eyes, no one is safe. Few who've seen it wish to stand by him after.

A happy go lucky sort, Kjaran's an old soldier who's seen his fair share of action. His moods tend to vary between grumpy muttering, sombre stares, and wry amusement. He's quick to laugh and unfailingly good natured. A little world weary, he does his best to find humour in the various troubles he finds himself in.

He's possessed of a heart of gold for all his fervent protestations. No matter where he is, he'll always try to do the right thing. He's frequently taken the poorer contract or gone without pay because his principles got in the way.