Bolint Freewalker

The Free City of Onungburg was a densely populated trade entrepot near to an unusually accessible pass into the Redspike Mountains. Cramped conditions and numerous pest animals resulted in a large Skinwalker population and, owing to proximity and cultural exchange with the Kingdom of Frostheim to the north, it was more tolerant of them than any other Free City. Onungburg was one of very few Free Cities to maintain neutrality during the War of Kaerok — albeit a wary and tenuous one – owing to its importance as a center of commerce. Provisioners from Kaerok were disgusted seeing Skinwalkers going about the city freely, however. One of them was Bolint, who was angered by their stares and insults. He had spent years working for a Human scrap-monger, Drouff, both before and after his transformation. The man had always been kind to him and, in turn, Bolint was steadfastly loyal. After the War, discrimination against Skinwalkers escalated and developed into the Red Crusade, and Onungburg became a haven for the dispossessed from across Kaerok. When Sacred Order fanatics came, compelling the ‘clean’ to purge their Skinwalker neighbors, the zealots were soundly repulsed by the city’s inhabitants — including Bolint and Drouff who organized several marches. The Order declared Onungburg a stronghold of Darkness, fit only to be annihilated. It raised a huge army and lay siege to the city. In Onungburg, stores were prepared, firefighting crews assembled, and barricades erected in the streets. Bolint and Drouff once again rallied many citizens against the Sacred Order, this time with calls to take up arms against those who would destroy their city. Weeks passed. They were punctuated with artillery bombardments, probing attacks, and arrow exchanges. Bolint, wielding an enormous great—hammer crafted by Drouff made heavier still with scrap and chains, sallied forth with small groups of warriors to sabotage siege engines, snatch prisoners, and kill officers. The ‘Hammer of Onungburg’ was soon feared by crusaders and revered by his comrades. The Sacred Order’s own attacks were relentless and savage. Onungburg’s hospitals were swiftly overwhelmed. Bolint, returning from every clash caked in gore, asked Drouff to clamp his wounds closed with iron staples and stitches, rather than compete for the attention of the healers. His fellow Skinwalkers were amazed by his tenacity and selflessness and rallied to him. They helped Bolint throw down the attackers’ ladders, topple buildings to block streets, and flush out parties of Sacred Order infiltrators. Alas for the defenders, the sheer weight of the Order’s numbers proved too great. Bolint was forced to fight rearguard action after rearguard action, each time being battered and broken, escorting civilians as they were evacuated and launching counterattacks to rescue surrounded citizens and militia. The Order was winning, securing more and more of the city. Bolint and Drouff always fought together but, during the defense of a makeshift hospital, word came that a hundred citizens had been cut off by Order fanatics. Drouff urged Bolint to help them, saying he would hold the line and wait for his comrade. When Bolint returned, he found Onungburg defenders in full retreat. He pushed through the fleeing mass, desperately searching for Drouff. He found his old friend dead, lying in the rubble with ax wounds across his shoulders and chest. Bolint was driven into a bloody frenzy that saw him reduce two-dozen crusaders to paste. Despite his rage, he could not turn the tide. He fell back, Drouff’s lifeless body in his exhausted arms. Days later, Bolint and the resistance’s last holdouts made their final stand in Onungburg’s town square. One by one, they were cut down by Crusaders who called them all filth, vermin, monsters, and traitors. As the zealots swarmed Bolint, dead all around him, there was a flash of golden light. Many present later swore they saw a glimpse of the Arbiter. The Sacred Order declared it an omen of blessing. In truth, the Arbiter had saved Bolint within a Shard. Bolint had been ready to die. He was shattered. Aghast. Plagued with guilt. It took the Arbiter years of careful consolation and building and trust to persuade him to embrace life in her service. She taught him of Siroth’s evil, and introduced him to her wisest and most noble servants, including Ramantu Drakesblood. He was glad to have persevered when the Third Great War broke out and he was released from his Shard. Not only did he slay many of Siroth’s minions, but with the Gaellen War raging simultaneously, he aided war-weary Skinwalker veterans fighting against his old foes, the Sacred Order. It was this that turned him against the Arbiter for good. The Order’s genocidal mania was as strong as it ever had been. She had done nothing to stop them. He would no longer obey the Arbiter. He proclaimed himself: the Freewalker.