Thamur

Thamur was a soldier of Caern from the day he was born, given up to the army by his parents alongside his younger twin brother Rauru. Training ever since his youth, his prowess on the battlefield eventually garnered him a reputation as a fearsome warrior, earning him the moniker "The Bloodborne General". He is now a reformed man living out a peaceful life in the deserts of Oracle.

## Thamur Alvaldi

### Aliases

Tham Twinblade General Bloodborne General (former)Green Boi

### Relatives

Rauru (younger brother, deceased)Zorfu (brother-in-arms)

Gnog (brother-in-arms)

## Early Life

“Death or life. To have killed, is to have lived.” The motto of which Caern warred by. The words of which Thamur was indoctrinated by.

Once, upon a time long ago, he had wished to have gentle hands, flowers wrapped and intertwined around his fingers. But it had been so long-- much too long. All that was left was this bloody game, as empty as the husks he left in his wake.

They all tried to run from him, of course. They built walls and hid in the dredges, but he always found them. Some begged. Some chose to jump off cliffs or slit their own throats rather than face his reckoning. Some stared back at him with eyes as empty as her own and welcomed death with open arms. Those were the ones he envied the most.

He was but a rumour, a shadow within misty haze, a legendary warrior spoken of only through whispered stories and snatches of tavern gossip. *"I've heard that he fights more like a demon than a man"*, one patron would say to another over a cup of beer. *"I heard he once massacred an entire kingdom by himself. He makes even the Warden of the Depths and the Earth Mother afraid."*

Only one other had a reputation that matched his. His last remaining kin, Rauru. Together, they established a Caernian outpost in a land of ice and snow, barren and devoid of all life, as allies and brothers. Through it all, Rauru smiled instead of grinned, laughed instead of cackled, joked instead of taunted, spreading cheer even in the darkest of times. On calmer days, they’d wile away time with tea, friendly sparring, and music, playing duets that quieted the screaming in Techno’s head, if only for a little while. It was he who taught Thamur the ancient art of offseeing-- a way to properly and respectfully send off the souls of those departed. A rite to mourn for those that lose their lives on the battlefield, a burden that Rauru taught Thamur to express through the music played on their flutes.

He'd felt at peace alongside the boy with green hair, and cherished every moment he spent with him. They had sung ballads together, composed songs and epics of all those who had fallen alongside them, played each other soothing music till all the demons living in both their hearts had gone, and all that remained was their brotherly bond. A brief respite in their ever-demanding lives.

But as they say, good things never last.

Word had soon spread of the two brothers living together, and their enemies came in droves. Some were seeking revenge for lost family, some seeking the glory of besting Caern's best in combat. They came day after day, and before long Thamur had forgotten what peace tasted like. It was back to the sword, back to the battlefield for him, seemingly welcoming back his depraved soul to where it truly belonged. The days were long and the nights were longer; every flicker of movement a spy in the shadows, every ally a potential traitor, every word a declaration of war. Their home had become a target for a thousand armies.

Through it all, his one constant was Rauru– until he wasn’t.

On yet another battlefront, Thamur had cleaved through enemy lines, hacking and slashing through hordes of hostile forces. Bodies lay dead on the ground, stiff, silent and unmoving-- all but one. And one was all that was needed.

On the ground beside the nameless soldier was one of the general's throwing knives, lost during their battle. He was but another product of Thamur's wrath, a man robbed of everything he held dear. And as his dying gaze swept across the battlefield, marred with darkness that would soon eternally envelop his vision, he spotted a hazy blur of green.

With the last of his strength, he curled his fingers around the hilt.

He could smell the sweet summer flowers in the air. He could hear the voice of his love now lost. She was calling him home. But he could not face her without having avenged her.

And so, with blood spilling from his chest, with all he had left, the soldier aimed.

And threw.

And then there was pain, as the knife found its mark in the young boy's heart.

Just like that, Rauru's last breath– suddenly, swiftly, and quietly– was drawn. Disappearing in the snow like a gust of wind.

All Thamur remembered was screaming. But when he awoke, all that remained from that battle was himself cradling the broken body of his brother, kneeling amidst the ashes of a force that once was.

Afterwards, there was hardly any point in maintaining the peace, maintaining his previous life. So Thamur took up his swords and his shield, and abandoned his home, returning to the mainland of Caern. He knew what needed to be done, but the thought of a deteriorating piano lying amidst a crumbling frontier had burned itself in his mind. It simply added on to a long list of primordial regrets.

## Recent Life Events

Months had passed since Rauru's death. Thamur had quietly left the Caernian army, leaving a bleeding hole in the middle of their forces. Yet, this was one of the few things that he held no remorse for. Spending time as both a vagrant and a mercenary, he made the journey from the far east of Oracle, eventually stumbling upon the beaches of Leafton and promptly passing out on the sand before the former Queen Jayden came across his unconscious body. He soon built another reputation as a noble warrior and guardsman of Leafton, becoming close with Gnog, Tomat, Ajax, Irene, Blu, Zorfu and Seth. However, despite vowing to abide by the peaceful laws of Leafton and their patron deity Eldath, Thamur had still secretly felt doubts about the kingdom’s beliefs, finding himself at odds with the ideals of his queen.

Is battle truly needed, or is diplomacy the more effective solution?

To Thamur, the bloody deathmatch of life was all he knew. Not movements, resistances, nor speeches. They'd cheer for Jayden in the streets, but nothing would change. Words of hope, words of wisdom, words of courage. They were not what would lead a nation to power. They were not what would protect a kingdom from its many aggressors.

"Power isn't gained from diplomacy, and bureaucracy, and long-drawn out speeches about tension and aggression. It's gained from blades, it's gained from steel, from iron. It's gained from sacrifice, from one's willingness to maim. And to be a ruler without the willingness to exert even the strength to protect...well, I see nothing but weakness and hubris."

And Mira proved Thamur right.

In the center of Leafton's walls.

In desperation, Jayden turned to the orc, tasking him with the capture or execution of the elven murderer. Unfortunately, even with the formation of Leafton's underground militia, spearheaded by Thamur himself, he was unable to track down and locate her. Eventually, news of Mira's death at the hands of Victor reached Thamur, leading him to disband the Roundtable of the Red Sands. This, alongside Jayden's departure, led him to come to the decision to leave Leafton, knowing that it was safe in the hands of his 'brother', Gnog.

He left for the south, happening upon a floating landmass of sleet and snow, detached from the confines of the haunted world below. Making his way up the many waterfalls of the island, he discovered its rulers-- Tomat and Panjura. Yet again he found himself at odds with leadership, with Panjura's hostility towards Gnog further fracturing their already tense relationship. On the other hand, he acquaintanced himself with the others living within Arktis, forging new bonds that eased the loneliness from his travels.

Good things never last.

Arktis soon fell into disarray, with its leaders and people both leaving for new lands.

And so too did Thamur leave, with the winds ever at his back.

## Present Life Events

Tired of the ineffectiveness and dissonance of his former lieges, Thamur moved to the desert sands, deciding to build a new home for himself, not as a king, but as a fellow mercenary and businessman. Whilst establishing his home, however, his visits to Leafton, Eldora and La Familia showed him the powerful reach of the corruption, leading him to try and find a way to bring low its powerful source, Astaroth.

"If not for me, then at least vengeance for the one person Astaroth NEVER should've touched."

## Even-More-Present Life Events

It is true that Thamur had grown too weary, and too tired to carry on his life as a warrior. Exhausted by the ever-growing burdens upon his back, Thamur bid his last goodbyes to a select few of his friends, and most importantly of all, Gnog. Despite his regrets in being unable to remain vigilant in protecting those he loved, he knew that that short period of time after Astaroth and Tharion's showdown was his one and only chance to leave his life behind. And so, he left quietly in the night. He did not intend to return. Nor did he intend to be found.

However, his peaceful isolation was soon broken, by a fellow wandering orc, no less. Grateful for the chance to converse with another of his kind, he welcomed the young stranger into his abode, allowing him to stay for as long as he wished as long as nothing was stolen or damaged. The stranger complied. As a token of friendship, Thamur would share stories of his life; stories of both Oracle and Caern; stories of life and death; stories of purity and corruption, whilst the orc would listen attentively. In return, the wanderer told the general about his own struggles; his goals and aspirations; his doubts and his faiths.

Both men knew this lifestyle could not continue. Peaceful, it was, but the wanderer had grander aims.

Several months later, on one winter night, the orc left Thamur's home behind, along with a note thanking him for everything the former warrior had done.

The stranger's name? Flügel Leibert.

## Appearance

Thamur has a lean, yet dense and muscular frame of 6 ft 2 in and 187 lbs. His hair, while messy, can be described as rather soft and fluffy, consisting of different shades of dark green, matching well with his similarly green skin. Thamur also has a plethora of scars all over his body; while his face remains relatively untouched, scars adorn both his upper and lower body– they are simply covered by his clothes.

Thamur consistently rotates between steel-plated battle armour, a red and black kimono from his homeland, and a suit worn only for important occasions.

## Personality

A wary yet protective and enthusiastic character, Thamur tries his best to quickly and accurately gauge the trustworthiness of each person he comes across before letting down his guard to them. A good conversationalist, he has many stories of past days and explored lands to tell, be it over a campfire, or a bottle of mead. However, as a lowborn Orc, he holds a deep distrust for those from noble origins, especially arrogant individuals.

Thamur is extremely passionate and intelligent in his pursuits, yet can be found out of his depth when dealing with events unprecedented-- an example being the corruption. His straightforward and earnest nature conceals a more crafty and cunning self, shown by how he was able to easily trap and expose Panjura as Leafton's thief. Furthermore, despite having a relatively standard sense of humour, being on the more sarcastic and witty side, he finds himself entirely unable to keep up with the fluid chaos of individuals such as Jacob, whose jokes leave him completely confused.

For a man with his past, Thamur is surprisingly socially unaffected by his traumas, remaining rather open, outgoing and receptive to others, especially other warriors and tradesmen. However, he deflects and avoids many questions about Caern, choosing to instead talk about his other experiences as a vagrant-mercenary. The only time he has opened up about his time in Caern was in a conversation with Gnog, whom he told reminded him of his younger brother.

Likes: Poetry, tactics, training, adventuring, food, alcohol, meeting new people, sitting by a campfire, Gnog, smithing

Dislikes: Untrustworthy people, traitors, restrictive authorities, abuse and disrespect, mud

Strengths/Pros: Thamur's physical strength is extremely high, having cultivated a lifetime of strength perfectly fit to dominate any battle and war; a threat with or without a weapon. He is extremely durable and resistant, allowing him to withstand a barrage of attacks for a long period of time. He is also highly crafty, intelligent and cunning, with tactical knowledge that is essentially second to none. He can also use some minor flame and combat magic, being able to cast protection and augmenting spells.

Weaknesses/Cons: Thamur is rather slow due to his muscular frame, causing him to be more susceptible than most to ranged attacks. He also refuses to hurt Kobolds of any kind, due to his protectiveness of Gnog. Furthermore, he is highly reluctant to open up about his past in Caern, and he can easily become hostile if he sees a need to.

Common Sayings:

"I won’t just end your life, I’ll leave no traces behind. Not even ash."

"Tell me, what do you know of the world and of life?"

"...Huh."

"How curious..."

Theme songs/OSTs:

Phase 1: Twin Blades Await.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7v-F44YyTwc&list=PLgcmrJu7RGYjyUw8XkGm3b4Vpicn0U\_2-&index=21

Phase 2: Blood and Carnage, Unleashed.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MnVemwebkiY

## Skills

* Quadrilingual
* Tactics
* Diplomacy and negotiation
* Warfare and violence
* Weapon proficiency
* General knowledge of races, lands, myths and tales
* Can play the flute

* Combat magic - Strength and damage augmentation, focus enhancement
* Fire magic (Specifically through the Blade of Fury)
* Berserker rage (triggers only when Thamur is fully bloodlusted: in this state, Thamur loses all control and sense of reason, causing him to either view all around him as enemies whom he must cut down, or endlessly demand the head of his target. Recently, Thamur has managed to garner some sort of control over this berserker state, in that he can force himself to snap out of it, albeit it taking all of his mental fortitude)

## Abilities

* He can manipulate the Blade of Fury’s fire output. It can be used to melt ice or to simply keep oneself warm.
* Flame and combat magic.
* Berserker Rage. Once he is in this state, DO NOT approach Thamur. He will stop at nothing to eliminate a target.
* The Tulpa. A voice in Thamur’s head, which names itself Keith, is able to take control of Thamur’s body. It is the apparent root of his blackout violence and berserker rage.

## Fun Facts

Thamur has a decently muscular build due to his years of military training. He has an odd fascination with anything green.