Panko

Panko is a mercenary you can unlock in the pirate ship.

## Story

Nestled amidst the tranquil forests of eastern Alandria once laid the humble village of Elmbrook, where the story of Panko started to unfold. Born in a family of peasants into a life of limited prospects and constrained dreams, Panko's ambitions quickly stretched beyond the village's narrow streets and milking cows. Like an untamed flame, he yearned for a life beyond Elmbrook's confines.

As a child, Panko displayed a natural aptitude for survival and cunning. The village's simplicity stifled his aspirations, and he determinedly carved his own path. One faithful evening Panko spied a local blacksmith forging something resembling a huge mace with a lot of metal spikes on it. Clunky strikes of the blacksmith's hammer weaved with the dark chants the craftsman spoke as he proceeded.

Panko was drawn to the mace as if it was calling to him. He waited till midnight before he broke the lock and entered the blacksmith. Dark room with just a few glowing embers in the corner. Panko caressed the heavy oaken handle when the door was thrown ajar and the smith entered with a torch in his hands: - Who goes there?! What is this? Who are you?

Without thinking, Panko rushed to the smith, who swang the torch. Panko blocked the swing with the upward motion and, grabbing the handle with both hands, brought the mace down with a sickening thud, when it met the blacksmith’s head. The body fell, and a stunned young man could swear as if the spikes turned into hungry mouths, sucking the blood and brain from a crushed head.

He fled into the night, never to return to his own home. Armed with a stolen mace adorned with menacing metal spikes, he swiftly gathered a rough band of misfits living in the forest camp and ascended to being a regional bandit lord. With his gang of outlaws, he terrorized travelers along trade routes, demanding "the money or your life." Those who chose the latter were quickly dealt with by Panko himself, who excelled in blocking and parrying every attack and finishing up his enemies with a swing of his notorious mace, which became somewhat of a dreaded moniker for him, a sinister legend across the region. He would care less for any men or cause - just for the money it would bring him, often switching allegiances and alliances, betraying his agents and counterparts left and right.

When the chilling winds of the Undead infestation swept again across Alandria, they first fell on Panko’s hunting grounds, his home region which would later become as notorious as Dreadland. No traders to prey upon, no peasants to oppress - just the ruins of what was once Elmbrook laid before stunned bandits once they exited the forest one memorial day. And then they met the Undead, and they would have been slain, but the lich leading the army cocked his skull, listening to the silent whispers of the mace’s spikes. And then a deal was struck: the promise of untold riches concealed within ancient crypts beckoned Panko towards the Undead's sinister embrace.

A merciless mercenary, he readily offered his services to the Undead invasion. His ruthlessness on the battlefield, often leading the charges and taking the blunt of the attack, superseded even his insatiable greed. His actions as a Undead mercenary were a testament to the depths of depravity one could descend into when driven solely by avarice.

As the Undead's grip on Alandria tightened, Panko's pursuit of profit remained unchanged - but the relentless marches left little time to pursue the treasures he was promised. The Undead offered riches beyond his wildest dreams, but he was not able not claim them! That sat uneasy with the one whose only passion was to the glint of gold that stayed just out of reach.

With a shrewd eye for profits, Panko saw a different opportunity on the horizon. The kings of the living, desperate to stem the tide of the Undead's advance, were willing to pay exorbitant sums for those with his particular set of skills. Without a second thought, he turned his back on the Undead and became a freelance fighter for the forces of good.

No moral transformation accompanied this. It was a cold, calculated business decision. Panko fought with the living against the very forces he had once aided, but his motives remained untouched by noble ideals. His mace, once wielded to terrorize and conquer, now clashes against the opponents ranks as a tool of profit. He stands tall in the chaos of battle, and his efficiency in combat earned him notoriety and, of course, a handsome purse.

Now the saga of a mercenary whose allegiances shift as swiftly as the winds of war continues. He is a testament to the pragmatism that could drive one to switch sides in a blink of an eye - as long as it benefits him.

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