Bernar Karath

Title:

Lord of Karath; Knight of the Black Arrow

Description:

This is one bear of a man: tall, broad-shouldered, barrel-chested, and burly. His biceps are the size of most men's thighs. He has the face to match: large dark brown eyes peer out of a rectangular face with a strong jaw and full lips. His face is largely smooth and unwrinkled, making his age hard to judge, but tiny crow's feet at the corners of his eyes reveal the burdens he carries. His skin is pale but well-tanned. Curly, nearly-black hair covers his head. Even cut short as it is, his hair is thick.

A charcoal silk collared shirt underlays his other garments, visible only at his neck and covering his arms. His tight-fitting sleeveless tunic and pants are predominantly red with splashes of dark blue. Gold scrollwork adorns much of the outfit. The colors of House Karath continue in the form of a gold belt buckle on his white leather belt. A scabbard of white leather contains a blade with a matching hilt and a golden-hued crossguard. Boots of supple black leather with sable lining extend up to his knees.

History:

Bernar Karath was born on an estate outside Esgaroth, but his father Irin raised him in both places, for as firstborn of House Karath, it was his duty to rule the House and defend the Realm against all comers. Unlike his shy younger sister, Oriana, Bernar was outgoing and physically-minded. He took to military training, tactics, strategy, and command quickly and easily.

Then came the battle in Buhr Mahrling. Irin led the Karath contingent charging straight into an Easterling trap, and though they nearly broke free, Irin himself was pierced and died, leaving Bernar adrift. Seeing his father die and being unable to get there to help in time had a profound effect on the young man. He lived in a daze for weeks. Then came the anger.

He blamed the other commanders for not following Irin fast enough. He blamed the armorer who didn't notice the chink in Lord Irin's ringmail. Most of all, he blamed himself for not getting there in time.

He gradually neglected his duties. First came whoring in Esgaroth, where at least he was in the location he ought to be. He gradually made his way to Iach Celduin, leaving the running of the family to his uncle Barlin, uncaring about burdening his old age. He fought in Iach Celduin against the invading orcs, and that was the last time he fulfilled his duties.

Finally he made his way back to Buhr Mahrling. He ignored all messages, dismissing messengers, trashing and burning their scrolls. He began launching independent raids against the Easterlings with those armsmen who had remained with him and loyal throughout his self-destruction. His sword did not have a name that he knew, and Bernar was not usually poetic, but he named his sword Nepenthe, 'the cure for sorrow,' as he found solace only in killing his enemies. The garrison at Buhr Mahrling took to lending him recruits who were considered trouble for his raids and ambushes of Easterlings. Not all came back, but those who did came back hardened. Bernar was tireless in his efforts to make all Easterlings pay for Irin's death.

This blade Bernar named so casually was a gift to House Karath from their friends the Dwarves of Erebor in Irin's youth. It was meant for Irin, though he preferred the warhammer. And the dwarves' gift was pointed, in more than one way. In dwarven runes along the blade were the name of its smith, the smith's father, the names of House Karath and Dale, and the single word: Discipline.

Finally Bernar realized that all his anger and destruction of the Easterlings was bringing him further away from his father, not closer, and he despaired. Contemplating suicide over the piss-poor ales in Buhr Mahrling, he met an unlikely visitor: a dwarf. Why he was in such a forsaken spot, he didn't say, but Bernar had his sword out, spinning it point-down on the dirt floor while he drank. Finally, the dwarf asked how a blade with such a noble history came to such a man. Bernar angrily identified himself as Lord of House Karath, but the dwarf laughed at him. "The rune," he said, pointing at one of them on the blade. "The blade is named Discipline. It appears to be the only discipline you have. Do not lose it."

The blade meant as a message to be heeded by his father was even more appropriate to the son. He saw in the sword his selfishness, his neglect, his dereliction of duty - his loss of identity as a Karath, for duty, honor, and courage are the House's hallmarks. He resolved to return to Esgaroth and fulfill his obligations, to be a Karath in deed as well as name, or else perish in the attempt. For the first night in a long time, his dreams that night were not anguished. He felt peaceful. It was not to last.

For when a message finally reached him, one like the many missives from Oriana and Esgaroth that he had ignored, he read it. It was news of a battle to be fought with orcs, that Oriana was leading the Karath troops, and that she expected to die in battle. In the time that the message took to reach him, he was surely too late. But he set out as fast as he could with those few guardsmen who were with him still.

The man who arrived in Laketown seeking Oriana, hoping against hope that she was still alive, was not the self-absorbed, grief-stricken, vengeful man who saw nothing but his own pain. In a very real sense, the man seeking death had found it. The experience of complete moral failure sobers a man. Bernar has a lot to make up for, but he will bear any burden and pay any personal price to do so, even if it takes the rest of his life. Karaths fulfill their duty, and he is a Karath once more.