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My fight with Rot Heart the Fowler! - an account of the fight against the prime evils

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Description

I am a Barbarían, my people are from the cold steppes of mount arreat. We are no strangers to hardship or combat, my father was a guardsman of
Harrogath
, he roamed the bloody foothill, keeping back the unearthly monsters that had recently invaded our land. He taught me the ways of war, how to use our environment to our strength, and how to amplify our our strength through the flux of our will.

We barbarians are naturally strong, our lifestyle and environment forces us to grown strong when other stagnate. Speed, strength, resistance to the elements is part of all barbarians, but each may choose to
Concentrate
their individual skills to perfect their own way of war.

As a child i always wanted to hold a weapon, before i was a man i could wield a single
Axe
, sword or hammer with skill. However, when i become of age i chose to wield 2 weapons, and as my father liked swords i followed him. I Carried 2 swords into my first foray to defend mount arreat.

My father lead that foray, i was one of many defending our land. Our enemy in those days were weak, so we cut them down with ease. When my father saw my ability he taught me the art of harnessing the
Frenzy
… i had never known then that exhaustion was a concept of the weak of body and mind… i studied hard to master the way of a frenzied attack, learning how best to swing double weapons, how to
Taunt
mine enemies, increasing my stamina to prolong my attacks and how to rage further into a berserker state: where attacks hit beyond our normal plain of existence and strike into the magical plain.

Now that i was trained, my tribe sent me abroad: the elder
Malah
had heard evil rumours coming from the west, a place called
Tristram
. She bade me there, that i might find the source of the evil besieging mount arreat…

I travelled far to the west, where a deamon was awakened. I followed it’s trail through desert and jungle, until it lead me into the heart of the burning hells ítself… along the way fighting monsters and horrors i never dreamed would exist.


My battles took me to the very heart of hell: where fire rains from the sky, and the beings who exist in that infernal realm are in constant
Terror
, feeling the hatred of all, and wanting nothing but Destruction.

Knowing i must rid my world of these devils, i yearned to wade into this evil and free my world, but first i needed to obtain the required weapons. I had heard how certain weapons would bring Grief to our enemies, but as a barbarian who feels the blood lust of the
Frenzy
I needed to feel the Breath of the Dying, thusly i carried two blades each made for a colossus, fortified my body, and steeled my face to that of my homeland: mount arreat.

Kitted thus i rode the gore into the very river of hell. I waded deep, and the corpses of hellspawn were laid bare at my feet, for a time it was cathartic.

I was a sight to behold, i wielded great physical strength, with each strike and kill increasing my blood lust… but then i encountered a hellspawn i count not have anticipated: Rot Heart the Fowler. This vile creature guarded the throne room of the dark lord, and he was devote. He seemed immune to my physical attacks, while his were extra strong, he moved with demonic speed and then…

He smote me with some spectral hit, and all the daemons surrounding him seemed to increase their fanatical attacks…

I remember the first strike very well, i was too overwhelmed to
Dodge
, so a fowl sword struck me, enough to cause me to need time to recover… which was my downfall. One hit lead to another and before i knew it i was surrounded. Knowing my weapons useless i even tried my staff of teleportation … to no avail…the … HIT … wait … HIT … nooo … HIT…

I pray my father and tribe hear my final
Prayer
: Do not mourn me, i tried my best, fight on, even though i fail, you will succeed!

Honor my Spirit so that i May rest with Bul-Kathos
Description by Nate2.0
5

Can be used to make Runewords:

7
I am a Barbarían, my people are from the cold steppes of mount arreat. We are no strangers to hardship or combat, my father was a guardsman of
Harrogath
, he roamed the bloody foothill, keeping back the unearthly monsters that had recently invaded our land. He taught me the ways of war, how to use our environment to our strength, and how to amplify our our strength through the flux of our will.

We barbarians are naturally strong, our lifestyle and environment forces us to grown strong when other stagnate. Speed, strength, resistance to the elements is part of all barbarians, but each may choose to
Concentrate
their individual skills to perfect their own way of war.

As a child i always wanted to hold a weapon, before i was a man i could wield a single
Axe
, sword or hammer with skill. However, when i become of age i chose to wield 2 weapons, and as my father liked swords i followed him. I Carried 2 swords into my first foray to defend mount arreat.

My father lead that foray, i was one of many defending our land. Our enemy in those days were weak, so we cut them down with ease. When my father saw my ability he taught me the art of harnessing the
Frenzy
… i had never known then that exhaustion was a concept of the weak of body and mind… i studied hard to master the way of a frenzied attack, learning how best to swing double weapons, how to
Taunt
mine enemies, increasing my stamina to prolong my attacks and how to rage further into a berserker state: where attacks hit beyond our normal plain of existence and strike into the magical plain.

Now that i was trained, my tribe sent me abroad: the elder
Malah
had heard evil rumours coming from the west, a place called
Tristram
. She bade me there, that i might find the source of the evil besieging mount arreat…

I travelled far to the west, where a deamon was awakened. I followed it’s trail through desert and jungle, until it lead me into the heart of the burning hells ítself… along the way fighting monsters and horrors i never dreamed would exist.


My battles took me to the very heart of hell: where fire rains from the sky, and the beings who exist in that infernal realm are in constant
Terror
, feeling the hatred of all, and wanting nothing but Destruction.

Knowing i must rid my world of these devils, i yearned to wade into this evil and free my world, but first i needed to obtain the required weapons. I had heard how certain weapons would bring Grief to our enemies, but as a barbarian who feels the blood lust of the
Frenzy
I needed to feel the Breath of the Dying, thusly i carried two blades each made for a colossus, fortified my body, and steeled my face to that of my homeland: mount arreat.

Kitted thus i rode the gore into the very river of hell. I waded deep, and the corpses of hellspawn were laid bare at my feet, for a time it was cathartic.

I was a sight to behold, i wielded great physical strength, with each strike and kill increasing my blood lust… but then i encountered a hellspawn i count not have anticipated: Rot Heart the Fowler. This vile creature guarded the throne room of the dark lord, and he was devote. He seemed immune to my physical attacks, while his were extra strong, he moved with demonic speed and then…

He smote me with some spectral hit, and all the daemons surrounding him seemed to increase their fanatical attacks…

I remember the first strike very well, i was too overwhelmed to
Dodge
, so a fowl sword struck me, enough to cause me to need time to recover… which was my downfall. One hit lead to another and before i knew it i was surrounded. Knowing my weapons useless i even tried my staff of teleportation … to no avail…the … HIT … wait … HIT … nooo … HIT…

I pray my father and tribe hear my final
Prayer
: Do not mourn me, i tried my best, fight on, even though i fail, you will succeed!

Honor my Spirit so that i May rest with Bul-Kathos
7
Cool story bro.

Did your HC Barba made it to the halls of BK ?

Offer if price is not stated

⊕ Join New Tristram Talk! ⊕
____________________________

While the snow remains,
veiled in the haze of evening,
a cold leafless branch.
Flowers are only flowers because they fall,
but thankfully the Wind.
7
Indeed

Sweet Lovely Death
Just waiting for your breath
Come sweet Death
One Last Caress
9

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