Asbjörn

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Gender: Male.
Age: 33 years.
Race: Heimgardr human.
Languages: Heimtunga (native), Common (Basic knowledge) Astanién ((Basic knowledge)
- In Heimgardr he speaks in a clear southern dialect, but in common, and even Astanién, a heavy Heimgardr accent permeates his speech. He struggles with many grammatical concepts in both common and Astanién, but knows enough to get by in his daily life in either language. Being born in a land without letters has put him in bad circumstance when it comes to learning reading and writing, and as such he is still without any knowledge of it all save for a very select few of the mystical runes native to his homeland.
Birthplace: Suðrtun, Heimgardr.
- Asbjörn was born on a large farmstead just east of the coastal village Suðrtun. Living in the southern part of Heimgardr spared his family the very harshest experiences of snow and cold, but father winter still bit the land hard.
Occupation: Mercenary.
- As a Heimfolk raider turned sellsword, Asbjörn usually has no hard time finding work in the forsaken lands, even if the inhabitants and the land itself still hold little love for him.

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Hair Color: Light brown.
Hair Style: Side-shaved ponytail.
- A traditional style of hair on the western island. It holds cultural connotations known only to the Heimfolk.
Facial hair: Full beard.
Eye Color: Blue.
Skin Tone: Medium fair.
Height: 6ft - 182 cm.
Weight: 81 kg - 180 lbs.
Body Type: Athletic.
- Asbjörn's body proudly carries many marks of battle, having been scarred and battered time and time again. One look at his body is enough to tell it is forged from, and for, a harsh life.

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Skills & abilities:

Asbjörn is farmer and fighter equal. He was born and raised on his father's farmstead, and as such knows much about the art of agriculture and animal husbandry. He was a curious man however, and wanted to see the legendary eastern lands from a very young age. As such he saw much experience as a raider of the eastern coasts from as early as the age of 15.
In combat he fights in a way typical to his Heimgardr brethren. Direct, aggressive, efficient, and clever. He does what is necessary to get the job done, when it is necessary to do it, using whatever tools are available. He improvises weapons out of countless everyday objects that are at hand, using them in preference to conventional weapons at times when the improvised weapon has an advantage. But most of all: he uses his weapons in unexpected ways.
He is a great warrior, there is no doubt about it. But even the greatest warrior can be felled by a single weak fool with a dagger who got lucky.

Asbjörn seems to also hold a peculiar interest in other cultures and religion, particularly Saint-Astan. This has manifested in a modest knowledge about Astaníen customs and nobility, despite being unable to read or write.

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Backstory:

"Gold and riches will be yours, Asbjörn. As much as you can carry. Fight with us." Gæirmund was enthusing, clasping his drinking-horn tight. Asbjörn grinned, and was about to respond when he felt something splash over him, and his eyes threw open as he jerked awake violently.
The white shapes of birds were floating effortlessly above, crying their gull's cries. A very brief look around was all it took to establish that he in fact wasn't home on his father's farm, and Gæirmund was in fact not visiting him to share a drink. That had been weeks ago.

Now they had washed up on a beach, in a land unknown. Mountains, trees, and water. Apart from the shattered wreckage of their longboat and his friends washed up all along the shore with him, there was nothing else to see.
Asbjörn looked to his right, where his brother Kveldulf lay within arm's reach, still without consciousness. A lazy lean and an even lazier slap woke him up quickly, however, and the newly awoken castaway looked up at Asbjörn in confusion.
"I think we have arrived." Asbjörn proclaimed, a smirk creeping across his face.

Nearly thirty raiders had set out from Suðrtun's port. Those thirty had been reduced to only seventeen, the rest having been lost to the storm. The survivors decided to follow the sun to the east, their only hope of survival was to find the civilization that they would have raided, had misfortune not taken them.
An illogical will to live drove the reduced-strength warband through harsh mountain passes and harsher wildlands, which only served to lower the number seventeen to ten. And as they arrived in Saint-Astan, ten sunk to three. Asbjörn was amongst the few that lived, but was wounded and captured by an Astanian lordling, and circumstance saw him spend the next nine years in the "east-lands" as he calls them.
How he escaped the lord and how he got to Estavyr, are other stories entirely.

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Weaponry and apparel:

A combination of cost and will to stay unencumbered and mobile prevents Asbjörn from wearing much in the way of protection. A softer leather jacket over his thick wool clothing is all that stands between him and rended flesh should something get past his shield. This seems no easy feat, however, as his large rounded shield of typical Heimgardr make is still in use to this day, with each chip and break carefully mended to keep it in fighting shape. Despite the constant repairs and mendings, however, it still an etching of what appears to be some sort of bird, its wings proudly spread over a bright blue background.
His main weapon is also still the same as the day he set out from his native island, and it is clear that the simple-looking Heimgardr axe made from iron has been well cared for, a tied loop in his belt acting as a resting point for it. Clothes and armour from the main continent coupled with weapons from Heimgardr gives him weird rag-tag sort of look, especially when one considers the 40 centimeter short backup sword that sits in a sheathe on the front of his belt. Is it just a simple-minded plan B, or does it serve some other purpose?

RAGNAR LOTHBROK!

Now that I've gotten that out of my system, I'll actually read this.

...Hm, the biography is a little sparse, barely enough information on the character for my tastes, but it's passable. I know from past experiences watching you RP that you aren't a powergamer at all and play to lose whenever feasible (and sometimes when it doesn't even make sense, lol). So I'll give this my blessing.

I am interested in meeting your character, it would be good to see.
As for your picture, I approve. I only hope our characters fates are just as grand.

Accepted.