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Fanngrim Peace-Breaker
Male Awnsheigh
Player: Celticman
General Information
Full Name: Fanngrim Peace-Breaker
Nicknames: Nullus, Hound of War, Folcvig, Rust Knight, Precious Nully, NuNu, Nookums, Nullypoo, Nulferatu, Noomies, NiNi, Nooster, NaNaNoBana, Doomy-Schnoomy, Katya's Wife, Doomdaddy, Nullpoosnuckdums
Age: 45
Deity: Belinik
Occupation: Scion of Belinik, Siege Engineer, Demolition Expert
Faction/Rank: Doomguard / Doomlord
Place of Birth: Velenoye, Vosgaard, Aebrynis
Physical Attributes
Height: 84inches(2.13 meters)
Weight: 280 lbs(127 kg).
Eyes: Obsidian Black
Hair: N/A
Complexion: Dark, super edgy
Physical Build: Endomorph
Physical Features: Dark, ebony skin with shadows rippling across the surface.
Tactician and warrior. He has mastered the use of the halberd and can use it to great effect. He also has an understanding of engineering and siege weaponry.
Equipment and Items


Before you stands an imposing figure, almost defying the concept of mere humanity with his towering stature of nearly ten feet. His countenance remains forever veiled behind a mask that bears the ominous emblem of the Doomguard, shrouding his features in an air of mystery. A subtle trace of a Mongolian accent colors his speech, adding a unique cadence to his words.

His attire is an unsettling tapestry of gruesome mementos, showcasing his prowess and the tales of his conquests. Adorning his form are macabre tokens, such as a necklace strung with an array of teeth, each telling a story of a past victory. A pair of desiccated hands are affixed to one of his pauldrons, a grim reminder of his relentless nature. Around his waist, an eldritch war banner is fastened, adorned with elvish inscriptions that hint at his enigmatic past.

The darkness that envelopes his wings lends an aura of shadowy dread, their ethereal tendrils swirling around him like a cloak of darkness. Multiple shadows seem to dance and writhe in his wake, an uncanny phenomenon that adds to his mystique. The exposed skin, as deep and impenetrable as the midnight sky, is embellished with intricate tattoos resembling crimson runes, imbuing his form with an otherworldly significance.

Fanngrim's past is woven with a sinister thread, where he once held the ominous title of the head Hound under the command of Byrri Yarmoril, the dreaded Arch-Lector of Plague-Mort. His tenure as a commanding figure within the city's militia casts a shadow that chills the bones.

With an iron grip, Fanngrim led the city's defenders, though his leadership bore the mark of malevolence. Revered by some as a commander, he became infamous for his cruel and sadistic tendencies, inflicting brutal punishments upon the citizens for even the most minor transgressions. The cries of those who suffered beneath his rule echoed through the streets, a testament to his vile reign.

In the dark alleys and hidden corners of Plague-Mort, whispers spread like a contagion, telling tales of those who crossed Fanngrim's path and mysteriously vanished without a trace. His methods invoked fear that permeated every brick of the city, as shadows cast by his actions stretched far and wide, leaving a wake of trepidation and despair in their path.

Fárbjóðr ór Kveykva

Nullus' halberd stands as an embodiment of sinister craftsmanship, a creation born from the depths of wicked imagination. Its blade, a sinister void captured in material form, exists as an abyssal expanse devoid of starlight's touch. Light itself recoils from its surface, unable to gain purchase upon its inky depths.

With a sweep of its shadowed edge, the halberd enacts a grisly ritual. As the weapon takes life, it manifests a nefarious power, extracting the very essence of existence from its victims. Their life-force is drained, leaving behind only desiccated husks, the remnants of what once was. The act of slaying is a conduit, channeling stolen vitality back into the heart of the Sinker, renewing its own sinister energies. To undo the baleful effect visited upon the fallen, only the most potent of divine interventions—a True Resurrection or the magics of Wish and Miracle—can mend the torn connection between soul and form, so brutally severed by the weapon's embrace.

Curiously veiled in mystery, the origins of Fárbjóðr remain shrouded in secrecy, an enigma that even Nullus guards closely. Whispers carried through the ages sing of the blade as a fragment hewn from the very fabric of nothingness—a shard of voidstone—an embodiment of the cosmos' dark void. It is told that the weapon's existence was bestowed as a gift from Belinik, the Prince of Terror, the very embodiment of strife's dominion. The blade's malevolent chant lingers in the air, weaving a story of dread and domination, a symphony of whispered horrors that resonate with the deepest echoes of dread.

The very aura of Nullus deflects benevolence. Attempted mending through healing spells, driven by kindness and mercy, finds itself met with an unyielding force. Something within the weapon, an unseen malefic presence, repulses such attempts at restoration, a testament to its complete immersion in the essence of wickedness.

Homeland: Velenoye

Nullus' clan is known as the Svartulfr or Shadow Wolves and spent many generations as nomadic warriors that pillaged as they moved. When the evil god Azrai called upon the Vos and corrupted them, the Svartulfr became renown as the most vicious and bloodthirsty of all the other clans.

When Nullus was born, his mother, Miroslava gave birth to him in the battlefield, amidst a skirmish against a company of Gheallie Sidhe Silver Lance Riders, elves of the Tuar Annwh that the Vos have warred with since the fall of Azrai. His mother's handmaids helped deliver her son, but as they cut the cord a sidhe warrior ran into the tent and tried to kill Miroslava. She was the wife of Vsevolod, Hospodar of the Svartulfr, and she was no stranger to battle. She fended off the assault then took the severed cord and proceeded to choke the sidhe with it, killing him. She ended up dying later in battle.

Vsevolod was the Hospodar of the clan, their leader. He raised Fanngrim and his older brother Milivoj as great warriors. They served the Prince of Terror.

The Outlands


When Fanngrim was about twenty years old, the Svartulfr of Velenoye were attacked by a full battalion of sidhe warriors and mages. They were outnumbered 10 to 1. The clan fought hard, but their numbers dropped from about 3,000 to approximately 500 men, women and children. The surviving Svartulfr fled and scattered across Velenoye. A group of them, including a gravely wounded Vsevolod that was led by a wounded Milivoj found a twisted Awnsheghlien witch who opened a Gate for them, leading them to the Outlands, near Plague-Mort; Gate Town of the Abyss.

Nullus’ Trophies

  • Shoulders- Pelt of a worg pack mother, taken as a rite of passage when Fanngrim was a boy. These worgs lived deep within the Grovnekevic Forest.
  • Helm- Made from the cooled magma of Mount Mungoth, Gehenna
  • Neck- A string of teeth from great foes (7 in total)

1) Bellos of the Bold Eye, frost giant wizard

2) Rasstlunn, Death Slaad minion of Ssendam, Slaad Lord of Madness

3) Lance Major Delwynndwn, Sidhelien warrior of the Gheallie Sidhe, Silver Lance Riders of Tuan Annwn

4) Igjarjuk, (adult)white dragon from the Orlenaskyy Mountains

5) Trargukx Bloodeye, Savage Gnoll Slaver from Gnoll Fell

6) Esishmal the Jagged Fang, Human Zegraki ( Cannibalistic human found in Ice March)

7) Lochnor, Bugbear Chieftan from the Western Orlenaskyy Mountains

  • Right Pauldron- Skull of a Cornugon (blood war Lt Marshall on Oinos

-Twisted haggard hands of Ersebet Andrushko, an Awnsheghlien witch from Ust Atka (The Raven's Domain)

  • Right forearm - Bones of a Marilith
  • Left Pauldron- Skull of an Ogre
  • Left Forearm- Chitin from the hust of Gelugon (Ice Devil)
  • Waist- Blue banner bordered in gold with elven runes ( Gheallie Sidhe Silver Lance Riders) In the middle of the banner is two crossed lances is a shield with a 16 pt star in the middle of it.

-one troll skull.

The Chant:

  • It's said that Nullus is cannibalistic, and all of his teeth are filed down to sharp points.


"Th' oldest and strongest emotion o' mortals is fear. And th' oldest and strongest kind o' fear is fear o' th' unknown."

"Before ya', is only victory. Behind ya', only conquest."