#nickytwothumbs

Look out for me, the one who has stolen nobles back from raging barrow wights and witnessed the burning of Ascalon. The one who spent months with The Kurzick Mob and retained both his sanity and his reputation. The one who has returned from the Underworld more times than anyone has a right to, and who treads paths in the shadow of the moon that others fear to speak of in the light of midday. I who have purified far away lands and brought the spears of the sun into the falling of night. I who have slain terrible beasts and seduced even more terrible women. I who have talked to Gods, conquered demons, and written songs that make minstrels weep. I who have seen attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion and watched c-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate...ok maybe not the last, but I am the one known as the Not Too Shabby Skill Hunting Spearmarshal and the Unluckiest Slayer of All, you may have heard of me...

Character Name: Nicky Two Thumbs

More Properly Known As: Ser Nicholas Tandayrian of House Tandayrian

House Motto: "time is fleeting"

House Sigil: a white tree on a dark green field

Race: Human

Nationality: Ascalonian

Gender: Male

Profession: Ranger

Skills: Huntsman and Leather Worker

Approximate Age: Early 30s Appearance Details:

Tall and lean with wide shoulders and a shock of red hair, Thumbs is easily recognizable as he travels the countryside with his quick wit and a ready smile (only slightly marred by a broken tooth) across his sharp featured  face.

Background:

Although he was brought up as a member of House Tandayrian, no-one knows who his real parents were as he was left at an orphanage as a babe in arms. When he was adopted by Lord and Lady Tandayrian, the priestesses of Dwayna who ran the orphanage told them that he was blessed by Balthazar because of his red hair and the fact that he had not cried once in their care. As he became aware of his origins (or rather lack of them) Thumbs grew into a willful child with a wild streak a mile wide and started to run with the street rats that infested the lower levels of Divinty's Reach. He was rescued from a swift spiral into petty thievery and violence by the game keeper of his friends estate, (the now) Lord Faren, who showed him the beauty - and the bloody truth - of the lands outside the walls of the city.

He took his nickname from an old document detailing the deeds of an ancestor of his adoptive parents which read -

"...look out for me, the one who has stolen nobles back from raging barrow wights and witnessed the burning of Ascalon. The one who spent months with The Kurzick Mob and retained both his sanity and his reputation. The one who has returned from the Underworld more times than anyone has a right to, and who treads paths in the shadow of the moon that others fear to speak of in the light of midday. I who have ended the War in Kryta and sent the Great Destroyer back to the Hell that spawned it. I who have purified far away lands and brought the spears of the sun into the falling of night. I who have slain terrible beasts and seduced even more terrible women. I who have talked to Gods, conquered demons, and written songs that make minstrels weep. I who am known as the Defender of Ascalon, the Skill Hunting Spearmarshal and the Unlucky Slayer of All. You may have heard of me...

The world was coldly frozen,

And blinded now with snow, 

When the Frost Wolf Oriir Great Tooth snatched an Ox up from below. 

Red upon white fell the blood of the Ox, 

Rippen'd and ruined and savaged across. 

The air shook apart as a boy with no beard splintered his crook with a roar. 

He leapt o'or pasture with a singular bound to fall upon fearsome Oriir. 

Red upon white fell his hair 'cross the beast, 

He bludgeoned him down with a stick in each fist. 

And he raged at the beast as it's jaws crashed like thunder, 

And he raged at the beast as it's teeth flashed like lightning.

Red upon white fell the blood of the child, bitten and torn in a frenzy most wild.

They fought and they wrestled, and they stabbed and they clawed, 

Howling and roaring like a monster un-thawed.

Red upon white sprayed Wolf blood and Norn,

Ripping and tearing in the mountains that morn.

Thumbs and Oriir neither giving an inch, 

As they fought to the death in their brutalist clinch.

Red upon white fell the blood of Oriir, 

As Thumbs slashed his throat from Wolf ear to Wolf ear. 

The Frost Wolf Oriir had fallen at last,

To the hero Two Thumbs whose legend is vast,

Whose deeds carry on every day from the past,

And follows his future by tracking his path.

xXx

'Twas the year he did mature,

That Thumbs did nearly meet his match,

By boasting he would drink and win,

'Gainst any in the Hall of the Ettin King.

He stood and swayed and shouted loud,

"I've drunk a horn in every hall, from Hoelbrak's heights to Jormag's Falls! 

No-one has yet to beat my boast,

And so I'll offer you this toast -

I swear before most mighty Bear, 

That if I lose this fair and square,

I will as forfeit shave my hair!"

A giant stood tall amongst his kin,

and cried aloud above the din,

"I will drink you drink for drink!"

He'd had a few before methinks!

The crowd dids't cheer and bets were made,

Against to whom the razors blade. 

A mighty horn they took in hand,

The biggest jugs in all the land!

And so the crowd did start to bellow,

In order for the drink to swallow,

Norn and Giant did raise their vessel,

With pints of mead their throats did wrestle. 

The first the second the third the fourth,

They drank them faster than a horse. 

The fifth the sixth the seventh the eighth,

They palely looked in quite a state.

The ninth the tenth the eleventh the twelfth,

Their friends were worried for their health. 

The thirteenth horn was handed down,

They both received it with a frown,

They stopped and looked with eyes all blurry,

They licked their lips with tongues gone furry,

Threw back their heads to quaff the lot,

And both fell backwards on the spot. 

They who boast had best be best,

Lest totem spirits teach you harshly,

Mighty Thumbs may not have won,

But e'en so not come undone,

His legend grows each morn each night,

With each and every tale that's wo'en. 

xXx

Along the endless painted road,

Beneath the Bifrost splitted sky,

Young Two Thumbs came a travelling,

To see the world afar. 

He travelled from lands of icy snow,

To see the swathe of the blazing brand.

The black Charr home was on the rise,

When from the branded rocks beside,

He spied a crone besieged by beasts,

All crooked then and dripping spite. 

He crept upon the eerie feast, 

His bow in hand all twitchy fast,

At last he leapt with shouts "Ahoy!",

Laughing as he slew the beasts,

Sharp arrows filled the air like bees.

And when at last his foes were slain,

He turned to see the crone was there,

In other flesh she garbed herself,

Valharantha stood there tall and straight,

Of Thumbs she told was proud to say,

Snow Leopard in his heart did lay,

As proven by his acts this day. 

The world seemed young and empty then,

Along the endless painted road. 

Beneath the Bifrost splitted sky,

Young Two Thumbs came a travelling,

To see the world afar. 

He travelled from lands of icy snow,

To see the mighty mountain tree,

And 'haps to see the marvel place,

That city Rata Sum. 

In wastes that once were jungles see,

Where the dead were known to roam,

He came across a wizard folk who asked him questions three.

"Answer me this, big slow! 

Give me food, and I will live but give me water, and I will die. 

What am I? Eh? Eh?" 

"The answer little one is fire, 

now ask awa' your next most dire!"

"I can run but cannot walk. 

Wherever I go, thought follows close behind. 

What am I then Bookah?" 

"Your question is most like a trick, the answer I must caref'ly pick! 

Ha ha the answer is a nose! Come hurry now for time doth flow!"

"What is it that you will break? 

Even when you name it you insufferable oversized lout!?" 

Two Thumbs looked down on tiny wizard,

"SILENCE! If you'll keep your gizzard!"

The small one smiled, and grinned, and smirked,

Not the least Thumbs words did irk. 

A Raven'd shadow sprang from his form,

Dark wings and eyes that seemed to burn,

Thumbs knew then that the Raven blessed him,

In those parts of lands most western. 

The world seemed young and empty then,

Along the endless painted road.

Beneath the Bifrost splitted sky,

Young Two Thumbs came a travelling,

To see the world afar. 

He travelled from lands of icy snow,

To see the southern sorrow drowned,

The sea did glitter diamond chips,

As shadows swarmed from sunken ships. 

As sun did drift below the sky,

And night on darkened wings spun by,

Young Thumbs he spied a thief most cunning,

In a flash he set off running,

To save the purse of a traveller sharing,

His companions 'ghast and still staring. 

The thief he had quick disappeared,

Left Two Thumbs tugging on his beard,

He closed his eyes and cocked his head,

Soon heard a footstep dead ahead,

His eyes pressed closed to help his ears,

He showed courage beyond his years.

The thief he chased across the cliffs,

Sworn him to be torn into bits,

When at last the snatcher stumbled,

To his fate he should have tumbled,

Snatched from death right on the edge, 

He somehow floated to a ledge. 

When Thumbs looked he was astounded,

A wolf of light to him now bounded,

"Thumbs you make us proud again!"

Growled spirit of nae mortal ken. 

The world seemed young and empty then,

Along the endless painted road.

Beneath the Bifrost splitted sky,

Young Two Thumbs came a travelling,

To see the world afar. 

He travelled lands of icy snow,

From mountains high to forests low,

The Shiverpeaks and lands below. 

To Hoelbrak's hearth he was returning,

Could nearly smell spit-roasts a'burning. 

A voice did call out from the forest,

Offered Thumbs a chance of contest,

"Lift this urn and you will best me!",

Said ancient Norn who stood but chest high. 

Two Thumbs looked and loudly chuckled,

To lift the urn would cause no trouble,

He stretched an arm to grasp the neck,

But not a movement he could get. 

He frowned a moment and tried again,

Times'd his effort now by ten,

The urn did stay in it's position,

It's space in time now a condition. 

Two Thumbs growled, threw down his shirt,

Ground his feet into the dirt,

Grasped both hands around the bottle,

As though the neck he'd like to throttle. 

His arms grew bigger as he lifted,

His strength he'd always thought was gifted, 

His face turned red as autumn leaves,

As his breath began to wheeze,

With a shout to shatter mountains,

Sweat flowing from him like a fountain,

The urn didst move a tiny fraction. 

The aged Norn spoke now these words,

In tones that rumbled through the ages,

"Two Thumbs you have proved your worth.

This was no pot, it was the earth!"

Two Thumbs bowed to Bears disciple,

Resumed his walk to find his path. 

His legend still remains unfinished,

Along the endless painted road.