Races

 

Barbarian Hero_A bald head version front view by Shieldwolf Miniatures
  • Barbarian Hero_A bald head version front view by Shieldwolf Miniatures
  • Barbarian Hero_A bald head version rear view by Shieldwolf Miniatures
  • Barbarian Hero_A helmet version front view by Shieldwolf Miniatures
  • Barbarian Hero_A helmet version rear view by Shieldwolf Miniatures

Barbarian Hero A

CODE: NA-401

8.00

General Description

Barbarian Hero A (Krumvaal Northern Alliance)

This product consists of one Barbarian Hero A resin miniature. A second head option without helmet is included along with a plastic 25mm square base.

This product comes supplied unpainted and requires assembly (glue&paint not included). Pictures are for demonstration purposes only.

 

“In the land where true beasts roam, we are more beasts than them all…”

Barbarian Hero A (Krumvaal Northern Alliance)

The two of them kept on walking. The sun had risen a lot when they once more, came to a stop. Beneath them lied an opening, leading to a big hidden cave. “Old Mekrabuk said his son saw a bear roaming around these parts,” said his father. “He doesn’t know that I actually tracked her down. That’s where she lives.” And by saying that, he pushed his son downhill, making him come crawling in front of the caves’ entrance.

Little did Barduk realize at the time that his fathers’ tension had reached his limits. They never allowed their feelings to get away. Not when it came to tutoring their children. That’s why the important upbringing falls on all the males. And race traditions enjoy the supreme lack of mercy. Life is harsh. Better let them know this from a young age. But it’s also important to let them take their own decisions. The youngster had to make a choice; he would either run in front of the bears’ appearance, or he’d draw his sword to defend himself. And in that case, the father would run to aid his son, slaying the bear having her caught on the back by surprise. His choice would decide his fate. Every Krumvaal father has a trial for each of his sons. Usually they repeat the trial their own fathers had made them go through. No hard feelings if the son runs away. Not all men are born to be equal. The stupidities some of the humans sustain are no more than the living proof of their weakness. Barduk’s father had failed this test. And so had his grandfather. But his great-grandfather had not, and as long as there was the same blood flowing in their veins, there had to be a moment that the blood had to return to the heart. And that moment maybe had arrived once more.

Barduks’ father heart skipped a beat and his jaw lost all muscle power as gravity accompanied it while it dropped down. The youngster had drawn his sword and was walking in the cave, although the bear hadn’t yet gone out of it yet. And it would’ve never done so either, since Barduk had decided to take her life. His father stayed where he was. An internal fight of anxiety, glee and fright was taking place. An instant later he snapped out of it, making a run to aid his son. But he didn’t make it in time to take a second step and his fingers had barely made contact with his sword when he heard a moaning sound. It cut his ears like a blade, and the sweat seemed to him blood. A shower of relief washed it away when a moment later he saw his son exiting the cave. Barduk looked up, and with a great deal of thick blood dropping all over, he shouted to his father, “Too heavy to lift. Come give me a hand”.

There was a great feast that night at Arkar. And nothing else remains other than his fathers’ words: “Know this my son; There comes a time that every man must choose the path he’ll take to meet his destiny. Some paths are heavily stepped on. Others have but few visible tracks. You my son… you drew your own path…”.

Tales in the streets of Gal'Andur.

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