PC: Finjaaqeen "Finjaq"

Human Rogue
Good-natured scoundrel whose massive northlander frame belies a cat burglar's athleticism.

Born in the far north, the son of a fisherman in a barbarian tribe, Finjaaqeen grew up to find his brash, adventurous spirit a sharp contrast to his tribe's stoic traditions. He ran away from his village in his teens to sign onboard a merchantman, spending the next several years climbing rigging, hauling up masts, and wasting his pay on exotic tattoos from distant lands. He made friends easily with the scoundrels and sea dogs he sailed with and quickly found his named shortened to the more wieldy "Finjaq."

Finjaq enjoyed much of his time on the high seas, but found he was having second thoughts those occasions when he sailed alongside full-bore pirates. There was satisfaction in capturing the ship of some wealthy fop, his galleys rife with slaves, but too often their targets were honest merchants likely to end up in ruins for losing only a single ship. Finjaq had enough of his tribe's noble traditions in him to know he was crossing a line. He was also superstitious enough to fear the god Kord would one day drag his ship to the bottom of the sea in retribution for his actions.

In the end he jumped ship and found himself bumming around port towns and even larger cities. His money dwindled and, old habits dying hard, he found himself turning once again to thievery – this time, however, as a cat burglar who targeted only the corrupt and ridiculously opulent. There was just something about a blue blood twisting in the wind that always warmed Finjaq's barbarian heart.

Several more years passed. In that time, Finjaq, usually a free operator, kept on the move to avoid the wrath of local thieves guilds – no easy task when he was a full head taller than most and sported a faceful of tattoos. Money came and went as fast as he could spend it, but more recently, Finjaq's been looking to turn his skills toward bigger rewards. Maybe adventuring. Maybe something away from bigger cities. Maybe give the thieves guilds time to cool off…

At 6'8", 280 lbs., no one's likely to miss that Finjaq's got barbarian blood coursing through his veins. Unlike most of his countrymen, however, Finjaq worked to improve his speed and agility rather than strength alone. Years of clambering up and down rigging and, later, working as a second story man, has given him a catlike grace that belies his size. He wears a long mustache, but no beard, and his shaggy, chestnut hair hangs at shoulder's length. Tribal tattoos from a score of different ports criss-cross his face, arms and chest, and he prefers wearing leather armor cut to show them off. Finjaq's more the grinning scoundrel than barbarian brute, but he has no qualms about playing up his fierce heritage to intimidate.

In battle he swings a shortsword, usually balanced by an exotic dagger in the opposite hand. Lately he's been playing around with thrown blades, particularly a set of finely-designed shurikens "liberated" from the coffers of a corpulent moneylender with a penchant for collecting weapons.