Image of Horns

Summary: I don't associate with fools, but my axe does.


Owned by:

Gender: Male

Age: 29

Group: Knights/Warriors


Born within the Land of Larion.

Loyal only to himself, his morals, and his paycheck.


Horns the Awoken
Horns the Hunter
The Brute


Horns is a Half-Tor, which, full-blooded, are humanoid behemoths complete with a toothy maw and prominent fangs and tucks, and large jutting horns that occasionally vary in size and shape. By comparison Horns is rather small at only 6 feet and 10 inches, however what he lacks in sheer size he makes up for in speed. Horns has bluish leathery skin that has been scarred time and time again all over. His eyes are a milky white void with irises of divine glowing white light. He wears clothing styled to conceivably exist in both advanced and archaic settings, with simple brown boots, ragged brown pants that resemble ripped jeans, a ragged off-white shirt under a brown leather jacket adorned with various tropies of kills including bones, furs and other dried animal and humanoid parts.


Horns is quiet and keeps to himself, especially during work, is work usually being hunting or protecting someone. Some have managed to get him to speak to them or perhaps reveal things about himself, though not many. Horns seems to have a rough-around-the-edges but still existent moral compass, and despite the grisly actions his work may sometimes require, usually adheres to that compass. It's what Briony would have wanted.

Brief History

Born on a world called Larion, Horns' mother was a human maiden of a small town. Horns' father was a monster, a full-blooded type of beast known as a Tor, a race of goblinoid behemoths that were said to have been descended from dragons, as they possessed skin as thick as wood and were capable of spitting fire. During a raid on the humble village, the beast had cornered the young maiden and thought to have his way with her. He was driven off, along with the others, as spell casters and grand knights pushed the raiding party back, but by then it was too late, and the Half-Tor was conceived. Much of Horns' early life was filled with hardship. Nothing was sugar-coated. As a young boy, his horns were but small nubs, his fangs but bumps, and his skin was blued but soft, he appeared to hold within him innocence, and his mother saw this, in spite of the grisly circumstances regarding his conception, she grew to love him. As Horns grew to appear more and more monstrous, towering over other boys his age and looking less and less human by the day, the benefit of doubt began to fade. He was a monster, just like the ones who had killed so many people that day, just like the ones that had attacked his mother, and after hearing it for so long, Horns began to internalize that. He acted out, he fought, and none of the puny humans who thought to bully him stood a chance. But his rage was reactionary, it always was, he did not start fights, he ended them. Alas, the townspeople saw no difference between a misunderstood half-blood and a half-monster. Before long, it was decided after an especially brutal and bloody fight between the Half-Tor and a group of boys that he was to be exiled, as he could not co-exist within their society. His mother knew that the boy's back was against the wall, but she could not argue against the entire town. She accepted her son’s fate, and with a final embrace on a moonlight night, the boy left the village and was told never to return.

Thus began Horns’ teenage years. Through angst and anger, the boy fought among the other beasts that inhabited the wilds, and with every victory, he became more and more efficient in the art of death. He would eventually come across raiders, who he would either sneak by or battle and outright kill to take thier food. Fighting intelligent foes bolstered the Half-Tor’s resourcefulness and adaptability in combat. After a few years of this, Horns finally encountered a foe he couldn’t defeat. A woman, she was fast, she could bend fire to her will, and in every combative skill Horns had perfected, it seemed she had mastered. She was a Tor, of full blood even, and she saw something in the young survivor. Besting him, she decided to help him in honing his skills, and for five years, the two did just that, and Horns began to look up to her and felt she was someone who could understand him more than any human. The two were an unstoppable force as well, at 17, the Half-Tor had come far under her tutelage, and the two fought in near unison. Eventually, though, they caught someone’s eye. After raiding a fortress under the protection of a prominent Lord, men were sent after them. This would not have been much of a problem, however, one of these men was a Tor Hunter, and he came prepared. In an unexpectedly strategic attack, the two were attacked, and foreseeing death, Horns’ mentor and only friend told him to run, which he did. The Hunter was a skilled magic user, which normally wouldn’t be much of a threat for a Tor’s thick skin. However this particular magic-user was exceptionally skilled, unexpectedly so, and his great bolts of lighting managed to pierce the Tor woman’s skin. She would fall.

Horns fled, and he knew she had died, and left him like so many others. His heart was heavy, but he pressed on. He would migrate closer and closer to civilization, as the human part of him desired to be near other people in a way that did not end in bloodshed. At 20, Horns would eventually muster the courage to return to society, albeit wearing wraps that completely covered his face. Still, he began to integrate himself among their ranks, posing as a Half-Orc wearing decorative horns, as he knew such people were generally more accepted amongst humans compared to Tor. He began to work as muscle, and was damn good at it, his clients would often rehire him after a job well done due to his extreme effectiveness and discretion. But one fateful day came when the Lord who had ordered him and his mentor executed called upon the Half-Tor, knowing him as extremely effective and not at all recognizing him. Horns knew, though. The Half-Tor did as he was told, and received his payment, but all the while he thought only of revenge. He resisted, though, and continued getting his payment. That was until he was deployed on a mission with a mysterious mage. Horns was quiet and did his job as usual, however he overhead plots of an attack, and he realized he had been set up. The Lord had thought o clean things up, and sent a Tor Hunter out with him to slay him when the mission was over. But the Half-Tor was not the same boy from before, he was ready. Catching the Hunter Mage and his men by surprise, the Tor made short, brutal work of them, and with his rage still boiling, pressed on to the source. Suffice it to, the Tor’s vengeance was swift. Everyone save for the maids, women, and children were found slaughtered within the Lord’s manor, and the Tor had moved on.

His heart began to grow cold as death followed him, in mind and spirit. He began to wander, and happened across a town called Pickett, home to a supposed “Adventurer’s Guild”. Hearing the townspeople refer to them as “heroes”, Horns thought them fools at first, but found himself gravitating more and more toward the idea. Eventually, a thought passed his mind, “What If I change?” The idea was too tantalizing to resist for long. Eventually, the Half-Tor gave in. He signed up, and over time, those people began to accept him, for they themselves had been at one point regarded as outcasts. Now, Horns did not only have someone who understood him, he had a family. He still remembers fondly the night he took his bandages off and showed his face to the girl he liked, and rather than turn away from him and think him hideous, she accepted and respected him. Alas, Horns was a warrior, he was wicked, and there was no rest for the wicked.

Out hunting one day, Horns discovered strange men lumbering through the woods, they wore strange black clothing, complete with tactical vests and gear. They held long-ranged weapons that fired projectiles in rapid bursts, it was unlike anything he had ever seen. Still, Horns feared for his friend’s safety and engaged them, ripping their ballistic clothing apart and breaking their weapons. He pressed on, finding a small encampment, and a strange portal. He was unfortunately discovered by the strangers’ superior detection equipment, and Horns’ did battle. He was vicious, and he slaughtered every last one of them, for they were not prepared for a foe of such speed and violence. Horns then inspected the portal, but just as he got close it began to tug on him with a force so great that he had to hold on to a nearby table to resist it. But it was already too late, the portal’s pull only increased, and Horns could resist no longer. His fingers slipped, and he was swept away from his world to one of stars and twilight.
Here, Horns met “The Being”, a god-like entity that had called upon him and a handful of others from different worlds to fight as a warrior of freedom and liberate the suffering worlds of the Multiverse. Horns discovered that he was “Soul-Charged” and that he held inside of him great potential. The desire to be a hero and not yet faded, and fueled by this desire (and some minor manipulation on the Being’s part), Horns accepted. He fought on distant worlds, all with the promise of saving his own, and he fought ferociously just as he had all his life. But this time, he lost. His world was lost to darkness, empires of powerful intergalactic warlords sweeping over it like a dark cloud over the earth below it, and the Being’s promises fell through. They were not strong enough, and Horns personally paid for it. His people were gone, enslaved and silenced by powers much greater than himself, and he was again alone. Leaving the Being behind, Horns return to the only thing he was good at, killing for hire, albeit on a much greater scale as he now knew of the multiverse. Eventually, the Being called on him once more, and though Horns was cold towards him, his will to fight for good had died, and the promise of a bountiful paycheck was simply enough. Horns doesn’t know what the Being wants of him now, and in all honesty, he couldn’t care less.


- Carries a long and light tactical axe complete with slick black steel for the blade and handle and a rubber grip. It looks like something a berserker would use if he was part of a SWAT unit.
- Horns carries a curved and serrated gutting knife. The knife is rather advanced in it's composition, having been constructed by means that ought to not exist quite yet.
- Horns has on occasion alluded to having once possessed and/or desiring to utilize a weapon called a "Shotgun", however, he does not currently possess such a weapon.


+ Horns is very capable in hand to hand and armed combat, being ruthless, lightning-fast, and extremely resourceful. His fighting style encourages the use of one's surroundings as well as the exploitation of weaknesses where ever they can be found.
+ As a Half-Tor, Horns is capable of breathing fire.
+ As a Half-Tor, Horns boasts hyper-regenerative abilities, meaning cuts and gashes heal in the midst of combat, allowing Horns far more durability than any normal combatant.
+ As a Half-Tor, Horns has thick leathery skin that is highly resistant to blunt force and moderately resistant to slashes. His skin is also somewhat resistant to magic.
+ Upon his Awakening, Horns gained the ability to engulf himself in flames when enraged, as well as some slight pyrokinetic abilities, and a complete immunity to even the hottest flames.
+ Horns has a unique ability to understand weapons and how best to use them with ease. Be it a hacksaw or a boomstick, Horns can wrap his mind around how best to use it relatively quickly.


- Horns will, at times, allow his burning anger to get the better of him, though these fits usually don't last long.
- Horns is utterly incapable of utilizing magic in any capacity beyond his innate abilities. He does not understand it, and though he is quite wise, he lacks the intelligence to fully comprehend it.
- Horns' greatest weakness lies in his moral compass, and his unwillingness, to a fault, to go against it. While many would not consider this a weakness, when working as a cold-hearted mercenary for very questionably moral employers, difficult choices can come by quite frequently.
- Physically, Horns is not resistant to non-elemental magic. While hard to come by, magic that does not resemble the elements tends to breach Horns' physical defenses rather well, such as curse magic, death magic, magic involving the forces of light or dark, and so on. The misconception is that Horns' skin is slightly magic resistant, the truth though, is that his strong regenerating skin is resistant to the elements, and magical elemental effects in kind, being so strong and durable as to ward off unnatural heats and piercing colds.

Favorite Sayings or Quotes

"I don't need a blade to run you through."
- Horns

"Don't stare at me, that's what the last guy did. The last guy's dead."
- Horns

"Assume that I'm a lumbering fool. That'll only make this easier."
- Horns

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