He is probably going to murder you or fuck your kid.
Sword +1 Souls: 15
Logan was born to a tribe in the snowy mountains up North. He grew up in a world of constant war and the only role he could ever hope to fill was that of a warrior. The leader of his tribe was a bloodthirsty and determined barbarian that wasn’t going to be satisfied until he had conquered all of his rivals. Logan had become the prized pet of his leader and not before long was renowned throughout the North as a murderous champion that would slay any who stood before his king. Years passed and hundreds lied dead in the wake of Logan’s bloodlust. His tribe had laid waste to nearly all of the remaining factions in the North, however, Logan’s resolve had diminished. With every battle came a sunrise where Logan had to face his handy work. When his rage had calmed and he had cleared the blood from his eyes, all that was left were corpses that he had created. He never felt guilt, but with each passing day the killing became less and less enjoyable. Logan began to hesitate when ordered to fight. He started questioning if this is what his life should be. Eventually those wavering doubts turned into detest for his leader. Logan challenged the tribe leader’s reign but was overwhelmed by his fellow barbarians. Beaten nearly to death and thrown into a gushing river, Logan had awoken in a dense forest. He rested for weeks, eating bark and drinking snow, waiting for his wounds to heal. The hunger, thirst, and cold had weakened his mind but the only thing he could do was sit and think about his past life. The guilt took over him, engulfing all other thoughts. It made him sick and crazy. Dementia set in from his weakened state and Logan was trapped in a fever dream. With time he came to his senses and with even more he was able to walk. So he did the only thing he could and made his way down South to another world, as another man.