|Date of Birth:||
68kg Due to his avian traits
|Chronology & Political Information|
|[ Source ]|
Ferok Fen spent his fledgling years on his home planet of Talor shielded away from the galaxy like the rest of his species. He was hatched in the isolated swamps in the northern hemisphere which are now all but abandoned.
Ferok’s early years were spent training for the Talortai coming of age competition, which is a brutal and archaic method of sorting the weak from the strong, and ensuring that the strongest were put into positions of power.Before Ferok became fully of age he was entered into this competition, and in battle after battle he was able to swiftly force his opponents into relinquishing the fight proving that he was among the elite. It was in these moments Ferok found what he was truly meant to do in his life, the simplisity and simultaneous complexity of combat had truly captured his soul.
Ferok made his way to the finals and was suddenly at odds with himself, for the victor of the competition proves themselves a “master” of combat and is givin a political position within the government. Having been dubbed a “master” they also surpass the need for any combat, which would have otherwise been a large part of a Talortai’s life. With what little time Ferok had between fights he settled on a hard decision, to go for the victory. The final fight was different from the previous ones, the combatants would be wielding ornate 4foot long cylindrical branches. Ferok fought masterfully, as did his opponent, their strikes were vicious and swift and in the chamber of thousands nothing could be heard but the wooden weapons striking fiercely. In Ferok’s mind the fight seemed to run for ages but he reveled in ever moment of it, his staff seemingly becoming a part of his being. Until the wood could take no more, his overhead strike was so forcefull that Ferok’s weapon split just above the hilt. He was quick to try and recouperate and hoping to catch his oppent of guard he closed the gap between them and laid a flurry of punches and kicks, but his opponent weathered the assault and managed to retaliate with an even harsher one.
Ferok laid there, barely conscious, his forearm broken along with his ribs and the side of his beak. He was beaten, but not bested, his weapon had failed him. He clutched it close as he was carried from the arena not really sure why at first, the weapon was usless to him now. Through the course of his healing it became a symbol to him of how the only the only true weapon was ones self.
Ferok spent the next few decades travelling and competing in different competition for power all over Talor, always carrying the broken weapon with him. After his loss it took him years to come back to his fighting form, but when he started winning again he always withdrew from the final rounds refusing to fight with anything but his hands.
After managing to avoid conscription in the Great War Ferok learned of visitig traders tell tales of the inneumours civilazitions in the galaxy, which was counter to the widely held Talortai belief that there was nothing beyond the dense asteroid field that surrounded the planet. He soon became obsessed with the idea, becoming steadfast in his belief that there new challenges out there that could shape him and train him into becoming something stronger and more powerful then he could ever achieve on Talor. He managed to get a job on one of the merchant vessels after managing to severely cripple one of the crew in combat. Ferok spent the next few years travelling and working where he could find it, eventually managing to acquire his own ship.
This is when he started his true pursuit of seeking out the most powerful and skilled combat masters in the galaxy so that he could continue his pursuit of perfection in combat. In this pursuit Ferok was obsessive challenging anyone who he sensed would shape up to be a worthy combantant, he didn’t always win, but he did always learn. Ferok would use the travel time on his trade missions to train in a room that was baren except for the broken weapon of his past, the only possession he had kept over the years
On his travels Ferok heard rumours of a mute called Atra Ventus, after seeking him out and challenging him to combat. Ferok got shown the real potential of a warrior and was beaten in a fashion he hadn’t been on the receiving end of in decades. After recovering from the injuries he started hunting down Atra to learn more about his combat style which Ferok had never seen of before, and eventually his search lead him to Tarthos.
- Master - Atra Ventus