Maks the Barbarian


Gender: Male

Kit: Normal

Location: Unknown


Alignment: Hero

Team: The Heroes From Vikingland


Strength: supreme (rank 3)

Agility: standard (rank 1)

Mind: standard (rank 1)

Body: supreme (rank 3)

Spirit: (rank )

Charisma: (rank )


Fame Points: 0

Personal Wins: 0

Personal Losses: 6

Team Wins: 0

Team Losses: 0

Tourney Wins: 0

Tourney Losses: 0


Status: Active


“Though historians often find themselves squabbling over matters of tiny detail, for that is a rampant epidemic that rages through their profession, certain legends do exist that even they choose not to bicker over, since the evidence uncovered recounts acts of such staggering courage and physical prowess that, any attempt at disputing it would only lead to the suspicion that such skepticism arises from sheer envy. One such figure is Maks the Barbarian, whose exploits (in his prime) may defy the laws of reality, but the authenticity of which is verified by a large chunk of the most reliable scribes of his era. The following poem, recovered only a few months ago by a UN-funded archeological expedition, is widely believed to have been written by Maks himself during his last days, when he had long abandoned his barbaric ways to become an iron-fisted ruler instead. It is claimed that, though still good at heart and an uncomprisingly noble man, he had become a controversial and self-loathing ruler by the end of his life, living in constant anticipation of an attempted coup.”

- Hitch Ganesan, from Introduction of “Angels Laughed and Demons Wailed”


“The poem reveals a paranoid and somewhat unstable old man, but one who nonetheless realizes that he cannot be defeated in battle. Though not perhaps capable anymore of sparring with Gods, defeating dragons barehanded and annihilating entire armies by himself, the old Maks who narrates the poem clearly remains a formidable foe by any standard and even seems to enjoy emphasizing it. The last section of the poem describes a conquering army that is apparently making its way to him after devastating his kingdom - many agree that this is perhaps the infamous Eelam war that was, until now, considered no more than a fable. Though it is not known what happened to Maks in the aftermath of the invasion, historians agree that it is unlikely any army would have been capable of capturing him, even at his advanced age.”

- Hitch Ganesan, from Chapter 4 of “Angels Laughed and Demons Wailed”

“To build a character profile of Maks is impossible through this poem, for it represents his frame of mind during the last days of his life, during which time he was nothing like the larger-than-life figure that his scribes boasted about. But scholars are hopeful that even this insight, small as it may be, will help spark further interest in this misrepresented figure and solidify the status of Maks the Barbarian as history’s mightiest warrior king.”

-Hitch Ganesan, from Conclusion of “Angels Laughed and Demons Wailed”


Still Your King!

     Weapon Master: superior (rank 2)


I know nothing of money and power, I was born under an open sky.

Beaten like an animal in the prison tower,thrown into a dungeon to die.

The angels laughed and the demons wailed, I fought my way through hell.

Rivers and oceans of hate I sailed, eyes dancing as my enemies fell.

I was a great king once and was loved by all, flowers and gold at my feet.

But now they mourn and await my fall, for they have no foe to beat.

The blade of the dagger, the poisoned wine, I dream of nothing but pain.

The priest chants with his arcane sign, but his efforts die in vain.

With gods I dined and dragons I fought, my valor knew no bounds.

With heroes I trained, by sages was taught, to guard the blood soaked grounds.

I have lost my strength and am past my prime, the days of glory gone.

I sit on my throne and bide my time, for death to blow his horn.

But come for me and you come for a fight, see my broadsword swing!

Fail and this is your final night, for I am still your king!


Have My Fill!

     Slashing Weapon: supreme (rank 3)


I was born a savage and rose to power, I am wiser than I look.

I was taught to ravage and never to cower for the countless lives I took.

I deserve to die or rot in a cell, for all my wicked deeds.

My cronies lie that all is well, that my subjects have no needs.

I know the truth but refuse to speak, I will always need my crown.

My kingdom’s youth call me a tyrant, plotting to bring me down.

A fight to the death is what I want, a noble hero’s end.

A great challenge is what they get, no matter whom they send.

With these withered hands and ancient eyes, I need one last kill.

Come at me you filthy dogs, I must have my fill!


All Your Lies!

     Combat Supremacy: supreme (rank 3)


The waving flags and the marching band, they may send you out to fight.

But my finest hour is close at hand, you cannot match my might.

Never forget this ancient war, I shall never grant you peace.

I shall exploit your every flaw and bring you to your knees.

My temper short and my hatred deep, you will burn before my eyes.

I will see your leader cringe and weep, he shall suffer before he dies.

Your armies sweep this untamed land, but this is the final night.

I shall bury you in the sweat soaked sand for a truly beautiful sight.

You heathens broke my sacred law, doing what you please.

I will break every head and every jaw, your treasures I shall seize.

My women you raped and my men you hung, my strength you wished to test.

I shall trap you, the oracle has sung, like rats in a serpent's nest.

Your elephants may charge, horses may leap, but I am as heartless as I am wise.

I shall grant you all some eternal sleep, as the cost of all your lies!