Jakobb Hyiendis

Full Name: Jakobb Hyiendis
Age: 47 (47 at creation)
Race: Human
Birthplace: Westphalia, D'hennex, Earth
Status: Active
Faction: Power Wielder Hero, Tier 2 (1,000 ~ 10,000 PL)
IRL Years of Existence: 0 (Approved xxxx)

Fighting Style

As a big game hunter, Jakobb stalks very large prey, almost exclusively. Generally unconcerned with the affairs of men, Jakobb specializes in attacking large, unsuspecting targets in the wild from a great distance. A master of camoflage, Jakobb can slay and hide before the rest of the pack can ever find him, regardless of their ability to sniff him out.

Biography

As it is rather well known, D'hennexians generally hate technology. Ever since Alaris invaded its many lands, and ever since the natives repelled them by turning their reliance on technology against them, any remnant of scientific advancement has been an anathema. However, such a description cannot possibly describe every D'hennexian, as Humans, as a species, are unpredictable, by their very nature. As time has rolled on since the invasion, the fear of technology has very, very slowly been chipped away, especially as new visitors from Cardinal visit and make friends there. When Empirical Industries created a portal link to the continent, the flow worked both ways, with most technologically unfearing natives moving north to be assimilated into the modern world, while power wielders and other adventurers from Cardinal moved south to see what wonders D'hennex held. For the most part, those who didn't fall into one of those two groups stayed where they were.

Jakobb Hyiendis, then, falls somewhere in the middle. A Westphalian by birth but only rarely present in that country, Hyiendis enjoys the rough life. After having his head attacked by all manner of religious philosophy in his home country, he has found that the best religion for him is that of the natural order ... and I don't mean like tree hugging, animal-communing hippies. I mean the primal connection a predator holds to its prey, and the passive environment around him. Jakobb is a self-professed serial killer ... of beasts. His blood pumps in the hunt, and there is no pleasure in life for him that can rival that sweet release when he finally, decisively, and permanently ends the servile existence of a living thing, as he asserts his dominance over it. The greater the creature he slays, the greater a thrill that runs through him. It is more potent to him than the most powerful drug.

Driven by this heightened instinct, he has spent much of his life refining his skills and toughening his body to life in the rough. He became familiar with many kinds of hunting weapons, learning their strengths and weaknesses. Westphalia was far too tame and stiff for such pursuits, so he moved southward, starting in An-Yneaith and working into the fringes of Ka, where he silently watched the tribesmen hunt for their food. They were like him, yet unlike him; for the Kaians, they never killed more than they could eat, if they could help it. Their respect for the wildlife about them was borderline worship -- more pragmatic nonsense, about goddesses and balances. Jakobb may take a meal from something he kills, but most of the time, the majority of the carcass is left behind for the scavengers to tear apart. Hyiendis did not worry about whether or not the world around him could handle him; it had created him, and so would it bear him and his instincts. Should the ecosystem collapse around his head, he certainly would not shoulder any blame. He would merely move on, as would any self-respecting predator, in search of new prey.

Things changed, one day, when a Cardinalian merchant crossed the sea in a boat, bearing loads of special firearms. The woman advertised like a storm to Jakobb, who happened to be staying in a nearby town. Like most D'hennexians, the hunter was extremely skeptical, as technology was involved in all of the merchandise she sold. However, there was something different about these wares, and the way they were advertised, than the way most Cardinalians would pitch. In these weapons was an appreciation for the warrior in a man. These implements did not do the work for you, it merely was a tool that put your own work to better effect, like any weapon. When you squeezed this trigger, it wasn't just starting some chemical reaction, or shooting off an electrical impulse to an engine. It was really building your strength, only to release it instantly in the next moment, sending the simple metal slug forward as only your own physical prowess could do. These sights showed you the way, but no better than your eyes could judge; there were no fancy zooming lenses or scope. This barrel put your bullet on a path to death, but only if you had the skill and strength to hold it steady. Hesitantly, the man handed over a bag of gold that was meant to pay for his beer tab for the month, and bought himself a massive rifle, which he later called Big Bertha.

The weapon proved to be the match of any longbow, crossbow, or sling, just as the merchant had professed. More, if any snarky jerk decided to call him on his reliance on technology, he would happily hand the loaded weapon to them and charge them with the task of even firing the weapon in his general direction. The tough trigger rarely budged but under the meatiest fists, and even then the bullet rarely did more than graze him. ... He would proceed to take it back, load a bullet, and shoot the heckler in the foot in the time it would take another person to raise their weapon, using just the same motions. Jakobb's reputation rose from there, and as he gained a growing dependency on alcohol, he started dragging his biggest kills back to town, both for the money and to show off to other awe-struck hunters. For lack of a great mansion, many of Jakobb's more recent trophies can be found hanging on pub walls. Sometimes the prey is so huge that only a taloned claw could be displayed, or a single great tooth. It can be so hard to mount a 15-foot head on a wall...

Eventually, the hunter siezed the attention of indiscriminate nobles, and other well-to-do, who wanted their own trophies. In recent times, Jakobb has been called upon to help fell the surging tide of the undead, with their enormous death-fed automatons. While killing a machine was quite a bit different from killing a beast, it provided a different challenge, and Hyiendis loved to be the one to truly rub technology in the faces of those that truly depended upon it. His thundering shots bypassed armor and crippled joints, ignited necrofurnaces, and turned no fewer than a dozen mechanical monstrosities into piles of foul-smelling junk. Not even the scavengers would touch such a corpse, and to Jakobb, that was justly fit. Machines have no place in the natural order of things.

As rumors now surface of horrible, exaggeratedly massive creatures bounding out of Ka to crush the innocent, a new hunt finds Jakobb Hyiendis's nostrils. He cares little for the lives of the innocent, except where it nets him an ale at the pubhouse, or a bag of gold. His primary goal, as it has always been, is to find the greatest beasts and declare, in one, ear-shatteringly loud BOOM, that he is their better, regardless of the whims of any foolish deities and demi-gods who think they transcend him.