An aged goliath warden with a deep seated hatred of dwarves
The villagers of the tribe of Mar’Luk were once simple hunters and worshipers of the primal spirits. That all changed on the day of Sky Fall. The earth shook with pains and trembled in fear. The very trees mourned their fate. Then from the sky came a comet, it’s bright tail shining like a platinum sword. It struck the mountain the tribesmen called Mon’Kheg, silencing the looming volcano spirit forever. The tribesmen found the great stone and basked in it’s glowing presence. A great spirit came forth from the stone and bade them to listen well. It warned them that they must not speak of the stones presence lest those with greed in their eyes come destroy their village. The tribesmen vowed to protect the stone forever. Ingtar was but a boy when he made this vow. As time passed none came to claim the rock spirit. Ingtar grew old but he never wearied in his vigilance as some of the other tribesmen. When finally the dwarves came, claiming this ‘bahamite’ was theirs, the younger tribesmen were tempted with greed. Ingtar was old, but he fought for his life to protect the mountain spirit. The dwarves outnumbered them and slew the tribesmen with their alien weaponry. When Ingtar regained consciousness after the battle he found himself the sole survivor, protector of an empty whole. Grief stricken he climbed to the highest peak, resolved to end his life. The great storm spirit had other plans. Lightning struck him and he became one with it’s rage. Power coursed through his old limbs and his eyes filled with vengeance. He walked off into the desert, ever in search of retribution.