| Pfarberk Sthalorhsyn
|| Sea Wolves
| Place of Birth
|| Thaliak, the Scholar
|| 16th Sun of the 6th Umbral Moon, 1530
| Marital Status
|| Caravanner, drunk
1530-1547: Childhood and Family
Pfarberk was born into an average life in the city-state of Gridania. His mother and father were loving and kind, but very strict parents. Prior to his birth, his parents relocated to Gridania on the mother's wish of loving the forest and wildlife. His father was not as fond of nature. Pfarberk grew up not being allowed to do much without the supervision of at least one of his parents. The few things he was allowed to do on his own were chores. He had less freedom than most kids, but his father's wealth gave him a life more comfortable than most. That was until his father decided to be greedy and convinced his wife that they should move to Ul'dah. The father's new dream formed when he spoke to a fellow Roegadyn who claimed that mining for rare ores and jewels in the harsh Thanalan landscape was the way to get rich quick. Pfarberk, at the young age of seven, overheard his father retelling what the other Roegadyn said. His mother wasn't convinced - or rather, she wasn't until his father filled her mind with images of all that he would buy her with his new wealth. He also promised that they would move back once he saved up enough money to retire. The family hired a caravan, loaded it with their belongings, and made the journey to Ul’dah.
His father joined a mining company that specialized in deep-cave spelunking upon arriving in Ul’dah. A cave-in collapsed on his father’s team only three months into the start of his new job; it claimed the life of everybody in the tunnel. Only bones and rotten strips of flesh were found after clearing the rubble. It was suspected that Yarzon found the corpses and made a feast out of them. Without his father bringing home bread and gil, the young boy and his mother were threatened with homelessness. His mother tried everything she could think of to find a legitimate job, but nobody wanted to hire an older foreigner with a child to take care of and no skill set aside from raising a child and doing housework. Then she met an older man with a harem of Miqo'te and Hyurian girls. Said man offered her a job with him. She would be a "personal assistant" to him, and a "helper" or "dancer" for many others. Pfarberk, at first, thought it was odd that his mother came home with a different man--other times, multiple men—almost every night. He grew accustomed to it and wrote them off as friends of hers; he had no idea what was going on behind the closed doors his mother hid behind. The once-strict mother-and-wife full of pride with a love for nature simply did what it took to make it by for herself and her son. He felt extra hungry one night and walked into his mother’s room to ask if there was any chance he could have some of the leftovers from earlier in the night. That was when he discovered what his mother’s true job was. He tried fighting the men off of her, but he was only kicked away and threatened to be beaten if he didn’t leave. He tried fighting more, but his mother demanded that he leave. For the first time in his life, he knew how it felt to be powerless.
1547-1560: Youth and Immortal Flames
Their living situation continued until Pfarberk was seventeen He began to work for a logging company that would travel to the Black Shroud for wood, and then bring it back to Ul'dah. Recruiters for the Immortal Flame came across their caravan and looked for any young, fit peoples. They saw Pfarberk and were promising him a better life and pay as a member of the Flames within three minutes. His obsessive exercising ever since that night of powerlessness paid off. He accompanied the caravan back to Ul’dah and then quit his job in order to join the Immortal Flames. Life was looking up for Pfarberk, and he was able to rent a small room for his mother to live in without having to sell her body. Her "boss" didn't agree with her decision to quit and tried to forcibly bring her back into the business of whoring. Pfarberk tried to defend her, but he was no match for a group of armed men. The Flames wouldn’t help him either due to a deal between the boss and the Flames for protection. Thankfully, as fate would have it, her boss wasn't doing good enough business to continue paying off the Immortal Flames. A rival ended his mother's boss' life soon after, and his mother was free from being treated as less than trash.
Pfarberk was a loyal member of the Immortal Flames for thirteen years. With a sword and shield in hand, he rose through the ranks until he achieved the title of Captain. He scarcely fought in battles since he discovered his hatred for taking lives in his early career. Instead, he was in a position to train new recruits and upcoming officers. Despite his hatred for killing, he still loved to fight and grew dissatisfied with his job. He attended every round of arena games that he could in his free time. Finally, he believed that he heard his true calling. He resigned from the Immortal Flames with honor and salutes abound. Those who knew of him that worked on the frontlines had little respect for a captain that did his best to stay out from live combat, while those behind desks and that worked with him in training had an admiration for him.
1560-1572: Adulthood and Glory
1560 was the beginning of Pfarberk Sthalorhsyn’s career as a man of the arena. Despite not having fought in many serious fights, he sparred with his trainees and fellow officers on a daily basis; he was already more prepared and experienced than other entry gladiator. Then he lost his first fight, and the three following it. Everybody bet against him and nobody was interested when his name was included in a match. Then he figured out what he was doing wrong. His helmet obscured his vision, his shield was too large and heavy, and his sword—while it could easily cut through armor—was too heavy for the rapid slashing and parrying that the arena called for. Warfare called for charging an enemy and fighting face-to-face, while all manners of tricks and maneuvers were allowed in the arena. He purchased a new, smaller shield and lighter sword, and then he left for the arena once more. There was an obvious change in his fighting style. It took several more matches to fully grow accustomed to his new gear, but then he started to win. His first victory had the crowd roaring with – well, with disappointment and rage since they all bet against him.
Pfarberk rose to fame as a fierce competitor of the arena over the next two years. He was fast, brutal, and merciful. He never went easy on anybody no matter how inexperienced they may be, but he did make sure to never seriously injure or maim somebody. The crowd was always betting on him instead of against him. Several businesses were begging for the right to sponsor him, but he rejected every offer. Then a certain Miqo’te arrived with an offer. She represented a blacksmith that was willing to give Pfarberk every last bit of his gil, just for him to wear some armor forged by the blacksmith in the arena. He was not too interested in the deal at first, but then the Miqo’te was able to use her – feminine charms, in order to get her way. Since he rose to fame, he was the object of many girls’ eyes and thoughts. He had no problem getting any girl he wanted to, but there was something special about the one that proposed the deal to him. Pfarberk agreed to the deal the morning after, but only if the Miqo’te would promise to give him more chances than just a single night’s worth. She agreed.
Two years later and Pfarberk was still conquering next to every foe he faces. There were a few that managed to best him, but his followers just cheered him on all the mightier the next fight. The blacksmith that he made a deal with was steadily rising to become the most successful blacksmith in Ul’dah, and that Miqo’te that seduced him for a deal was now his wife. While one may think that having a wife would make a man less available, it only fueled the female (and some male) fans’ love for him even more. Pfarberk, his wife, and his elderly mother all lived in a home almost worthy of being called a mansion, purchased from the profits made from the arena and the payments from his sponsor. Pfarberk never believed that his life would be so perfect; there was nothing more that he wanted. His mother could relax all day without fear of men or being homeless, his wife was popular as a broker, and he was famous in the arena.
Another day, another tournament. Pfarberk stopped wearing a helmets—even the ones that didn’t obstruct his vision—despite his sponsor begging him to. His mother and wife also tried convincing him that he needed to wear some sort of head protection, but he refused. His logic was that his fans paid to see him, so he would make sure that they could actually see him instead of just a suit of armor. He waved and smiled every match; his fans adored him. His opponent for the day was a thaumaturge. Casters and ranged fighters were always easy for Pfarberk to fight. All he had to do was get close enough and then the match was over. The announcer said to begin, and Pfarberk charged his opponent. The thaumaturge shot fiery blasts at him to try and keep him away, but he could dodge or block each spell. The thaumaturge decided the tactic wasn’t working and began shooting at the ground between the two. Dust and rocks were kicked up and, while the blasts were not directly hitting Pfarberk, the stones flung up at him and the dust clouded his vision. Another spell from behind pounded against his armor and knocked him forward onto his knees.
He never lost to a thaumaturge before, nor was he planning to. He stood up and charged through the dust in the direction that the spell came from, but his opponent was no longer there. Another spell impacted his back and knocked him against the wall of the arena. His opponent was putting up a very good fight for a thaumaturge. He spun around and began to charge right as another spell blasted into the ground in front of him, but he didn’t relent in his charge. He pushed through the dust, dodged two more spells, and slammed his shield into the caster’s gut hard enough to knock him over and cough up blood. The crowd was silent. Healers rushed out, presumably to help the thaumaturge. No, they went for Pfarberk. The pain set in.
One of the thaumaturge’s final spells that hit the ground sent a jagged rock into his eye. The extraction of the rock revealed that nothing which looked like an eye remained in the socket; healers were not able to restore it. He never realized how important having a full field of vision was. The next several fights were lost, he won one, and then he continued to lose. He tried his hardest to fight with only one eye, but his opponents quickly learned to take advantage of his blind side. Pfarberk’s career as a famous gladiator was over, and his reputation died with it. His sponsor easily replaced him. The sponsor that once begged for a competitor to sponsor now had competitors begging to be sponsored. The mansion was sold so that he would be able to support his family for longer while in a smaller home. Dalamud fell two years later.
1572-1577: Midlife and Decline
Pfarberk was working as a caravanner after he lost his eye and moved his family into a smaller home. His wife wanted a child and his mother wanted grandchildren, but he did not want to have kids of his own until he had a stable job to support them. Not to mention that he wanted a job which did not require him to constantly be travelling away from home. He knew that the roads were more dangerous than ever with the heightened threat of beast tribes and Garleans, but he had to bring in an income. Bahamut went on its short-lived rampage while he was travelling with a caravan around La Noscea. A sinking feeling formed within his gut as he saw fiery destruction delivered unto Limsa Lominsa and the surrounding areas from afar. He just knew that Ul’dah likely suffered the same assault. All members of the caravan went their separate ways to try and discover the fates of their friends and families. Pfarberk travelled to Ul’dah via aetheryte as soon as he was able to. His home was replaced by a collapsed mess of brick and wood. He dug through the rubble and convinced his neighbors to aid his efforts. It took two hours of rummaging through the rubble to find the first charred corpse, and then the second corpse was found soon after.
The once-proud gladiator and loving husband turned to the taverns just like many others after the massive event of destruction of death. All the money he had been saving was spent on a room in the tavern and enough alcohol to keep him drunk throughout the day, every day. He hadn’t bothered to clean himself for two weeks; even if he was still famous nobody would have recognized him. Then he began spending his money on courtesans. There was a surge of them after Dalamud fell, probably because they were in positions much like his own mother once was. He remembered how much he loved to have sex with his numerous fangirls before he met his now-dead wife, so he tried to regain that pleasure to take away the pain. He spent each night with a new girl for roughly two months, but he only felt worse by the end of it. One day he came to the realization that having sex with every possible woman he could find, right after his wife died, was horribly sick. The thought was so sickening that he felt physically ill for several days. His wife, his mother, and his dream of living the rest of his days happily with his family was gone.
He needed to busy himself. He spent the next three years working construction to help rebuild Ul’dah. It did not pay much, nor was there much chance for rest, but it kept him busy. He helped to rebuild a goldsmith’s shop during that time. A sort of friendship was formed between the goldsmith and the man who rebuilt their shop. The goldsmith ended up paying Pfarberk for the troubles by crafting him a custom glass eye. The white, glass eye still sits in his right eye socket today. The vision in his left eye worsened over his short career of construction, and he returned to the same goldsmith for a pair of glasses. The goldsmith also offered to repair the charred ring that sat on his left ring finger, but he refused. The ring of his previous wife would remain, as it was, on that finger until he died. That was the plan.
With nothing to settle down for, Pfarberk has been working as a caravanner once again. He travels with caravans and protects them from any potential animals, monsters, or bandits. He still refuses to kill anybody or anything, though. The grief of losing his loved ones has, for the most part, left him. He drinks less heavily than he did before, but he is still drunk every night that he is not hired. The friendship with the goldsmith in Ul’dah is still alive, and he visits them whenever he’s in the city-state. His life is simply about surviving now. He does not want to kill himself, but he doesn’t have any reasons to continuing living. Surviving, drinking, and travelling is all that his life consists of now.
Pfarberk stands at 7 fulms and 2 ½ ilms, and he weighs roughly three-hundred and ten ponzs. His most apparent features are his: head full of midnight blue hair, which has some streaks and tips of grey appearing due to age; his left eye is close to teal in coloring while his right, artificial eye is white with a black pupil; he has black tattoos that start underneath and to the side of his eyes, and then follow underneath his eyes and up the bridge of his nose before curling out; a pair of dark-rimmed glasses (even though he technically just needs them for his left eye); a scar which extends from his left cheek up to his forehead; and a full beard that matches the colors of his hair. As for the rest of his body, there are many scars, burns, and permanent bruises that can be found scattered across his skin.
Before everything he knew was destroyed, he loved to lounge around in comfy clothes and walk the streets proudly in the armor that he once won thousands of fights with. Now, he wears simple armor that will protect him from most threats and some basic clothes underneath it. His wardrobe does not have much variation.
Pfarberk has undergone several personality changes throughout his life. As a child, he was optimistic and full of life. As a teenager, he was a powerless boy that just wanted to become rich and powerful. He wanted to protect the weak, including his mother, and build a reputation for himself as a young adult. Then he was a glory-and-fame-addicted adult that had sex every night with his fangirls. Then came marriage, loss, and despair. He is only a remnant of the man he once was. Every night spent near a tavern is spent wasting his gil on enough alcohol to become drunk, he never goes out to have any sort of “fun,” and he refuses to show himself around arenas. One won’t even find a smile on his lips unless he’s already had a few drinks.
After a few drinks is when the only personality that he has reveals itself. He is the complete opposite of a violent drunk; he loves to talk, he listens, he laughs obnoxiously loud, and is completely honest. Anybody that gets him another drink while he’s already drunk will be his best friend until he sobers up. The only real downside to his drinking, aside from health problems, is that he is hardly understandable. He either slurs his words or forgets them entirely. However, whether he be sober or drunk, it would be incredibly hard to get him to act sexual. Even if he does get flirty, the chances of him willingly having sex with somebody is all but null. The same goes for romance: it would take a long time for him to ever get close enough to somebody that he could feel romantically interested in them. He doesn't know if it’s possible for him to ever feel arousal or love again.
When he’s not drunk, he simply does his job and gets to the point of things. He is either making gil, or he is getting drunk; there is nothing else for the drunken widower. Rarely, he will visit the mentioned goldsmith friend of his in Ul’dah where they just catch up and talk for a couple of hours. Otherwise, he has no friends, nor does he care to make any. He is always keeping an eye and ears open for work, so if one happens to require a temporary guard then they may find Pfarberk to be willing.
- ■ Fighting
- ■ Drinking alcoholic beverages
- ■ Working
- ■ Women that remind him of his mother (AKA courtesans/prostitutes)
- ■ Rain
- ■ Drinking many alcoholic beverages
- ■ Men who are forceful with ladies
- ■ Prudes
- ■ Corruption (such as corrupted Immortal Flames)
- ■ Anybody who disrespects their mother or another's
- ■ Chocolate and sweets
- ■ Caves
- ■ Fighting
- ■ Woodcutting
- ■ Arena fighting
- ■ Drinking
- ■ Judging the character of a person
- ■ Construction
- ■ Favorite food: Anything meaty and bloody
- ■ Favorite drink: Anything that can make him non-sober
- ■ Favorite weather: Thunderstorms
- ■ Favorite place: Eastern Thanalan
- ■ Favorite season: Summer
- ■ Favorite activity: Drinking
♥ Romantically Involved ♥ Affectionate ♥ Sexually Interested ● Positive Standing ● Neutral Standing ● Negative Standing
- None, yet.
- None, yet.
- ■ "Hey, see 'im? I don't think 'av ever seen 'im sober." - Quicksand Patron
- ■ "He's kind of sad lookin', don't ya' think?" - Miqo'te Courtesan
- ■ "He must be crazy. I'm telling you, I've seen him turn down some beautiful lasses before." - Jealous Hyur Male
- ■ "I heard that he got drunk one night and carved his eye out with a bottle! That's why he has a fake eye!" - Excited Gossiper
- ■ "He's a pretty big guy, and look at that scar on his face and missing eye. I bet you he's involved in some shady business around here." - Lalafell Merchant
- ■ "Hey, doesn't he kinda look like - ah, no, never mind." - Random Ala Mhigan Refugee
- ■ "Look! I think that's Pfarberk! You don't remember who he is!? He's the man that could take on several bears at once in the arena without killing them!" - Ex-fangirl
- ■ "Isn't that the old captain that we trained under?" - Immortal Flames Sergeant
- ■ "Yeah, that's Pfarberk. I heard he lost his whole family during the Cataclysm. I feel bad for the guy. I heard he won't even step a foot near the arena anymore." - Veteran Arena Competitor
Player Rumours (Feel free to add!)