Name: Keargoth

Bloodline: Ascended.

Homeland: Unknown

Occupation: Warlord of the mercenairy clan Keargoth.

Family: His ture family is unknown, but he considers The Clan his family.

Designation: Warlord

Magic Talents:
Primary: Rune

Mundane Talents
Primary: Tactics
Secondary: Politics
Minor: Negotiations

Weapon Skills
Primary:........ The sword dance
Secondary:..... Hand to Hand
Minor:............ Daggers

Personal
Age:................ Over a hundred
City of Origin: Unknown

Faith: Worships all the Gods.

Appearance
Ht:............ 6’0”
Wt:............ 155 lb
Skin Coloration: Pale white
Hair:.......... Short spiked, and sky blue
Eyes:.......... They are sky blue with veins of violet

Profile:
********

The world was spinning, nothing made sense, every thing hurt, and all he could hear was someone crying out for Keargoth. He tried to open his eyes but they would not respond at first. He felt some one laying on him screaming Keargoth over and over. He assumed they were talking to him but he could do nothing but lay there eyes closed barley breathing. He feared they would leave him for dead.

“THEY ARE COMING BACK” came a voice from far away. “We need to leave now.” This voice was much closer. “If we don’t were dead too.” That was the last thing he heard before falling back into the void.

Keargoth awoke. He was not sure how long it had been. He struggled to open his eyes once more and managed to crack them. He couldn’t make out much, his eyes for blurry and burning from what smelt like smoke. Keargoth closed his eyes again letting the void take him again.

The world stopped spinning and Keargoth struggled to brake threw the blackness, and come back to the world of the living for he thought that he must be dieing. He still smelt the smoke, but a heat Keargoth did not even notice he felt was gone. He opened his eyes all the way this time and even managed to sit up.

The sight struck horror in to Keargoth’s heart. He didn’t know where he was but no one could walk away from this with out feeling great sadness. Bodies lay everywhere, men women and children. Most of the women where bare above the waist, with torn skirts below, and Keargoth didn’t have to use his imagination to figure out why.

He looked away from the site to see the burnt husk of what once had been a small town. Nothing moved except for the crows. The only colors to be seen where red and black, as if all other color had left with the screams of pain from the dieing villagers. Keargoth could not take it any more the sent of burning flesh the caws of the crow and the little girl left hanging over a fence with her throat cut and blood soaked skirt.

Keargoth feel back into the void hopping to never wake again, whishing nothing more than for death to take him. His wish never came true. He was awoken by the sound of an approaching wagon. He opened his eyes but could not mange to sit up again.

The creek of the turning wheels kept playing threw his head. With a great effort Keargoth sat up feeling explosions of pain threw out his body. The wagon came to a stop a few yards away from him. A tall slender female jumped off the wagon and rushed over to him.

“Are you alright?” She blushed at the absurdity of the question. Then there was the void again.

* * *
Keargoth was in the void, its blackness encompassed him, and it was crushing. He knew nothing but the crushing weight. Time had no meaning here in the void. Sound and light could not break through. There was nothing in the void but him. He struggled endlessly to break through, but it was to no avail. Fear replaced determination. Anger gave out to despair.

Am I dead? No I can’t be dead, there is nothing, but me. I must be alive. I must fight this. Keargoth focused all his will into a single thought. WAKE! The void shattered. Keargoth awoke with a start; the aura here was completely different. It was peaceful and alive. Looking around he saw nothing but ancient trees.

“Where am I?” No reply. Not like I really expected one. A twig snapped, followed by the sound of footsteps.

“I healed all is wounds, but he will not wake,” Came a female voice from the direction of the footsteps.

“Child he may not wish to wake after living through the horrors you’ve described,” said an older male.

“He must wake. We need to know if the faith war has reached us.”

“We must be patient even if he dose wake there is a chance his memories have left him.”
***
More to come.

Nice bio. Some spelling errors and it is clear you have more to add but I like it.

Pretty good, but I have a few suggestions.

First of all, I would run the bio through a spell checker, and read it over a couple of times.

"Show me, don't tell me," as the writing expression says. Put a bit more description into it. As it is, it feels a bit like 'he did this, then he did that, then that.'

Also, the sentence structure is very... choppy. I would edit it a bit to make the story flow a bit better, and reduce repetitive phrasing.

Can we have a quick paragraph on your character's personality and motivations? I'd like to know what makes him tick.

Finally, 'Lame' is a very modern slang word. I would replace it with something more suitable for a time of slaves, mercenaries, and magic...

Warlord Keargoth