Company Fist Sergeant Barvok Harrow

[Chasted]

Description
Eyes: Darkend Irises with a strange tinge extending out from them
Hair: Black, tied back in a scholarly way
Height: Average
Weight: average
Skin: Caucasian
Age: Mid 20's
TLDR Ramblings ahead (Feel free to PM grammar corrections, kittens or other constructive criticism on any posts below)
Barvok was born and raised in a small woodcutting village a moderate distance off from Baulder's Gate. A small village with nothing of interest happening in it; perfect for the retiring adventurer wishing to get away from it all... Well, except for that near-by friendly druid enclave who gave the few children born in the village some level of an education.
His parents were a part of a group; in it his father was the swordsman and the mother practised the arcane arts. Somewhere between his 6th and 7th birthday Barvok's mother left the home and village. When Barvok grew older and asked why his mother left all his father said "She went to do wizardly things son. Wizards gotta do their wizardly things."
From his 10th birthday Barvok was sent to get an education (All grown up!) from the druid enclave. They taught the reading and writing in both Common and Elven (Mostly Elven), how to best treat a tree when your cutting it down, how to pick the 'correct' tree's as to best not harm the forest, how to care for animals, how to hug a tree correctly. Barvok's father covered taught a few things since he wasn't doing anything important and they mostly covered life skills such as judging the price of an item and the art of combat. If he was ever asked he would have answered with "I don't want these kids learning all that hippy loving crap and then face the real world."
This continued for about eight years, in the final year he left the town with a grand sum of cash and went to go adventuring. With his history in fighting and talent in it Barvok was recruited into the Flaming Fist. From there, he rose in the ranks to Company Fist Sergeant.
It wasn't until an encounter with one of the many, many, many villains of Baulder's Gate before he became a research and became a spellcaster (Until then it was a passing interest into what interest). That encounter stole him of the memories of what made him a fighter. How it worked, magic. In an attempt to gain his talent back, however, he delved into the arcane art in an attempt to regain his combative potential (While training himself, of course).
During Barvok's attempts at regaining his talent he was assigned to an expedition to Chult. What fun he had there.

Ps, don't you wish you could just cast sleep on your child? God, all those easy nights. "Just go to sleep dam- Oh wait" Casts Sleep "Muuuuch better".

[Chasted]

//This is actually a short story I promised someone some time ago. Sorry for taking so long to fulfil it Sadly, nothing will happen but I hope you don't mind

Chult, it's apparently the dream for all Fist to be sent there on an expedition. Nice lush jungle forests, spiders the size of your already too big pet dog lurking waiting in your boots and the brilliant humid weather that mixes, oh so well, with extreme heat. Well, not for Barvok. As much as he dislikes saying it; he hates the heat, in fact, his most preferred days were those cold, crisp, winter mornings that he remembers when he was a teen. Everything was quiet, calm; tranquil even. It was on those mornings he felt he could train best, his father wasn't barking down his back about the "best way to wield a greatsword" while he trained.

But that is in the past, now he serves the Fist and now he has been transferred to Chult... With their wonderful tropical weather; each morning while preparing for the day ahead he grumbled, silently. There was nothing he could do, nothing worth doing until the end of his assignment. Plus, he rather enjoyed the title the non-officers gave him; "Ice King" he managed to hear called out when they tried to describe him behind his back; Barvok didn't mind the title, in fact for some reason it helped keep him cool.

One the long three month's he was sent to Chult, nothing of importance happened. In fact, if asked he would liken it to only being just better than Bridge duty; and that was because of the spiders... Or that his pet Snow Panther enjoyed the place.