Hrisskar the Scorned
Hrisskar is a Nord warrior, formerly a member of the Companions inner Circle, an order of warriors famed in Skyrim for their valor and honour. He was banished from the order for his unrestrained fury and ferocity. He is cursed with werewolf lycanthropy, which through his willing experimentation with the hagraven coven the Glenmoril Witches, has grown largely beyond his own control, though has increased his frame and power. He seeks a Daedric artefact, the Ring of Hircine which he hopes will allow him to bring his transformations back under control.
Quotes:
"Unless you're bringing me meat or mead. Then stay out of my way. Unless you'd rather be my next meal instead."
"These marauders are no true warriors. They are soft... tender. Meat for me to rip and tear! Ugh. What? Nevermind."
"There's the smell of death about you. The old dust of a crypt. Brave of you to delve into Skyrim's depths. Brave but stupid."
"I hoped to find true warriors among these pirates. Real fighters not useless rabble. So far. I am disappointed."
"Useless! Nothing here but scavengers. Walking bags of diseased meat. Not even worthy of a hunt."
"The crunch of bone. The ripping of meat. The smell of warm blood. I need to hunt. Soon."
"Unless you're bringing me meat or mead. Then stay out of my way. Unless you'd rather be my next meal instead."
"These marauders are no true warriors. They are soft... tender. Meat for me to rip and tear! Ugh. What? Nevermind."
"There's the smell of death about you. The old dust of a crypt. Brave of you to delve into Skyrim's depths. Brave but stupid."
"I hoped to find true warriors among these pirates. Real fighters not useless rabble. So far. I am disappointed."
"Useless! Nothing here but scavengers. Walking bags of diseased meat. Not even worthy of a hunt."
"The crunch of bone. The ripping of meat. The smell of warm blood. I need to hunt. Soon."
He wears fur's clothes and boots, and is equipped with an iron greatsword and 6 javelins. He carries a selection of common loot and gold.
Children

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