The Heroes of Hirot
Floyd the Barber--DECEASED
The Former Crazy Barber with an axe, a straight razor, a penchant for hair, on a quest to find Andy
There is no mistaking the crazed look in the eyes of this madman. Standing in his chain mail with his fine battle axe, “Occum’s Razor”, resting on one shoulder and his straight razor in the other hand, dripping blood from the opponent who had just surrendered and was confused by the madman’s declaration, “You’re not Andy” right before Floyd slit his throat. With an ever growing cord made from human hair wrapped around his waist, this butcher quietly whistles as he cuts off the hair from his latest victim (or rather, opponent) to add to his unsettling collection. Although he has a shortsword strapped to his hilt and a bow attached to his pack, his true passion lies in charging into battle wielding Occum’s Razor in his two hands and screaming “Where is Andy?”
Fine Battle axe “Occum’s Razor”
Short rope/belt/cord made out of human hair
Leather Blacksmith’s Apron
Not particularly note worthy in any physical respect, Floyd, began adventuring when some of the other villagers went off to explore some mysterious ruins. There, while in the darkened corridors that claimed the life of his dwarven friend, Grimm, Floyd found not just a suit of armor and his fine battle axe, he also found The Voice. Night after night upon his return to his village, Floyd lay awake listening to the voice beseeching him to go out and find “Andy”. Not knowing who or what “Andy” is, Floyd tried to ignore The Voice, but it only grew stronger and more insistent. Soon it started to speak to him during the day. As he worked his apprenticeship as a barber, the voice would plead with him, beg him, command him, extort him to go out and find Andy. He decided that there was nothing left for him to do other than obey and so he donned his armor and picked up his axe to set off on his search. Unbeknownst to him, several of the surviving adventurers were tired of their small village and were setting off for points unknown as well. Even that poor beggar boy, Benny, and his simple friend were going. Realizing the safety in numbers, Floyd joined their group as if he was planning it all along.
Since he started his journey, The Voice had quieted down but was always there. Always reminding him of his quest, but never giving him any direction or information. Some nights, as the others lay sleeping, and he sat standing watch, he would stare into the camp fire and see shapes moving within. He wondered if they could see him as well. During those unsettling times, The Voice would whisper that his companions were not Andy. The thought of bathing his straight razor in their blood and adding their hair to his cord was so appealing, but something stayed his hand. Was it friendship? Loyalty? A higher power, such as the Priestess would lecture him about? He didn’t know, but it was enough to put away his blade and let them sleep undisturbed.
The only true release for Floyd was when he was in battle or he was collecting for his cord. He liked tying the knots and the feel of it when he was stressed. He imagined making a long rope of it and climbing up to where Andy lived. He could be happy then. At peace. Knowing he had found Andy…
Unfortunately, while attempting to rid the area around Hirot of the foul Chaos Beastmen, Floyd fell into some sort of magical well that consumed him. He died whistling and searching for Andy.