1507's D&D Campaign
Tariq stands 5’9 with olive skin and raven hair. His muscles bear a whipcord-like quality, providing a strength which belies a slender build. A thin mustache graces his upper lip and a triangular patch of hair resides beneath the lower. Both are well-oiled and impeccably groomed.
Jewel-studded rings adorn Tariq’s every finger and a loop of gold dangles from the lobe of one ear. Swathes of luxuriant silk enwrap his slight frame in colors ranging from purest white to deepest red and richest gold. He wears a gold and white turban, its wraps secured by a large ruby-encrusted broach in the shape of a scorpion.
At a word Tariq’s fine raiments are replaced by an impressive suit of plate armor fashioned in the form of a demon. Black and crimson and spiked all over, the armor is a terror to behold. The helmet is shaped like a great toothy maw with flared nostrils and curving horns. The only visible part of Tariq is his face seen through the helmet’s mouth and shielded behind great fangs of steel. With his maul poised to strike it is hard to determine which is more horrifying: the hellish armor or Tariq’s rage-contorted visage.
Tariq Al-Kharim, he who pounds at the door, harbinger of the Crimson Demon, Devil of the burning sands, Scorpion’s Sting, scourge of the rolling dunes—the list of titles continues. How many of these were earned and how many Tariq thought up during a lonely night by the fire is hard to say. What is obvious, however, is that Tariq is a man who once met is rarely forgotten.
Tariq speaks sparingly of his past. From what can be gathered he is the beloved servant of a very well-to-do K’hamidin prince. Outside his homeland little else is known of the man; though his arrival in Naliana coincided with a disturbing trend in the dark alleys and shady watering holes frequented by those of ill repute. The corpses of criminals – unblemished save for tiny puncture wounds and faces contorted in unimaginable agony – have begun turning up with alarming frequency. Cold-hearted cutthroats and fearless burglars wander the streets raving madly about scorpions, demons and “merciful” beatings.
In response to all accusations Tariq merely shrugs his slender shoulders and says, “My friend, where Tariq Al-Kharim walks so too does the Crimson Demon.”