Gwharr

Real Name:Gwharr, occasionally goes by Gawain.

Superhero alias: "Captain Caveman" alt. "The Primordial"
Title:"Caveguy" "The brute" and "That big bloody critter that just ate my dog!"
Alignment: chaotic neutral (Renegade)
Age:22.000 years old
Gender:male
Race:the exact species is unknown, although it can be said with some certainty that he is a hominid
Hair:Red
Eyes:dark blue
Height:Gwharr reaches the sky at 7'8 when standing fully stretched, but his hunched, stooping posture usually makes him end up at a still respectable 7 feet
Weight:1110 pounds

Costume Description/Image:Gwharr has no particurlar costume per se, but he has an unhealthy fascination for coats for some reason. Especially fur-coats, in vibrant colours if avalible. Other than that he simply wear what fits, preffering durability and comfort before style. He is also rather fond of hats.

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An example of Gwharr trying to go "under cover"


Personality: Due to his brutish looks and violent nature people tend to be surprised at how emotional Gwharr is. he has little self-controll and has a tendency to get carried away with whatever emotions he feels at the moment. for example If he's happy he'll be grinning like an idiot, clap his hands or take a great leap out of sheer joy, if he is angry, property-damage, chestbeating and grunting will commence. Despite being a violent, crude and selfish individual Gwharr is not truly evil. He rarely acts out of unprovoked malice and is a big softie when it comes to children and is very loyal and helpful to those he consider to be his friends or members of his "Pack". He is a very tactile person and likes physical contacts such as handshakes and hugs to strengthen the bonds of friendship with those around him. This coupled with his emotional nature makes the caveman an excellent provider of sympathy or an occasional shoulder to cry on

Gwharr spent most of his life in a time when survival was always the first and foremost objective and has quite a bit of trouble adapting to the laws and customs of our modern world. The hardest thing to adapt too is the sheer number of people. The time Gwharr was thriving in you rarely met more than about twenty or twentyfive of them at one time, these days you can barely go grab a burger without meeting several times that amount. He also has some problems with the conditions of the current world. Nowadays you don't have to hunt to get food anymore, but the worst thing is probably that the romantic, yet manly art of chest-beating and feats of strength no longer attracts females like they used to do back in the bad old days.

These changes has left our not-all-that-bright hero feeling a bit lost, nostalgic and useless. All the talents and skills he were so proud of are useless in the current climate. And even though he has tried time and time again, he cannot really grasp what is going on in the modern world around him. He can understand simple trade, yet he finds the concept of a supermarket weird and uncomfortable. He can respect a strong leader of a successfull pack, yet he cannot fathom how much power a president really has. In a way he is limited to understanding the physical world around him, whilst things such as politics, the internet, banks and international trade are beyond him. Another problems he has are laws. Being superstrong and comming from a "might makes right"-style society Gwharr has a tendency to commit social faux-pas such as pummeling people that he percieves as challenging his leadership, laying claim to fast-food joints by chasing out the current owners, Beating his chest and howling really loudly to impress women that has taken his fancy as well as eating any particurlarly tasty-looking dogs he comes across without consulting the owners beforehand.


History:Gwharrs struggle for survival started even before he was even born. His mother was a young neanderthal woman living back in the time when humans had yet to discover the concept of measurable time. She was a lonely outcast, sick with major radiation-poisoning. How she got it or why is a mystery. However, the radioactivity that would eventually lead to her death blessed her unborn child with unnatural vitality, unfathomable strength and nigh-immortality. Gwharr was born prematurely, and since his mother was on the brink of death his first few days looked grim indeed. Luckily as his mother was wandering aimlessly she happened upon a nomadic group of people, neanderthals like her. They took pity on the young mother and her child and allowed them to stay, nursing the woman back to a semblance of health, although she would remain weak and frail for the rest of her days.

The boy who was already known as "Gwharr" Grew up quickly, unnaturally quickly some would say, and he did not stop growing either. At the age of ten his size was on par with the largest of the men in the group, and by that time his mother got worse. The young boy tried his best to keep his mother alive, hunting for her and binding the sores and pustules that started to appear all over her body. He became reclusive and shy, spending all his time with his mother, somehow knowing that she did not have much time left before she would die. He still remember how he felt those last days with his mother, even if cannot remember exactly what she looks like anymore. During the course of the next few years she got progressively weaker, eventaully becomming completely paralyzed wich left our hero no choice but to carry her around in a sort of improvised stone-age-style snuggly. Luckily food was no trouble, since Ghwarrs powers had evolved to the point where he could beat a mammoth to death with his fists, providing enough food for both himself, his mother and anyone else who needed it. When she finally passed away Gwharr had reached his full size at age 18. He stood seven and a half feet tall and weighed slightly below a thousand pounds, a veritable giant amongst his people. However Gwharr then realized that he was now alone. These where his mothers people, they lookedl ike her, but he was different. He was something else and he was alone.However, even though these thoughs where nagging in the back of his head he had no trouble using his natural advantage when it came to size and strength it did not take long for our hero to take over the leadership of the clan. and every day he progressively grew happier, recovering from the grief his mothers death had given him.

Gwharr soon felt good enough to enjoy the priviliges of his position. He had it all. Women, admiration as well as the first cut of any meat from the hunt. It did not take long for our hero to sire offspring, but at their birth he was dissapointed. Surely, his children looked similar to him, but they lacked his size, strength and build. It was then he learned he was one of a kind. The life of the tribe continued and even though Gwharr was sad that his children were not like him, he loved them nonetheless and did his best to raise them. They grew and soon reached adulthood, some wandered off, whilst others elected to stay with the tribe. However, as time went by Gwharr was horrified to see his children grow old and die, whilst he hadn't aged a day since his mother died. When his children started dying he was devastated and refused to touch a woman again for over a century. The sorrowfilled giant stayed with his tribe to watch over his aging children, taking as good care of them as he could untill they had all died. He then left the tribe to be on his own for a while. He wandered the world, venturing all the way from europe into asia, hoping to find somewhere he belonged. However, the people that dwelled in Asia were even more different from him than his old tribe had been. They were taller than but were thinner and lighter and their tribes were far more plentiful. He slowly made his way east, occasionally staying with another tribe for a year or two out of sheer loneliness before he went on. Eventually he reached the sea, and decided to follow the shoreline, continuing his slow trek around the world, staying with one tribe after another, trying to find where he aught to be. He continued this lifestyle for a centuries before as if by chance, he stumbled back into the same lands where he had been born and raised. However, his tribe was not here anymore, but a group of the strange, thin people he had met far away were. Even he understood that they had either killed or driven them away. Mad with grief our hero attacked the newcommers, slaying anyone who resisted him, chasing the others away.

He soon found another tribe of his mothers people and joined them permanently, figuring that this was as close as he was going to get to his own kind, and as the years rolled by he grew content with life as it was. However, soon enough they started to die off. Disease ran rampant, their hunting-grounds where depleting due to their new neighbors. Some of the healthier individuals decided to run away, hoping to escape the death of their tribe. Gwharr stayed to the end, being the only thing that kept their cro-mangon neighbors from quickening the death of his tribe, even though he know that he was doing nothing but postponing the inevitable. he stayed with his adopted tribe untill the last of them had died and then once more left, resuming the wandering ways of his earlier years, but this time he decided to try the sea. Thanks to his physical power and endurance he had no problem managing the tedious swim north, where he happened onto a large rocky island where he decided he would make his home from now on. Our hero dwelled there in solitude for some time before ending up in the middle of a volcano-eruption, being horribly burned and buried beneath tons upon tons of molten rock.

Thanks to his recouperative abilities and physical imperviousness, he did not actually burn into ash as most people would have, however, there was nothing his abilities could do against suffocation. but due to his regenerative abilities he fell in a sort of regenerative coma or hibernation rather than plain old dying. He was alive, his cells waiting for a chance to absorb enough energy to repair and revive his body. however, the lack of air was the main reason for this unconsciousness It took thousands upon thousands of years untill such an occasion presented itself. The oppurtunity presented itself in the form of a geological expedition, finding what they believed to be a mummified corpse in what were now known as Iceland. they dug the inanimate form of Gwharr up, but as soon as he was exposed to the heat of the air and rays of the sun, his recouperation started. The shriveled up husk-like body instantly swelled up to its former proportions, came to life and simply wandered off. The scientists called on the military, but bullets where of no used against the superpowered caveman, who simply chased them off. They returned with tanks, but thanks to his impervious body and regeneration this proved to be an equally useless gesture. Even though they where unsuccessfull in killing the caveman, they managed to drive him off the island, into the ocean where he was subdued by a band of government-sponsored superheroes, but not before he had time to devour two of them.

Gwharr was shocked. Never before had he encountered a creature with enough power to even pose a minor threat to him, and these "things" had down-right defeated him. He was placed in a secret government facility specially designed to hold a creature of his power. There were doctors there to find out why he was still alive after so long and how he had become so powerfull. Gwharr was not entirly displeased with the situation. The facility might have been spartan, but the food he was given was more than enough to keep him satisfied, but most of all he liked the fact that the magical people that beat seven shades of pain out of him were not there. The doctors were nice to him and soon enough he managed to understand their strange new language and took great pleasure in learning what he could about this new, strange world from them. after a few years our hero had gotten fed up with the place and made a break for freedom. Luckily his good behaviour so far had lulled his captors into a sense of false security, believing Gwharr to be docile. His escape was successfull, partly because of this, and partly because of the fact that they had underestimated his physical strength. Armoured bunker-walls could not stop him, and the sleeping-gas and electrified floors were not enough to prevent our hero from escaping.

Once more he traversed the sea by hand and foot, our hero being determined to get as far away as the island as possible managed to swim all the way to the glorious continent of North America where he managed to carve out a meager existance on the fringes of society. It was a very different world from the one he had been living in back in the good old days. There were machines, tall stone buildings and very different conditions to live under. He immediately decided to do his best to keep a fit in as well as he could to avoid more contact with supers looking for a scrap. Unfortunately our hero has had little success thus far.

Powers:
Regeneration: (ABI:8) Gwharr is a regenerator of the highest order and can pretty much reconstitute his entire body from the brink of death within a minute. he can grow new limbs and organs to replace lost ones. He absorbs the "raw material" for his regeneration straight from his surroundings in the form of energy. Any ambient energy will do, sunlight, heat, radiation. When the energy is absorbed it is converted to physical mass. This process is quite complex but works in line with einsteins famous "E=MC2"-formula. This regeneration makes Gwhwarr very hard to actually kill off. If he is exposed to a normally fatal condition, such as suffocation or internal injuries, he simply falls into a coma untill his regeneration has time to deal with the problems. The best way to truly kill him would be by reducing him to ash or chopping him up into very small bits.

Gwharr is all but entierly invulnerable to physical harm. His bones are all nigh-invulnerable and his skin and flesh is harder than any known substance on earth, yet has rubber-like elasticity, making it impossible to lacerate without some seriously overpowered firepower. This also applies to his eyes, internal organs and to a lesser degree even his hair. He is also all but unnafected by extreme temperatures and completely immune to diseases and toxins.

Finally Gwharr possesses superstrength wich lies in the neighborhood of 225 tons, making him amongst the strongest beings on earth.

Skills

Brachiator: Due to his long arms, powerfull grip and strength Ghwarr is an adept climber and would even give the most agile ape a run for his money. Of course his size and weight limits the amount of trees he can climb, but as we all know, the urban jungle is made from sturdier stuff than mere wood. . .

Hunter: Gwharr is a very skilled hunter and despite his size he is very quiet and exceptionally stealthy, preffering to sneak up on his prey rather than give it a chase

Survival: Gwharr has spent more than a lifetime in every concievable type of terrain and knows them all by heart.

Power Grid:

Grid Total:36
Intelligence:2
Occult:
Strength:10
Speed:2
Durability:10
Ability:8
Fighting Skills:4
Magic:
Spells:
Potency:
Flight:
Wealth:1 (is free)

Power Grid colours: Black and teal

Character Image/Description:
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Gwharr is heavily built and inhumanly stout. He has an oversized upper body and a pair of inhumanly broad shoulders. His massive arms are far thicker than the torso of an average man and extremely heavily muscled, they look extremely oversized compared to the rest of his body and are long enough for his Trashcan-lid-sized hands to almost reach the ground when he is standing up straight. Beneath his massive chest sprawls a less massive, but still impressive pot-belly, wich has been carefully cultivated through the eons. His legs are stocky and strongly built, but ultimately look very undersized compared to the rest of his body. Another noticable feature is that his feet are more akin to a second pair of hands rather than regular human feet. Whilst this feature makes our hero a tad slower than he might be otherwise, his climbing-skills are second to none. As expected for a creature that looks to be somewhere between man and ape on the evolutionary ladder, our Primitive, Primordial Primate is partially covered in coarse, red hair, almost more akin to proper fur rather than the comparatively scarce curly bodyhair common in humans


Gwharrs face is similar to that of a human, in the same way a bulldogs face is similar to a greyhound. They have all the same bits for the same purpose but they are arranged differently. For example, Gwharrs jawbone is much larger and more powerfull than that of a human, giving him a a wide mouth, a massive chin and quite an underbite. His nose is rather small and flat, located far higher above the mouth than it would have on a humans face. His blue eyes are small and beady, sitting deep within their socket in the perpetual shadow of the massive brow above it.Just as expected his forehead is lower and more sloping than those of his homo sapien cousins. Gwharr's massive mane of thick reddish hair is long and tangled, just like the massive beard that grows from his chin. Unlike humans, the type of hair that grows on gwharrs head is indistinguishable from the one that makes up his beard, making them look somewhat akin to a lions mane.

Whilst capable of walking upright like a common man in, Gwharr is more comfortable knucklewalking like a gorilla, his long, massive arms providing more speed than his short little legs could ever hope to generate on their own. All in all Gwharr tends to use his arms quite a bit when moving a bit, sometimes for balance and sometimes grabbing nearby terrain-features to "pull" himself forward. Despite his brutish appearance and massive build Gwharr is moves in a surprisingly agile and gracefull manner



Roleplay Sample: The sun was rising over the hills, its golden light bathing the forest in a beautiful shade of gold. Gwharr could not help but to be somewhat absorbed by the experience. No matter how many sunrises he had seen throughout his long life he had never lost his fascination with them. He put raised a massive hand to deflect the worst of the sunlight. The dawn was his favourite time of the day. however, his little morning-ritual was interrupted by a loud barking and rustling in the bushes. A dog, and a big one at that. Gwharr smiled, revealing a set of somewhat uneven, yet pearly white teeth. He liked dogs, they made good food and food made him happy. The gargantuan giggled as he thought about his future meal, and leapt from the rock upon wich he was sitting and grabbed an overhanging branch with a massive hand. and clung to the side of the massive fir, waiting for the dog to arrive. He knew the stupid creature had his scent, and he knew it would come. They always did. and when it did he would end it.

The dog soon came out of the bushes, somehow managing to pant and bark simultaneously. It was one of the more wolflike dogs that seemed to be used for hunting. Gwharr grinned widely as he laid eyes on the creature. It looked mighty tasty indeed and he was ever so hungry. In a swift motion he had leapt from the tree, landing upon the dog, the sheer weight of him breaking the poor creatures neck, killing it instantly. He laughed giddily as he he heard its final whimper.

no time was wasted as the caveman grabbed the dead dog, screwing its head off in the same manner a human would unscrew a sodabottle, cackling coarsly all the while he did this. For a few seconds he considered making a fire to cook the dog over although he ultimately decided against it, since he was far too hungry to take the time to make a fire. Luckily dogs were tasty when they were raw as well. The hungry giant decided that he had no more time to waste on thinking when there was fresh dog to eat. Gwharr had never really understood the point of table-manners and his preffered method of eating was to get as much meat as possible into his stomach as fast as possible. His powerfull jaws and strong teeth were biting through bone and cartilge, like a hot knife through butter, ripping great chunks out of the creature wich he swallowed whole, far too hungry to savour it.

His gluttonous meal was soon interrupted by a loud bang wich caught his attention. He dropped what remained of the half-eaten dog and immediately found the source of the noise. A human with a stick. One of the "Bangsticks" they used to kill with. The man was middleaged and grey, yet had a sturdy build. He looked at Gwharr with a mixture of fear and rage etched into his features as he took aim with his bangstick. Gwharr growled menacingly, the behaviour of this man would not be tolerated. He quickly grabbed a branch above him and pulled himself back onto his feet whilst the human still fiddled with his bangstick. He growled once more, a little louder this time as he took a step towards the intruder who recklessly fired at him.

This was the last straw for our hero. roared loudly as he beat his chest, trying to scare the newcommer into submission, but this only provoked the man into fiddling even more with his bangstick, he was shivering now, yet he fired true with his weapon, wich unfortunately for him did not have much of an effect on Gwharr. The bullet merely bounced of his forehead without leaving so much as a bruise. The gargantuan caveman howled as he leapt at the man, trying to grab ahold of him with his long arms. There would be no mercy now. He had tried to kill Gwharr, and therefor he must be punished. Gwharr would kill him and eat him. No reason to leave good meat behind.

The hunter narrowly managed to barely duck out of the cavemans grasp, and soon started runnning in the opposite direction, seemingly panicking. Gwharr cackled viciously as he took to the trees, swinging from branch to branch, slowly gaining on the man. He liked when they panicked, it made hunting them down so much easier. panicking prey made mistakes and wore themselves out faster. He just had to keep close and wait untill the man tired himself out or screwed up. he roared viciously as he followed the prey, mostly to keep it scared, keep it from thinking straight.

The moment he had waited for came soon enough when the man caught a foot under a root and fell over. It did not take the primitive neanderthal leap down onto the ground and end the hunt with a swift blow. there was much meat on this man, so he would have enough food for almost a week!

Approved but you should know you're going to have a hard time doing much of anything being so slow and having such a low FS.

Approved and such. <3