Adrastos Nikon

A Thundering of Hooves


From head to front hooves, Adrastos is 7’4" and weighs a girthy 655 lbs. While most centaurs have long flowing manes, he prefers to keep his chestnut hair short, a style he regards as more practical for fighting.


Centaurs are, as a species, rather shy, a trait developed over many generations to help them survive in a world where “civilized” folk see them as an abomination. Even those who take up arms tend to prefer the safety alloted them with a bow. Adrastos is not most centaurs. As a young mare, he was rather curious of the settlements he was warned to never go near. He would often travel under cover of night to investigate what it was about two legged society that so terrified his clan. He didn’t see much difference between centaurs and humans, mentally anyway. That was until the night he got captured.

There had been some problems with wolves raiding the farm. The farmers, trying to defend their livestock, had set traps, and Adrastos was unfortunate enough to have caught a leg in one of their metal mouths. In the morning, he was forced into a cage and sold into the travelling circus as a sideshow. He was kept malnourished and laughed at, a spectacle of how abhorrent nature could be. It would be two years before he would finally be free, his cage smashed open by a friendly elf with hair as red as fire. She ran off, freeing the other animals before he had a chance to thank her or learn her name. Adrastos returned to his tribe, a fire burning in his heart. It was time for them to stop fearing the humans and teach them who ought to be feared.

It was during the Third Great War that he would finally get to repay his dues. He had spent the years since his release bolstering his might, gaining the position of clan warlord, and even uniting a few of the other neighboring clans under his banner. He had already begun to make a name for himself amongst the humans as a scourge to those who would dare to try and tame his wild lands. And yet here they were, marching in ranks upon Cairn Morel, treading on centaur holy land. The druids had been one of the few two legged folk that the centaurs had ever trusted and they needed help. This was so much more than allies in need. Adrastos had seen her in his dreams every night since she had released him, the archdruidess who pleaded for his help. This was a chance for him to repay his debt. Although Genisys had a vastly larger army, Adrastos had learned how to fight against the odds, the way things had always been for the centaurs. The Gomorrans hadn’t brought nearly enough spears to take him down, especially not with his will being hardened to iron in this moment. With a war cry that seemed to shake the very ground, he charged into the waves of steel that spread out before him, two mighty battleaxes glinting as they cleared their sheaths.

Adrastos Nikon

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