After a 4 yr stint in the north gate garrison, a call for aid (Wheiapugh) that could not be ignored even against the churches wishes. starting rank was corporal, with a wage of 35 silvers a month. Being favored by Mekaine was heavily beneficial in the frozen north (+1 to tour checks).
Striker becomes the defacto leader of the party when Helvia fails to return from where ever she disappeared to.

Striker goes unarmed into the domain of the people who call themselves the ‘denizens’, a odd breed of nurth and ducateon. Striker earns some trust by using the mirror of id, offering his very life to prove himself.
The party manages to communicate with the spirit of Vestuul, a great dragon that lies dormant in the mountain range. He is the one the Denizens call the ‘great protector’. The party learns of the scheme of the Nurth and agree to quell this evil by plunging into the heart of thier dark lair and destroying the ritualistic runes that have been enacted by the diseased creatures. Equipped to the best of their ability the party delves into Nurth domain. Striker decides to strike at the heart of the Nurth, in the Dark-brood Warrens where the darkness is so thick even Risks Ducateon senses cannot penetrate it.
The party discovers the Rune they are looking for, and it is recognized as a power of Gloombringer. Striker decides he stands a better chance of desecrating the rune than attempting to dispel it with his conviction. The hammer blows against the rune echo through out the caverns, and Striker is struggling between each blow as the backlash grows progressively stronger. Striker prevails against the Rune after 4 blows, looking obviously pained and the hammer he was using tarnished beyond repair.

Dragon Scale armor was a gift from Vestuul himself after desecrating runes believed to be tied to Gloombringer.

Excited and anxious to return home, and to see what Quarter master had made of the guilds issues, we packed our travel gear and prepped for the long journey. At this point Striker told the party he was going north. He’d promised to help the grollens with their civil war and must be on his way. No one wanted to go, and he did not ask…. but no one would leave him behind.
Instead of going south, we booked passage aboard a river vessel to Ordney, where we would resupply and travel west, hoping to follow that only path north Striker was familiar with. It took us months to get from home to here… this journey will likely take 6 months or more just one direction.
Striker met with some local wealthy man, agreeing to run an errand or him. In exchange he gave us a guide for a certain distance through the wylds and offered us a ‘favor’ on our way south. We must take the guide and a box to the pine tribesmen and then allow the guide and a hostage to return home. It is on our way and we know little of the area so the deal seemed good. We have dropped off the package and retrieved the hostage. Striker used this period of rest and negotiations to convince/bribe the guide to take us all the way trough the wylds. We leave the Tribesmen and very quickly realize we are being followed. The guide spends much time hiding our trail and keeping us from being overtaken before we can leave the territory. He proves expert in his craft and we avoid the band. By some miracle or stroke of luck the band following us caught us at the very edge of their territory. we could even see a semblance of a road in the distance. Striker was drawn off by 2 scouts who baited him away from us. Striker returned bloody but unharmed. Not even his armor was scratched.When asked about his combat Striker simply stated “it’s the same as always,any time i get near enemies they die!”
Before making it to the blood river we were assaulted by a ghoul and a few animations. They must have thought we would be easier prey, between our gifts from Bug eyes and Strikers experience with the undead we made short work of them. Even the Ghoul was less threatening than it should have been. Striker is concerned that the undead were this deep into human territory. Apparently they are NEVER south of the river.
An undead hunter of the church of Merkaine has apparently been waiting for us to arrive. He seems to revere Striker and was sent to protect/ escort him. He has 2 companions, one a common enough soldier while the other is clearly a young umbakian, though his white hair makes him seem much older. We Learn nothing of the umbakian, but it turns out the undead hunter is an Exilion. Only striker seems to understand what that truly means, and is very closed mouthed about what he knows. With the arrival of the Exilion Striker decides to go into the Altain mountains to petition the Church of Merkaine for some assistance with our travels. He speaks of healing and provisions i believe.
It is not until we are nearly to the door steps that we see fallen bodies across the church yard, both those of the church and those that were clearly undead or animations. The front door is barred and no one responds to us banging on the thick, metal- bound wood. Movement is noticed around the south side of the building and we advance in formation around the corner. The sight we see is quite horrifying. A line of ghouls backed by 3 skeletons atop what look to be zombie horses. In the very back a chain armored figure with his hands raised, pulling darkness to him. Taume and Striker were striking in conjunction, causing the ghouls to drop writhing with flames consuming their bodies. The battle over the church was thankful for the assistance, but refused to apologize for not opening the doors when Striker pounded on them. They explained that they had been assaulted for days and that the undead had tried everything to get in. Striker seemed to take this as a personal offense and did not do well with the church representatives. They healed us all, fed us, gave us some healing potions and provisions, and herded us out the door.
In Thurlow we repaired armor and took a needed rest. A grollen from the northern tribes met us there and is going to show us the way to his people. We made it to a grollen out post, escorting the remainder of the pilgrimage. Waiting for us there was a message that we assumed was from the vampire. He claimed that the leader of the pilgrimage had something he wanted, and that if it was not returned he would kill and animate a child per day. Dire news, and something the party does not take well. It turns out that the item the vampire wants is an ancient artifact of Dejurdith. With the Grollen tribes in civil war the undead have grown bold, and this pilgrimage set out to give the artifact and therefore the title to the Grollens, if they promised to end their feuds and return to guarding against the undead. The Grollens take the artifact, our guide claiming that his brother is the rightful heir to the chiefdom and therefore the artifact is his to protect, the other grollens back him.

Striker seems not to care, stating that he would not trade the artifact for the children anyways. As much as it pains him, the entire north is not worth 3 children. He says he came to help our guides brother unify his tribe, and he must see that done for the good of the north and his word.

“the party can do as it feels it must, I am going to push forward to assist as I must with the issue that brought me here in the first place. I am concerned that we have taken too long already. it is tragic that these children have been taken but i must press forward. Damn i hate making this kind of a choice and am angry with the gods for putting it in my path. I wonder just how much enjoyment their sick minds receive from watching me struggle so. I have no love for the undead but i feel i need to but some order to the chaos and if correcting the grollen issue can find me some allies than i must accomplish that first before it is to late.”
Striker

With the Grollen once again focusing their energy on the undead oozing from the north and not on their fractured petty tribal disputes the party can head south and reconnect with quarter master and the guild.

Skriker has a vision From Wheyipugh. ” I am pleased with you and are not a disgrace in my eyes. I grant you the rites of your faith as if you have known them for years. I grant you Lupus Bond.”