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Appearance:

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He wears his blond hair in a tribal mohawk, with both sides of his head shaved close and the hair in the middle long and tied back. He is also very fond of his beard. His eyes are a bright, attention-drawing blue, which he counts as a blessing and a curse. He bears many scars and is often covered in dirt and mud. He wears light armor, enough to be protected, but not enough to weigh him down. If given a choice, he'll choose dark clothes - they hide the dirt better and bring out his eyes. He's of average height, but with a muscular build that helps him intimidate those who need to be intimidated. Expressions chase each other across his face throughout the day. It's hard for most people to guess what he's thinking.
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Personality:

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He's not a terribly serious fellow, but he is arrogant. The sort of man to start a bar fight. He is selfish, greedy, and he talks too much and too loud. Hurt his pride and he'll break your nose. Well, normally. Though it may not seem like it, he follows a code; he will not cause harm to those who don't deserve it. Although, the right amount of coin can change his mind on occasion. He is a fierce friend, if someone were to actually become friends with him. It's not easy to get close to Yngvald, not at all. He tends to take advantage of people's feelings and often makes them think they're his friend - right before stabbing them in the back. Moreover, he prefers animals over people - especially dogs and horses.
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History:

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It's anyone's guess as to who his parents were. He has no memory of them. All he knows is that he was raised by a small tribe of bandits, mostly men. Thus, his upbringing lacked the sort of motherly affection he didn't even know he was craving. As a boy, he was taught how to ride a horse, sail a boat, and of course, fight. As soon as he could carry his axe, he was involved in the pillaging and general mischief that bandits are known for. He spent his teen years with them, but as he approached his twenties he became rebellious. Though inexperienced, Yngvald insisted he knew best. He wanted to be in charge. Unsurprisingly, he started to fight with the leader of the tribe. At first they were just arguments, but it escalated to full-on brawls. Finally, the tribe leader had enough. When the inevitable brawl broke out, the leader beat Yngvald senseless and kicked him out of the tribe for good. When he came to, all he had were his clothes and his axe. He wandered aimlessly for a few months just trying to survive. One day he came across a neglected but good-natured horse. Seeing the opportunity, he stole the beast for himself and never looked back. He's been wandering and taking work wherever he can ever since.
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Miscellaneous:

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Chaotic Neutral alignment. He uses an axe and shield, and can hunt with a bow. His horse, Bran, goes with him everywhere.

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WEASEL

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