Rogue Arrancar; Gerulf Iron-Brier

Born a year [792 AD] before the beginning of the great Viking Age, Gerulf found his home within Scandinavia. Born into a noteworthy clan of Vikings he had pretty much been bred for the purpose of being a warrior. Childhood was harsh as there was no room for weakness and no mercy was to be given. And despite his attempts at being a child he only received five lashings throughout his entire life. Taking to the rigorous training as he did the cold, he would not pause in it's wake.

With no other siblings to spend time with he'd obtain a dog and wolf hybrid pup after witnessing his Father slay it's Dire Wolf mother. And other than his training and his training of his new pet, which he named Gunjar, little would happen amongst his younger years. Save for when he turned ten and his Clan's only rival assaulted his own when they were preparing to move out for a raid. Fires raged as steel sang through flesh and bone.

Luckily prepared for travel and combat already they'd drive off their attackers, but at a cost of 1/3rd of their forces and nearly all of their food supply stolen or destroyed. Yet, already trained for harsher conditions Gerulf would step up like many others, refusing to let his/their clan die out like the runt of a litter. Working diligently to get more food and such before a harsh winter hit Gerulf would eventually find himself gaining praise from his father.

Twelve now he had already bested many of his peers and some of his seniors in combat, allowing him to join in on raids. Despite this he was not given any special treatment, not even from his father who was the clan leader. A foot soldier and nothing more when they landed for raids he was shrugged aside by many of his larger peers. Yet, his smaller size and speed allowed him to out maneuver them, allowing him to preform the duty mostly of a scout.

Aiding in his Clan's rise to "Fame" he was finally given the title of Heir at the age of sixteen. Slowly relaxing his harsh attitude though he became somewhat of a jokester amongst his people, though he was wary to not become a fool in his Father's eyes. Taking Gungnir out on a hunt one afternoon [now 21], Gerulf would eventually bag his game, a large deer, though shortly after came upon a lone female. Her furs light and her shivering obvious he took her to his village, leaving behind his kill.

Taking her directly to his father he spoke on wanting to keep her around to help the other females in their clan. This was mostly done because he believed the girl to be the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes upon. Her name being Hretha, Gerulf nigh refused to send her back out into the cold. Gaining even more praise from his father due to his "demanding" he'd be noticed for his bravery and confidence, but warned not to do it again. And that night he'd lay with the wild girl, but pass out once they had finished.

Out like a rock he wouldn't notice the girl slitting Gungnir's throat outside of his hut or her venture to his Father's hut. Waking to roars and screams he was startled, Hretha was gone. Leaping from his bed he'd nearly fly outside, only to land in something thick and cold. Looking down he'd gain visage of what had happened, Gungnir had been killed. Clutching his only childhood friend tears would begin to roll down his burning cheeks. This would go on for a short while before he was approached by his mother, who told him of his father's death and that the girl had fled the village.

An outstanding amount of anger building up within him he'd immediately take the mantle of Clan Leader and prepare his fellow Vikings for a hunt. Setting out that very night they'd track the girl down for nearly a day before they found her sprinting through a large open field. Being the one to bring her down with a single arrow, piercing her calf, he'd dismount his horse and prepare to execute her. Yet, as he prepared to do so, so did a horn bellow from the woods opposite to himself and his Clan.

And out from the woods poured the only Clan he had ever wanted to decimate entirely, the only Clan he wanted to erase from history. The Bear Claw's charged forward on horseback, stopping just ten meters away from Gerulf and Hretha. With the girl quickly being introduced as the Bear Claw Leader's daughter, Gerulf would slit her throat without pause or any real sign of emotion. He had been tricked, he had been made a fool. Disgusted with himself he would speak to the Clan Leader, challenging him and his best men in combat alone to decide how the battle would commence. If he won, they'd murder the rest of the Bear Claws, if he lost then his Clan would join their ranks without hesitation.

Confident in his own capability he'd hold only his sword as he faced off against five behemoths of men. Despite the odds he would end up slaying the each and every one of the Bear Claw's "Best Warriors". Though he did receive quite a few bruises and wounds he stood prepared to face off against the Clan Leader who was backpedaling at this time. Realizing the man was a coward he'd lurch forward, throwing his sword as if it were a spear, hitting the man flush in the back and severing his spine, Gerulf was unprepared for the next action.

The Bear Claw's Leader would let out a roar of pain, yet the roar was applied to a simple word, "Charge!" Remaining confident, as well as the myriad of emotions running through him, he'd charge the Bear Claws alone, as his men were still quite a distance behind him. And by time they had reached him to aide him, he had already been cut down. Having done his best to dismount and kill all he could, Gerulf was, but a mortal and steel would be his undoing. Bleeding out he couldn't help, but wonder what would have happened if he had never met Hretha.

Passing on with his myriad of flaring emotions, the process of becoming a Hollow was interesting to say the least. Arising the next night he'd feed on the souls of those who had perished in the battle, Hretha first, then her Father and all of the fallen Bear Claw members before turning on the souls of his own men, devouring them as if he didn't even know them. Traveling along Scandinavia for quite sometime longer he would eventually find a way into Hueco Mundo after he had consumed enough souls.

Falling into a state of "Gluttony" due to his instincts he'd devour any soul he came across. He'd even learn a means to travel back to the mortal world, able to return their to consume even more souls. With the regaining of his own memories, thoughts, and overall consciousness he'd soon become a Adjuchas class Hollow. Taking shape of a purple beast with multiple hollow tubes along his back, head, etc. he'd bring terror upon other Hollows.

And while some sought to join him as servants in an attempt to gain his leftovers for power, they were simply devoured as well. This hunger and anger would eventually lead him to more notable areas in the mortal world, which would cause him to run into a Shinigami before too long. Not fully understanding what he was facing or caring he assaulted the being, hungry as ever. And though he suffered a grievous wound to his left side/hip, the Shinigami would fall pray to his might.

Returning to Hueco Mundo he didn't take the time to heal, instead he'd continue assaulting other Hollows. And despite his irritated wound he never gave up or showed any weakness, he didn't have time for it. Nearly losing his own soul due to this, many began to wonder if he was your average Adjuchas. Nonetheless the centuries went on and he became a bit more of a hermit, avoiding the others for sought after solitude. Despite this as time passed so did they change, a new being had entered their world offering considerable power.

Seeking the man he'd find himself amongst a moderate sized group of Adjuchas who were doing the same. But, once they had made contact it became obvious that they all weren't getting the power. So out of instinct and desire Gerulf slaughtered his fellow Hollows, devouring them and offering his abilities to this, man. Becoming an Artificial Arrancar he quickly became prospect for the6th to 7th position amongst the newly formed Espada, but fell short of the individuals given the positions, and instead he'd find himself as a mere guard, refusing to take any other number.

But, with the man's falling so did he leave the others, returning to a hermit life, all though he continued to assault his fellow Hollows and Arrancar as well as even hunted down a few Shinigami. Since then he has claimed himself an outcast and a rogue.

Sitting atop Aaroniero Arruruerie's former Palace Gerulf let his feet swing back and forth as he was on the edge of the roof. It had been only a short time since their fall and he did his best to avoid what remained of those who had followed him. Despite this he often frequented the very palace he sat upon, though he never really stayed for long. Digging a gloved pinky into his ear he'd remove a bit of earwax from it before flicking it to the sands below. "Tsk, shits so dull these days.....aint even seen another Arrancar in days now..."

SHARKK.

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