Kastor Hubrin
The Blade with a Ledger
Champion of the Marienburgers
"You don't need to like me. You just need to stand where I tell you."
Kastor Hubrin is not what you’d call inspirational. He doesn’t make speeches. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t ask questions. He tells you what to do, and you do it—or you find yourself listed in the “expenses” column. A former sergeant in the Marienburg city watch turned sellsword, Kastor was dismissed for “excessive pragmatism”—which is to say, he survived every ambush, bribed when needed, and slit throats when cheaper than negotiations.
When Bernulf Ondelstahn sought a Champion who could keep the lads in line and the enemies bleeding, Kastor came recommended by three guilds… and warned against by seven more.
Role in the Warband
- Executes tactical orders with brutal efficiency.
- Keeps the hired swords from turning on each other—or on the Captain.
- Handles interrogations, punishments, and “disciplinary disappearances.”
Combat Style
- Wields a longsword and dagger in tandem—one for breaking defenses, the other for closing debts.
- Prefers to flank or ambush rather than charge.
- Ends fights quickly; doesn’t believe in dramatics or mercy.
Personality
- Cold, dry, and entirely unflappable.
- Not cruel—just brutally fair, like a tax audit with a sword.
- Keeps track of everyone's failures, including his own.
Appearance Traits
- Wears a reinforced leather coat stitched with hidden pockets and throwing knives.
- Scarred cheek from a smuggler's blade—he killed the man with a broken quill.
- Boots always polished, even if soaked in someone else's blood.
Rumors & Secrets
- Said to have once gutted a vampire spawn without realizing it was undead—he just thought it was overpriced.
- Keeps a small, worn notebook in his chest pocket. No one knows what’s inside, but he writes in it after every battle.
- Rumored to be the illegitimate son of a Marienburg alderman, but if he knows, he’s never said.
Kastor Hubrin isn’t here for glory or camaraderie. He’s here to survive, to profit, and to make sure the idiots around him do the same—by force if necessary. In the broken alleys of Mordheim, he's not your friend.
He’s your margin of error.
| Profile | M | WS | BS | S | T | W | I | A | Ld |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Kastor | 4 | 4 | 3 | 3 | 3 | 1 | 3 | 1 | 7 |
Story So Far:
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