Eric Chambers, Scion of Tyr

"I’ve learned all the lore, I’ve been told all the tales
Ancient legends of war are the wind in my sails
The deeds of the brave come alive in the rhyme
And the myth is my ship on the ocean of time
I can feel it is near, I can see it appear and at dawn on the
Glittering Heath I saw it all, gold lay beneath
And the Dragon did meet its bane and was slain and at Dawn at the
Valkyries hill, crossing the fire, acting her will
Was the slayer and how alive though it seems
I was there in my dreams"
- Tyr, Dreams



Eric is 6ft 2inches tall, with short cut blonde hair. He has piercing turquoise eyes which look like a lot older than Eric actually is. He looks to be in his early 30’s but is actually in his mid 30’s. He is well built and is well toned and muscled. He is missing his right hand which has been bitten off by a wolf; it looks as if it naturally grew that way. He currently has extended canines and finger nails that have hardened and grown a bit, looking claw like and they look as if they grew naturally. He is normally seen wearing his New Orleans police uniform while in New Orleans, unless he is going on a raid or a fight when he normally wears his riot gear. When he is off duty he is seen wearing jeans and a shirt and looks very relaxed. He wears a crude necklace which is a metal chain with 8 wolf canines attached to it. He carries with him his Asp that his father made for him. The glove that was given to him by his father contains a strand of Gleipner which was used to bound Fenrir into his current prison. He also carries with him a clockwork bear helm that was gifted to him by the Norns as well as a clockwork dragon called Fafnir.


My Name is Eric Chambers and I am a member of the New Orleans Police Force. Before my life was changed and I was conscripted into my Father's war I was just a normal, everyday person. I was born on the 7th of August 1973 which was a Tuesday. I was born to a single mother of the name Julia Chambers. She was a beautiful woman and one of the few people in my early life. I didn’t have a father growing up, he had died in shooting before I was born and my mother always got upset whenever I asked questions about him. She always wore the wedding ring and the only photo of my father that I was allowed to see was from their wedding.

We lived in the Irish Channel District of New Orleans where my mother had grown up and my father had lived. We had every one round us Irish, Germans, Italians, African Americans and some Scandinavians as well. Everyone knew everyone next door and across the street you couldn’t keep a secret in that place without it being spread throughout the street. No one gave my mother for being a single mother as she had not had me out of wedlock. Neighbours always commented that I look liked my father especially my eyes; they had the same turquoise colouring. We stayed in the house my mother and father had bought and was living in and I still live in it to this day.

I remember my first day of school in August of ’78. My mother had bought me new clothes especially for the day. That was the highlight of the day it went downhill from there. First day of school and my mother was called in because I had been caught fighting in school grounds with an older boy. I tried to explain that I was helping another younger boy that was being picked on by the older one but no one would listen to me. The older boy was covered in bruises and cuts and I was hardly touched. I got the hiding of my life when I got home.

Elementary School continued on the same course. I got into fights trying to protect those that couldn’t or wouldn’t stand up for themselves but got no friendship in return. I was alone apart from my mother who was getting more stressed by the day about me. I overheard her talking to our Neighbour Mrs Irving one day about shipping me off to military school but she never did send me away.

I got out of elementary being one of the most hated kids in school. I wasn’t liked by anyone. The bullies or popular kids as they liked to call themselves viewed me as a threat and a target. They didn’t like the fact that I had caused them grief but they used to set the teachers on me saying I was fighting even when I wasn’t, and the ones that I tried to protect didn’t want anything to do with me thinking that I was going to replace the bully that I had just taken care of.

It got worse in High School, bigger school more people and the enemies I had made during my early years had banded together and gathered a large group of friends round them. It hadn’t helped that I was kicked out of several elementary schools causing my mother no end of grief and increasing the amount of people that hated my guts. I stayed out of trouble as best I could for my first year there. I would run or leave myself an escape plan, and if they caught me I would accept the beatings that I was given. My mother thought I was fighting but never got a call from the school about me. They did all the normal things school bullies did and more. I tried out for the football team in my first year and was picked for the first team and enjoyed some relief of being hounded after school hours but there were even people in my own team that would rather get me than the opposition.

I eventually snapped part way through my second year. I had saved up enough money to buy my mother a present for her birthday and bought it during lunch one day and kept it in my locker. The fire alarm went off during class and I found that someone had put a light cigarette and matches into my locker and had set it on fire. I was expelled that day but managed to get back into school after a couple of weeks as they thought no child would have been able to do what I had done, and I didn’t believe I had done it either but I had.

I was avoided by everyone at school after that. People shouted abuse at me in the hallways and left stuff in my lockers but they do anything if I could be within arm’s reach of them. I was kicked off the football team as one of the boys I took out was the coach’s son. I couldn’t do anything about that and the children I had grown up with were even avoiding me, at school and at home. I was totally alone even my mother wasn’t talking to me as much anymore. I had heard her friends refer to me as a problem child and in need for help. One of said that I need a father figure and that my mother should have remarried before I had started school. It was after that my mother had started dating again and that was a rough spell for me and my mother.

I remember the only man my mother brought home and he was the last. The man was a violent bastard and a drunk as well. My mother was with him for the better part of 2 years. He moved in with us after they had been together six months after he had lost his job. I was 17 when this happened and I was only a couple of years away from graduating high school. He used to come back from the bar drunk as hell at night and either hit my mum or me if we were within reach. I used to hear him beat my mother at night and she became more tight lipped with each passing month and wasn’t the woman I remember anymore. The day I turned 18 he tried to kick me out the house and I had enough of him. I threw him out the house and kicked him a few times and I’m sure I cracked his ribs. He came back to the house a few times after that, always drunk and always looking for a fight. The last time I saw him he was being dragged off by the police and he never came back afterwards, until I read in the paper that he had been killed, A single gunshot to the head.

I didn’t know what to do after high school. I wasn’t going to college I didn’t have the brains to do that and the jobs I applied for I was either interviewed by a relative of one of the bullies from school or they were already working at the place and I would get told I was an unsuitable candidate after a few days of having an interview. It wasn’t until I saw an armed robbery in progress at the local grocery store and saw how the police responded that I decided to join the New Orleans police force.

The Academy was like school in that we had to be taught and there were the couple of people who liked to pull practical jokes but it was in good fun, unlike school. I completed the course head of my class and had excelled at all the physical training. It was then that I was no longer a cadet but a trooper of the New Orleans Police Force.

I had spent the minimum time required as a patrol officer before I applied to join the SWAT team in New Orleans and after 3 more years of proving myself I was promoted to First Class Trooper and was presented with my gold FCT badge that was in the year 1996. My mother was so proud of me and I still lived with her throughout this time but I was finally able to move out to a place of my own at this time but I want to far away from her and still had Sunday dinner with her every week and we spent every holiday together. She had returned to the bright, happy woman that I remember from my childhood and her friend no longer made any hurtful comments about me it was all praise.

I decided to put in for my promotion in ’97 as I had served for a full year and my captain at the time Captain Robert Bardy said I should go for it. I believe he said “We have never had a police officer with a service record as yours Trooper Chambers and you would be a great asset higher up the chain of command.” So I went for it and got my promotion to sergeant after having only served for 6 years in the police force. My mother saw me getting my gold New Orleans police badge and handing back my silver one and getting my stripes for my uniform as well. It didn’t take much afterwards to be rocketing up the chain of command. 2 years later I was made a Lieutenant and shortly after that Captain Bardy was promoted to Major and put in a personnel request that I be his replacement as Captain in his district. By the year 2000 I was a captain in the New Orleans Police force after only 9 years of service. My mother was overwhelmed with excitement and we had grown closer together over this time and it was like the old days again.

When I was Captain being presented with my new badge was a honour. I had the number that Bardy used to have as in New Orleans the badge number indicates rank as the lower number means a higher rank. Since I was a Captain I had more time on my hands and I started to look through the old case files. I found my father’s service record. He had died 2 weeks before I was born; gang violence and he had been highly decorated during his service. He had been promoted only a few months before his death to Captain and his badge number matched the one that I was now wearing. I guess it was just chance that I got the badge but it felt like such an honour to be wearing it and my record was the only one to best him but I had been on the force longer than him but even no one had come close in the history of the New Orleans Police Force to arrests made.

It was in 2001 that I was injured for the first time on duty, and was awarded my Police Officer Purple Heart for this as well as the Public Safety Officer Medal of Valour. It was during a drugs raid down in the port on the 30th of May 2001. We were busting up a cocaine smuggling operation and it had gone horribly wrong from the get go someone must have leaked information to the smugglers. We were ambushed on our way in and 3 of the 10 man team were killed instantly while the rest of us were injured. We were pinned down in amongst the cargo containers with no way out. I don’t remember much of what happened after that but have been told reports that still shock me to this day. I save the rest of the team even after sustaining more hits and coming under repeated fire and still managed to make the arrests and hand them over to the backup.

I awoke in hospital a day or so later with the beeping of a heart monitor in my ear and my mother holding my hand. I was laid out on a bed, bandaged all over and my Commanding officer standing vigil at the door to my room. I remember my mother crying as well and it cut me straight to the heart. That is when I was told what had happened and that I had done more than any officer could have done but was told that I wasn’t going to be in active service for at least 6 months while I recovered from my ordeal. I remember sitting there confused and once my mother had left not sure what to do with myself. For week I lay in a hospital bed. I was visited by colleagues and by the Chief himself which was Richard Pennington at the time.

It was during the Chief’s visit I was told some exciting news which was that I was going to receive a new award that was going to be presented to me by the President himself. It was to be the Public Safety Officer Medal of Valour and I was going to be the first to receive the award and that I was to receive the Purple Heart as well as a couple of medals for my service as well, but I would be receiving them until I was discharged from hospital. My mother was over the moon to hear that I was going to be meeting the President himself to be awarded a medal.

During the time I spent in hospital I got to know my nurse very well. She was an amazing woman, comforting my mother, forcing me to remain in bed for my health and just keeping me company during the long hours I was by myself. Her name was Aimee as she was a beauty. She would sit and talk to me about her family history and the fact that her family were some of the first slaves to come to New Orleans. She was proud of that fact and said it was because she could trace her roots back to the start of the city while most people could barely trace their line back a few generations. When I was discharged we decided that we should go on a date at some point and that I should call her.

I had all my awards ceremonies not long after I was out and didn’t have time to call her. I was in Washington meeting the President. Flying first class was a luxury for me and my mother. He didn’t seem as stupid as the media mad him out to be. A very charming man to talk to and asked me about what had happened when he was presenting me with my medal. It wasn’t until a week had passed until I managed to phone Aimee and we went on our first date and we hit it off.

Time flew by as I was with her. My mother really liked her and would show her all my baby photos and joined us for Sunday lunch every time that she wasn’t working and would go to church with us. After only 6 months we decided that we should live together and was going back to join the force but only behind my desk until another 6 months had passed before I could be back out on the street. It drove me mad sitting looking at paper work for those 6 months. I wanted to be back out of the street catching criminals and upholding the law.

I thought the worst of my life was over school had been hell and my life seemed to be on the up once I had joined the police force but 2003 proved to be a disaster year. It was in April that I was contacted at work and was told that my mother had been admitted to hospital. I rushed out and was met at the hospital by Aimee as she had been working and was worried. I found out that my mother had had a heart attack but was stable and would be allowed out tomorrow. I asked my mother if she would like me to move back in with her to help and she said if Aimee was willing. Aimee agreed with me and we moved back in with my mother and sold my apartment.

It was living with my mum that everything went wrong with me and Aimee. She started getting worried about me since I had started going back on the street but when I told her I was rejoining SWAT she just broke down entirely but we stayed together. My mother grew worse over time as well we knew she wasn’t well and eventually discovered that there was a problem with her heart and that we had left it to long for an operation to be successful.

It wasn’t long until she was on her death bed and that night will still haunt me. She was getting weaker and there was nothing I could do and there was nothing I could say but be with her. I stayed in the hospital and Aimee would come and sit with me as well. My mother took off her wedding ring, as she had refused for it to be removed from her, and placed it in my hand and whispered “When you marry give this to your wife, don’t buy another ring. Your father gave this to me and I have never lost it. You have made me proud Eric and I love you.” That was the last words she said to me before she fell asleep again and never woke again. As the machine started its constant drone I could swear I heard a howl, but it wasn’t from a dog is was more primal and feral and made my hair stand on end. I cried that night for the first time since I was a little boy and got home to the waiting arms of Aimee.

Something changed in me after my mother’s death I became reckless. I started doing raids without backup and Aimee got more and more worried about me. I wasn’t dealing well with my mother’s death. The ring kept reminding me of her and it had been engraved as well “To My Dearest Julia Love Thomas” I kept it with me at all times.

Aimee eventually snapped no more than a week after my mother’s death as she had a call from Major Bardy saying that I had been taken too many unnecessary risks and that I needed help. She pleaded with me to take some time off and then go back to a desk but I didn’t listen to her. She broke down eventually and spent the night with her sister. The next day she came down to the station and saw I was geared up for a raid and she slapped me, it hurt but not a physical pain. When I got home that night I found that she had moved out all her stuff and left me a note saying that she couldn’t be with me if I was on this path. I didn’t see her until my mother’s funeral and I guess she showed up to pay her respects to my mother than see me. I never saw her again after that.

I continued along with my life and in 2005 hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans. It was a shocking experience but the aftermath was terrible. Police Officers were going AWOL, joining in the looting and just ignoring what was going on around them. Most of them went around saying best to ignore than become a target. I didn’t believe that and kept going and the place together with Major Bardy. We didn’t have a single case of officers not reporting for duty or going missing. We did the best job we could and the department district was awarded afterwards for running such a tight ship and every officer was given a special pin to show that we had served and stayed during Katrina.

It was 2007 when I met my father and my story continues on from there

Eric's Diary