Post by patrick on May 10, 2012 15:26:10 GMT -5
Name: Vuurknarth Eladrindrokth (the last name translates to "Eladrin slayer" I think Orc's should have to earn their last name in battle or in their trade or whatever.)
Nicknames: No one has ever been on friendly enough terms to give him a nick name. A considerably stupid drunkerd once attempted to call him "Vorky." The brawl was short, and the tavern had to rebuild a wall.
Age: 29
Sex: male
Race: Orc
Class: Berzerker
Job: Warrior for hire, body guard, plow puller (when times a tough).
Sexual Orientation: Wouldn't mind having some Orc children if he ever found a willing mate.
Eyes: deep yellow
Hair: A short black pony tail
Height: 7 feet 8 inches
Weight: upwards of 300 pounds
Clothing Style: Massive boar skin boots and heavy loin cloth that smell like the worst of death and grease, tattered leather that almost seems irrelevant due to the callousness of his own grayish green skin holds a large iron shoulder guard on his left shoulder, and heavy iron bracers that have been worn and chipped throughout there years of service.
Distinguishing features: Slips into Orcish at random intervals.
Play by:
Likes: violence (everything that violence entails like killing, blood, etc cetera...), meat, a good scar every now and then, his sword, sleeping where he falls
Dislikes: conversation, formality, weakness, missing a chance to test his mettle, family
Strengths: sword fighting, brute strength, endurance,
Weaknesses: he is quick tempered, can't read well, and charges into battle with little to knowledge as to the circumstances
Fear: magic, not being strong enough, losing his Orc heritage in the company of puny men.
Hopes and Dreams: fame through battle, and survival (harder than you think)
Family: An average sized family that he has long since abandoned
History: His lust for violence drove him out of the mountain keep he was raised at the ripe age of 25. Instead of engaging in all out wars that took any who could wield pike like Vuurknarth had always hopped, the Orc lords occupied themselves with petty grabs for power and appeasing the more aggressive of human civilizations. One of his first and most notable exploits as a marauding murderer is when woke from a slumber that started on the edge of a peaceful field and ended on the edge of battle field. Quickly after choosing a side that didn't seem totally hopeless he realized he was taking part in an extermination of Eladrin conducted by the local human population. Vanquishing several of the smaller ones without much sustained damaged he looked for a more challenging foe, and his choice just happened to be in the middle of summoning sort of hell beast to its aid. Vuurknarth quickly bashed his way through the feeble line of defense the Eladrin were attempting to hold and just as lightning arched from his targets arms into the center of the glowing pentacle inscribed on the ground Vuurknarth thrust his mighty blade through the unreacting foe, and much to his surprise, the Eladrin exploded. Exploded with such magical force and ferocity that all other battling immediately ceased. Vuurknarth thought he was burning, he thought he was freezing, he thought He was being struck by lightning, drowned and thrown from a mountain all at the same time. That was the last Vuurknarth felt for days. During those days of unconsciousness the soldiers who's lives the Orc had unwittingly saved cared for him. Upon awakening, Vuurknarth's dulled senses allowed only for his most basic thoughts. He immediately began dazedly searching for his sword. Exiting the camp the soldiers had he realized again he was the sean of the battle. Recognizing the crater his fatal blow had made he headed for the center to find what he was looking for. Not one soldier attempted to move it for two reasons; the first, it was over six feet long and would have taken at least two strong men to lift it, and second, it was glowing red. Not red hot. Just a bright red. Most men accurately attributed this to the fact that it had been thrust through a powerful Eladrin in the middle of a frightening summons. Vuurknarth, however had no such ideas. As soon as his big hand touched it the glow receded into into the inscribed runes, and then to nothing. Unwilling to consider the implications of this, Vuurknarth sheathed his blade and said nothing as he began walking the opposite direction from that he came. Since then he has been testing his mettle on any occasion he has seen fit; engaging in local skirmishes, guarding rich men who's enemies out weighed there courage, and taking part in far to many meed fueled brawls than can be considered healthy.
What would you like to be called: Patrick, Patar, Pat.
Are you a boy or a girl: Boy
How long have you been role-playing: I haven't
How did you hear about us: a friend
Why are you joining? What caught your eye: cause it sounds like a rally fun and challenging way to not only spend time but also get better at writing.
Sample RP post:
"Aaarrgh!" groaned Vuurknarth heaving the plow to the side. "I've been at this all day! This Orc needs rest."
"Hey, your the one who asked for this." The farmer said passively. "Now if your going to do it, do it right."
"I am no animal." Vuurknarth said as he stepped closer making sure that his immense height was made as obvious as possible.
"Quite that tusked mouth of yours you piece of filth! You get paid when the work is done." A mild flurry of spittle erupted from the farmers mouth as those last syllable were uttered. None of it reached the Orc's face, but he took it as if it did.
"The work IS done!" roared Vuurknarth while planting a quick and decisive kick right on the farmer's chest. The force of which sent him a good dozen feet back and laying half conscious in a pile of dirt watching his hired help launch his iron plow at his wood house. The hole it left was sizable, but the noise it made was fearsome. In the blind rage that so often over took him Vuurknaarth charged at the wooden cabin solidly planting his trusty iron shoulder guard against the back corner beam that still stood. The whole house fell before Vuurknarth Eladrindrokth. Seeing as the ruins were beginning to catch fire Vuurknaarth reached down to grab his sword, and headed of in the opposite direction of the he came.
