Or'Zugkh

Started by Hound, April 24, 2014, 07:28:52 AM

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Hound

Made by request.

This PC never amounted to much, so I wasn't intending to give him an obituary - but he was a chaotic evil planar-bound sorcerer of Half-Orc, Half-Elf origins. I was trying to explore an alignment I'd never tried before and didn't particularly find it to my liking, so when he was killed by Ettercaps I decided to finish up the PC. It highly entertained me that he became the focal point of so much hatred and earned a reputation as a 'deadly' diabolist worth 3000 gold in bounty post-mortem.

No screenshots. Never took any. There's a short story I was writing for the PC's journal which I didn't finish before he died, but I'll post the unfinished product if anyone wants to take a look.

[hide=Text]
We were born to suffer. The only thing different between us is who suffers the most.

I learned this long ago. My world was young and filled with death, hatred and misery. Rocky crags and bloodsoaked fields groaned and buckled under the rampaging feet of hunters and hunted. Fear reeked like a noxious odour; a betraying scent of gasping breaths, panicked cries and scrabbling hands. Yells of pain as sharp rocks and biting splinters of wood rended tender flesh.

"Get the Knife-Ear! I'll rip out his tongue and eat it!" Ma'druk howled. An iron axe hewed the air and crashed into the granite beside me, unleashing a cloud of angry dust that buffeted my eyes. Spluttering and gasping, I quickly snatched the axe and scrambled over the top of the scree. I wasn't able to keep this up; I wasn't as strong or as quick as them, and they'd intercept me eventually. I had to find an escape before I tired.

The trackers had brought back word of a bulette taking residence in one of the local caverns. The bulette was a monstrous lizard-like beast of gargantuan proportions and comparable strength, otherwise known as a landshark for its distinctive fin that cuts through the earth as it burrows in pursuit of prey. If the beast was home, I was a dead man - but if I didn't flee there, the others would kill me.

Trapped between two graves, I opted for the most shallow.

I darted between two sunkissed rocks, ducking low with a cry of fear as a barbed arrow whistled over my head and skimmed my hair. I was terrified and close to tears - but I wasn't a loser and I wasn't going to give up. I forced my body to stay the course and barrelled through the crag towards the narrow ravine that marked the entrance to the bulette's lair. Whoops and bellows followed me, a pack of hyenas on the hunt. My limbs burned like fire and I was numbing to the pain. My vision was hazy, my throat parched - the sun was killing me more than they were. Suddenly, the world tumbled. Reality stepped to the left and my shoulder crashed against the earth. Sharp rocks lacerated my bicep whilst my flailing feet kicked up dust - I was sliding down the ravine, twisting here and there as I thrashed against the sand and stone. Suddenly, the acute descent came to a cruel halt and I toppled over the precipice of a sharp drop.

I hit the bottom hard and croaked. My throat was too dry to yell. My arm left a bloody trail, dripping sanguine as I staggered desperately towards the mouth of the cave. The stench of faeces and rotten meat was overwhelming - but the cool rush of air belied deep and storied ventilation; it made the darkness inviting. The howling wind brought tears to my eyes as they cooled and I submerged myself in the blackness.

My sight was knife-sharp. There is some strength in Elven blood and not all of it is magical. The tunnel had clearly been artificially widened - deep groove marks gave a ribbed feel to the cavern's walls where it had been dug out by the bulette for living space. I carefully navigated a trap-field of jagged animal bones cracked by lethal jaws. The hollering without began to echo within and I seized a thought - my pursuers would be far too eager on the hunt to notice these razors. I stopped to hastily shift a few bones into position, just to make the going that much harder for them. I bailed around a curve in the tunnel as Ma'druk and his boys reached the entrance.
[/hide]

Cheers.

The Machinist

Cool PC who created intrigue you likely we're not even aware of!

Corrigo

Nice job. You underestimate your performance.

efuincarnate

Far to early a retirement for a great villain. Even now, plots swirl around him.