VidkunFanel
New Member
Character sheet: Gaarek Valthurg
Preferred game speed: Slow. 1-3 Posts a day, Monday through Friday. Saturday and Sunday my schedule opens up.
Physical Description:
• 27 year old half-orc
• 6 ft 6 inches tall, 240 lbs, muscular build
• Dark olive green skin
• Long wavy black hair tied back in a loose braid
• Yellow eyes
• Various scars on his body, few on his face
• Wears a grey wool tunic with fur trim, tan wool pants, tall leather boots
• Carries a large maul with Malar iconography etched in the handle
Backstory:
Gaarek was born to a simple tribe of hunter/gatherers. Mostly surrounded by other half-orcs he faced little prejudice and enjoyed his childhood in the wilds. He learned to hunt and track prey with his mother, learned how to defend himself and those he cared for with his father, and even met the love of his life Mazoga, whom he married.
He had few encounters with city folk travelling in their large caravans for safety. Their colorful tents, trinkets, and baubles would catch his eye but he didn't care for their way of life. He cared even less so for the attitudes of many of these travelers. They looked down on his people, assuming them to be unintelligent, and trying to take advantage through unfair trades. Other times the caravans would be hostile outright. He understood fighting over food or even territory but to kill over gold and trinkets baffled him.
Gaar much preferred the natural, primal way of life his tribe followed, and though nature made no assumptions about his people it too could be cruel. At times food would be so scarce they would have to raid other tribes or travelers, not to mention the countless casualties of their hunts or violent storms. It was this same cruelty of nature that one day caused Gaar to leave the life and tribe he loved so dearly for his own path.
It was early winter, the fifth winter he and Maz were together. The days were getting shorter, the food ever scarcer, and morale was plummeting. The couple were two days west of the tribes campsite tracking down a doe and her fawn through a dense forest. Gaarek was leading the way doing the tracking but Maz had always been the better archer. In fact she was one of the tribes best hunters, one of the many reasons Gaar admired her in the first place. The sun was just beginning its descent as the hunters found their prey. The fawn was stopping to drink from a river while its mother stood beside it scanning the horizon. Maz tried to approach from downwind but the thick brush and river made it difficult. The deer caught her scent and bolted. In a far from favorable position Maz loosed an arrow and prayed it hit its mark.
Her orcish curse carried far through the forest sending birds and other smaller critters scattering in all directions. She aimed for the doe but fell the fawn. It was hardly large enough to feed them on the trip back to camp and certainly not large enough to help feed the tribe. The dejected hunters bagged their quarry and started their trek home. A couple hours passed and the sun had already sunk below the treeline. Gaar was hauling their supper and Maz was still grumbling about the escaped doe when she stopped and knocked an arrow. Gaar noticed soon after the young boar ahead of them in a small clearing. Desperate for food she took her time lining up the shot as Gaar froze trying not to breathe. The arrow loosed high over the boar with a wail from Maz. Gaar dropped everything and reeled around to see Maz impaled by a larger boar barely standing. Flying into a rage Gaar buried his maul in the beast's head cracking its tusk off but tearing Maz's wound wider. The beast would have made a for a fine feast but Gaar barely looked at it as it recovered from the blow ans sprinted off into the brush. Gaar's eyes were fixed on the damage he had done to the woman he loved. He apologized profusely as he attempted to bandage Maz while she drifted from consciousness.
He abandoned their quarry in a single minded rush back to camp carrying his wife. He ran straight through the night and the following day until exhaustion overcame him. Finally forced to stop by his aching body he took stock of the situation. It was already too late Maz had bled out in his arms. For hours he sat there holding her, weeping, and cursing himself for making things worse and not being able to save her. Whether he fell asleep or unconscious holding her there he didn't know, all he knew was he awoke blood and tears staining his clothes and body. Again he felt a rage consume him and he went back in search of the boar. A day passed and the only sign he found of the boar was the broken blood stained tusk. He had never felt so useless. He abandoned the fawn they killed, couldn't save his wife, and couldn't even avenge her. In a gut wrenching depression he returned to his wife's body and brought her home.
He struggled to explain what had happened on their hunt. He was filled with hate. Hate for the people of his tribe who blamed him, hate for the ones who treated him with compassion for he didn't deserve it. Most of all he hated himself. He felt like a burden to his tribe and family and undeserving of their love. So he buried his wife with them and that night left their campsite never to return.
Preferred game speed: Slow. 1-3 Posts a day, Monday through Friday. Saturday and Sunday my schedule opens up.
Physical Description:
• 27 year old half-orc
• 6 ft 6 inches tall, 240 lbs, muscular build
• Dark olive green skin
• Long wavy black hair tied back in a loose braid
• Yellow eyes
• Various scars on his body, few on his face
• Wears a grey wool tunic with fur trim, tan wool pants, tall leather boots
• Carries a large maul with Malar iconography etched in the handle
Backstory:
Gaarek was born to a simple tribe of hunter/gatherers. Mostly surrounded by other half-orcs he faced little prejudice and enjoyed his childhood in the wilds. He learned to hunt and track prey with his mother, learned how to defend himself and those he cared for with his father, and even met the love of his life Mazoga, whom he married.
He had few encounters with city folk travelling in their large caravans for safety. Their colorful tents, trinkets, and baubles would catch his eye but he didn't care for their way of life. He cared even less so for the attitudes of many of these travelers. They looked down on his people, assuming them to be unintelligent, and trying to take advantage through unfair trades. Other times the caravans would be hostile outright. He understood fighting over food or even territory but to kill over gold and trinkets baffled him.
Gaar much preferred the natural, primal way of life his tribe followed, and though nature made no assumptions about his people it too could be cruel. At times food would be so scarce they would have to raid other tribes or travelers, not to mention the countless casualties of their hunts or violent storms. It was this same cruelty of nature that one day caused Gaar to leave the life and tribe he loved so dearly for his own path.
It was early winter, the fifth winter he and Maz were together. The days were getting shorter, the food ever scarcer, and morale was plummeting. The couple were two days west of the tribes campsite tracking down a doe and her fawn through a dense forest. Gaarek was leading the way doing the tracking but Maz had always been the better archer. In fact she was one of the tribes best hunters, one of the many reasons Gaar admired her in the first place. The sun was just beginning its descent as the hunters found their prey. The fawn was stopping to drink from a river while its mother stood beside it scanning the horizon. Maz tried to approach from downwind but the thick brush and river made it difficult. The deer caught her scent and bolted. In a far from favorable position Maz loosed an arrow and prayed it hit its mark.
Her orcish curse carried far through the forest sending birds and other smaller critters scattering in all directions. She aimed for the doe but fell the fawn. It was hardly large enough to feed them on the trip back to camp and certainly not large enough to help feed the tribe. The dejected hunters bagged their quarry and started their trek home. A couple hours passed and the sun had already sunk below the treeline. Gaar was hauling their supper and Maz was still grumbling about the escaped doe when she stopped and knocked an arrow. Gaar noticed soon after the young boar ahead of them in a small clearing. Desperate for food she took her time lining up the shot as Gaar froze trying not to breathe. The arrow loosed high over the boar with a wail from Maz. Gaar dropped everything and reeled around to see Maz impaled by a larger boar barely standing. Flying into a rage Gaar buried his maul in the beast's head cracking its tusk off but tearing Maz's wound wider. The beast would have made a for a fine feast but Gaar barely looked at it as it recovered from the blow ans sprinted off into the brush. Gaar's eyes were fixed on the damage he had done to the woman he loved. He apologized profusely as he attempted to bandage Maz while she drifted from consciousness.
He abandoned their quarry in a single minded rush back to camp carrying his wife. He ran straight through the night and the following day until exhaustion overcame him. Finally forced to stop by his aching body he took stock of the situation. It was already too late Maz had bled out in his arms. For hours he sat there holding her, weeping, and cursing himself for making things worse and not being able to save her. Whether he fell asleep or unconscious holding her there he didn't know, all he knew was he awoke blood and tears staining his clothes and body. Again he felt a rage consume him and he went back in search of the boar. A day passed and the only sign he found of the boar was the broken blood stained tusk. He had never felt so useless. He abandoned the fawn they killed, couldn't save his wife, and couldn't even avenge her. In a gut wrenching depression he returned to his wife's body and brought her home.
He struggled to explain what had happened on their hunt. He was filled with hate. Hate for the people of his tribe who blamed him, hate for the ones who treated him with compassion for he didn't deserve it. Most of all he hated himself. He felt like a burden to his tribe and family and undeserving of their love. So he buried his wife with them and that night left their campsite never to return.
