Ugluk
“Auril granting, I’ll stay cold until the day I die.” He hadn't heard the mischievous gibe she made--he was much too busy with donning layers of hardened leather. If one could read the life of another by simply their scars--the Half-Orc had the most of the bunch. The cruelties of savage repercussion was not his kin folk's alone. No. Mankind played an eager hand in his punishments. Despite what was rebuked about his 'package' it was his chest, arms and back that solicited a life of violence tending towards more self-sustained than garnered by the end of a smaller species than him.
In fact, most of the striations were long, focused and had been deliberately made. Most would be assuming that he was clawed in his tenacity to attack even the most daunting of nature's creature's. They would not expect them to be reminders of slavery. Given his sheer size, of a little over seven feet--even big for a common half-orc--they would not have known he was once quite docile and timid as a giant. But, as all things went the world was kind enough to make him realize that every day spent under the lash of whip was never going to change where he was in life. That things he wanted but was never smart enough to obtain either through knowledge or money-- he would take by force.
This path of self discovery led him to his idol. Tempus. What one could not protect, they had business having it in the first damn place. A rule of thumb he took to heart when he stopped being a pack-mule, a common slave. When he was tired of his fellow clan-mates sneering at him because they were full blooded human and he was only half a human being. This led to a remarkable confrontation, one that would shape the Barbarian's life. Where he stood erect after the lash of a whip and turned around. The reprisal was long awaited, the courage that filled him that day would make him feel all the pain inside over a lifetime amplified by the fact that he would never be 'good enough' for them. He would always be half an Uthgardt.
That day would not be like any other. They would know what an Uthgardt could do, even if he was only half. He killed his oppressor, yanked the whip that had so long been the bane of his own existence. Living each day scared of being struck. Living each day where his purpose and his only reward was not to be struck by it. When he felt the bones of the man's face breaking under the might of his own two hands, the fellow Uthgardt's screams he could not hearken for they were distant sounds, babbles of a brook compared to the raging of a river inside him. When all was said and done, blood had washed over him as though baptized by his Lord, Tempus.
When they demanded a trial by combat, customary for every Uthgardt--except him. The only reason he got it was the offended wanted it blood, his blood. They would not give him a weapon. So when the trial began, he tore the holy symbol of the Uthgardt out of the tree stump after a brief prayer to the deity, a feat that no one had been able to do prior. Heralded as Tempus's own axe. The Uthgardt had never seen the weapon,a fearsome notched axe in combat so they were ignorant to the fact that it ad an adamatine head. The first blow was all that was needed as it thwarted his challenger by splitting him in twain like a log.
The people were shocked and outraged. A murderer was to decisively win a battle? Was to live among them as equals? They called the axe enchanted, said it must have been tampered with the night before. How else would the savage know it would slay a brave warrior, one of their finest? Needless to say, he was exiled. Not for supposedly killing a man in a fit of rage or slaying their finest champion--no, he was banished because they believed him to be a liar and a cheat.
”Carry this, please? I hardly have the strength to carry around this carcass all day, and the Captain has disappeared with that bag of holding. ”
Of course, she was playing the damsel in distress. Yet, she was...pretty. Uglúk was fascinated by most of the more human females--the elves...they just seemed too frail. He was actually afraid that if he smacked one on the ass, it would break His strength disconcerting? Hah. The paladin too had caught his eye, he was ever so curious about her. Her rigidity of her faith was what was so profound about her. Most would have probably pointed out that she was probably as tall as a man--maybe even as stout. But that was not what Uglúk saw. He didn't even really consider her physical traits--her hair maybe, but that was really it. He was entranced by her despite her moral uprising.
The cleric? She was easy. Uglúk often thought if he lit a fire up under her ass she'd dance. She was so...cold though. ”And well, you’re just so large, I’m sure this little thing is nothing for you to throw around.” That was a nice touch. He thought that since she did go the extra mile, he could too. Granted, if she wanted anything else, she would have to extremely enticing. Firsts gifts were always free. " Yeah, yeah. " The Orc grunted, his nose not quite like everyone elses it was inset rather that protruding. With that, he grabbed the fur and folded over one shoulder. He scratched his scruffy chin, a bristling briar of coarse black hair.