Description

Credit to Rafsan

Full Name:Orogoth Krait

Nicknames/Aliases: While he never gives out his real name, only known to family and those he trusts most, he goes by under the alias: "Duma".

Age: 180

Gender: Male

Species: Half Orc-Half elf

Magic: None

Occupation: Former Architect/Teacher, Rebel Member

Description: Orogoth stands with his back slouched at the impressive height of 6'3 and the muscular body of his youthful days is now reduced to a toned, skinnier figure. His skin is a light brown, somewhat akin to mud, and is riddled with wrinkles, his face being the most prevalent. His face seems to be permanently twisted to a frown of disapproval, his eyes small and thin, and greying hair long to the center of his back. Orogoth normally doesn't wear much, just a torn-up tunic, a pair of leggings, and sandals. (He finds shoes rather uncomfortable nowadays.) In more formal occasions such as teaching and advising, he can be found wearing a white robe, though it'd be rare to see him wearing it otherwise.

Personality: Grumpy, rude, paranoid and intelligent. Orogoth isn't a very charismatic fellow but he can handle himself in a conversation between one or two people, not that any such conversation would give him any such joy, unless it's about teaching, which can be both frustrating and fulfilling. He prefers his own alone time, writing, encoding, decoding, blueprinting, making and dissecting. He believes himself to be mentally superior over others due to his old age and does his best to go about things in a logical and rational manner. Though at times he can be impatient, he's a realist, and fairly reasonable. He speaks in a rather frank, almost rude fashion, and at first glance, seems to have a chip on his shoulders at all times.

Especially in joining the rebellion, his paranoia of the magically inclined, already unreasonable, became even more unreasonable. With only the possible exception of healing magic, Orogoth is an anti-magite for the reason that people who can shoot fire out of their hands, trick others with visual imagery, raise the dead, and turn into vicious animals are, to be plain, dangerous. Skorn himself, for instance.

Skills:

Mathematics - Orogoth is quite knowledgeable in mathematics, from geometry, trigonometry, calculus and probability. Which allows him the opportunities:

Encoding/Decrypting - Communication is important and any important messages from the higher-ups in the King's army is bound to be encrypted, only known to the eyes of one man through mathematical encryption, to protect precious information from the eyes of enemies even if they were able to get their eyes on it. To decrypt these messages will prove vital to predicting the enemies' movements and exploiting them. The same goes like-wise for encryption, to encrypt messages so that even if the enemy manages to intercept them, they won't be able to read them.

Blueprinting - To properly interpret a blueprint drawing and create one's own schematics for either buildings, objects and devices.

And other skills such as:

Crafting - To physically create weapons from simple bows to siege weapons given the proper time and resources. Including his own, personal projects but without the skills of smithing. Goes hand in hand with blueprinting.

Trilingual - Speaks Orcish, Elvish, and Common.

Cooking - To make a good tasting meal with a few choice spices.

First Aid - Dressing and disinfecting wounds as well as home-made remedies.

Weaknesses:

Lack of Combat Skill - Despite being fit, albeit old, Orogoth has never really developed any skill with the sword or bow, despite the attempts of his Elven mother and Orcish father. Anyone with could easily bit of experience could easily best him.

Vulnerability to Disease - Self-explanatory

Anti-Magite - Tends to distrust anyone with magical ability, including...especially allies, unless they've proven otherwise in the eyes of Orogoth.

Brief History: Born as the love child between two from opposing tribes, elvish tree-huggers and orc brutes, the star-crossed lovers avoided double suicide and ran away to the kingdom of Magna, where they settled into a city and had five children: Meridan, Orogoth, Alinar, Imra, and Farisil. Orogoth himself didn't take to nature as much as his mother did, if given the chance, he'd destroy the forest and plan a large town. The father-son bonding wasn't any better, as he was disgusted by blood when he was little and well into adolescence.

While Meridan ended up as a shop owner, Alinar ended up being a mage, Imra and Farisil became mercenaries, Orogoth worked as a stone-layer. It was a simple life, laying stones and then heading to taverns, laying with woman and beer. One day, while working, he came across the architect of his company, a goblin named Grubeck. They became friends quickly, despite the fact that Grubeck was older, and later on, the goblin taught him mathematics and blueprinting before he passed away.

These skills became essential to Orogoth’s advancement to an architect and soon, he met with other architects and educated individuals, then the aristocrats.

Orogoth also got married at the time to an elvish woman, Kylie and continued to make three kids: Voniya, Thoran, Siya.

Neither his his wife, Kylie nor children: Voniya, Thoran, and Siva are with him now in the rebellion.

Other: Nope

So begins...

Orogoth "Duma" Krait's Story

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Setting

The Kingdom of Magna

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Character Portrait: Orogoth "Duma" Krait

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#2013-03-22 01:50:32, as written by Deallo

Orogoth was among the first awoken among the camp. Those days in which he indulged himself in alcohol, woke up the next morning with his head pounding and bed warm, were over but the fact remained that so many others were still so young and lively. Their very own leader was one such person and to what little observations he had after drinking a glass of beer before quickly retreating back to his small study/tent, sometime during the week, a rather boisterous, roaring drunk. It was good cause for celebration, the prince had been rescued, and no rebel casualties. Though it seemed everyone was in good cause for celebration except for Orogoth himself as it seemed he thought he was the only one who could see how the prince was in no shape of rule. Neither prince, for it's easy to disregard their physical wounds as to be healed by the matron of time, but not the wounds of their minds.

Those wounds are something not even the healing hands of magic can soothe over and there is only so much time the matron can spare.

In just the three months since "Duma" found the rebellion, he had his own fair share of contributions: the most recent of which was the drawing of a main floor plan with what sources and information the rebellion could gather. Although he himself had a blueprint of the castle, they were hastily drawn/copied in secret during his youth, the paper was spoiled, but bits and pieces were salvageable.

As the hunched half-orc sat on his small work-table, tending to a gauntlet with a ring, twine, and a sharp dagger, the scent of food had snaked it's way into his small, yet solitary tent. It was distracting him and with a sigh, he decided to leave his cozy tent, filled with blueprints, and stands of dead birds with their wings spread and left with his own custom crossbow in hand, the same one he slept with. It was half the size of a regular crossbow, light, had a magazine of four bolts on top and a lever which made for faster loading. What remained though, was that it was considerably weak, sometimes misfired, and with a good knock it could easily break. It was a prototype though so he kept a dagger just in case. Improvements would be made, things had to be done.

The air was nice and cold, Orogoth only too used to Magna's climate, dressed in only leggings and a dirty tunic with long sleeves. For his feet, they were wrapped in a thin cloth and placed into sandals, for what little warmth that can offer.

Although he could have just had at the stale pieces of bread he had saved up in his room, the taste and texture of actual cooked bread, with meat or eggs, became something of a luxury meal nowadays. Neira, passed him as he went to the fire, and he recounted how generally odd it was that the leaders of the rebellion were women save for that one guy. Back when he was still an architect, he had worked with high-ranking officers of the Magna military, generally in making their homes, and he observed that they were always male. Of course, Orogoth himself couldn't speak about military tactics, and he wasn't the one who rescued the heirs to the throne, so really it was a dead thought.

Still, there was something about Neira. Maybe it was just the contrast when put beside their lively leader, Tacita, but something was odd about her. Orogoth didn't trust her but then again, he didn't trust anyone.

In the midst of justifying his distrust, he walked into the body of one of the young rebels, just a slight taller then himself, his shoulder rubbing off of him. "Watch it." He instinctively growled before he even took a look at the man, noticing it before he continued to move before stopping, turning round his heel, and staring right at him. Three months in a small and steady group and it was in the first and a half before he get a general feel for everyone's faces.

Then again, he pulled this shit the day before the rebellion snuck into the castle, nerves as it was. In a way, it made sense that this was actually a spy, considering that throughout this whole week, they were at their least vigilant, celebrating.

Standing just about six feet away from the suspected intruder, Orogoth barked at him in both an english and quickly after an elvish tongue, slightly raising the small crossbow he held in one hand as he did so. The string wasn't pulled back but there was no way anyone but Duma knew thanks to its strange design that hid the bowstring from sight.

"Who are you?"
"Who are you?"

After those questions, his left hand had gone to his hip to check if he was missing anything, like an empty leather pouch. What can he say, old habits die hard, and after 170 years of checking his pockets everytime someone bumped into him in the city, the habit needed to be decapitated, quartered, gutted, asphyxiated and smothered before it can ever die.

Setting

The Kingdom of Magna

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#2013-03-22 03:01:55, as written by Celaradith

As the... whatever he was saw him and drew a bow, Axael raised his hands up quickly; palms facing outwards. "I'm not here to cause harm." He replied calmly, his gaze meeting that of the orc-looking male. "I smelt your food, and thought I could perhaps have some? I've not eaten in a few days." True or not, he was starving right now. "I was leaving the city, it's too messy there right now."

Setting

The Kingdom of Magna

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#2013-03-26 22:33:22, as written by DreamerOnTheStars

Lucine

A child glared at her father with dangerous intentions, whispering words of hate and disgust. Though the man, or what seemed close to a man, merely turned around and left her alone. "Your useless." He simple said, as if it was a fact. And sadly, she was about to believe that. But her hate for him was not going to allow it. 'Your better.' She tells herself repeatably, hoping to keep her sanity. 'Your better then him" It was a nightmare though.. But she saw it as reality..and before she ran off, a stabbing pain filled her chest, then she scr-

"I'm not here to cause harm."
Blue eyes fluttered open as an unfamiliar voice was heard nearby the tree she was resting on. And so quietly, she leaned forward from her laying position on the branch and took a small scan on what was happening. Oh what was this?

'Interesting. It seems that we attracted a rat..'

A stranger. Something that is disliked by many here she noticed, seeing how when she arrived in the past .. it didnt end too well.
However he seemed harmless, nor did he seem to have too much of a bad intention... She should Still take responsibility by she leaping down, and cutting his throat... but she wasn't in the mood for it..
But then again...as much as she didn't want to catch attention, she wouldn't go back to sleep anyways, so why not? Seems.. "fun." So, slipping down from the branch, she landed near them, her steps almost mute.

"He's harmless." She said towards the half orc, with a musing smirk. "So no need to waste your skills." Arrogant as ever. But she looked at the orc with serious eye. 'Keep your guard up.' This man, still was a stranger- and an intruder, so cautions of course needed to be taken.

Dusting off the non-existing dust off her clock, she pulled down her hood to reveal long dark hair and bright blue eyes, that seemed to stare straight into the strangers soul. But there was nothing to see. Not with the little info and disguised appearance. Though the idea of him coming near for just food was giving her an idea. 'maybe he is looking for even more.'
now, Would she or any of the others give it to him? Well, maybe but for the rest, she wasent sure. She assumed it would matter about his alliances, background. Does he hate Skorn as well, or is he those people who remain mutual, or too cowardly to join the rebellion, afraid of death? A thief perhaps? It would be funny if he was seeing how his lines of "I'm not here to cause harm.", and such seemed almost too unoriginal and cliche, though she didn't detect a lie...
What would Duma think?
Hopefully he would take the situation with less anger then he usually does in most events. It came questioning, however that someone would come toward a large camp for food, and at times like this? Food seemingly was growing more scarce, and times were goig rough. It was dangerous just to approach a group like this- well if you were innocent like this man supposedly claims. 'Maybe he is stupid or just desperate..'

[short and messy, but it was quickly made ><]

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The Kingdom of Magna

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#2013-03-27 00:58:50, as written by Deallo

"I'm not here to cause harm."

"And that's exactly what a rotten spy would say!" Duma thought immediately before flaring his nostrils and disbelieving every word he said. For all he knew, the figure before him could have been a blasted illusion, and a patsy meant to distract him.

"Is that so?" The half-orc said in a voice almost patronizing and dripping with disbelief, the crossbow in his hands unwavering in their position, almost as if to coax the man out. The words behind the old man made him jump and turn in the direction of the voice, pulling the trigger of the empty crossbow just before he could recognize the short Lucine. His surprised face quickly turned into an angry scowl at the sight of the Necromancer's daughter and pulled the lever back to actually load the crossbow with one of four bolts in the magazine.

"So no need to waste your skills."

Duma would have told her to run off and find some lives to ruin if it wasn't for the fact that there wasn't a more important intruder right in front of him. Even with that serious look in her eye, the sort allies would give to one-another, the half-orc didn't trust her, especially her.

"Stop sneaking up on people!" He shouted at her in his guttural voice before turning back to the red-haired intruder, crossbow still in hand, probably about to regret letting the man walk but first things first:

He needed to check if their intruder was an illusion.

"Hands behind your head. Try anything funny and a bolt goes in between your teeth." Duma would walk closer with the crossbow at the ready and pat the stranger down. By Orogoth's logic, an illusionist could either make an illusion that wasn't physically tangible, or an illusion that is. If an illusion was physical, an illusion would be either be imperfect or too perfect.

The illusionist is like a clay modeller. Either he gets the dimensions of the body wrong, or he gets it too right, and the body is running on borderline perfection without a spot or blemish, unlike regular people. Save for the exceptions when aristocrats would powder their faces and their shoulders whenever they would go out to look spotless themselves, Orogoth doubted anyone would be powdering their faces nowadays, for the ball of the dead perhaps.

Orogoth's face was staring straight into the red-haired man while he patted him down with one hand, while the other still held the crossbow now pressed up against the man's chest. If Axael did nothing, Orogoth would have taken whatever he had around his belt, before going behind the man to give him instructions, noting beforehand the odd almost disfigured shape of one of his ears behind the hood.

"Food tent's over there. Start walking." Duma said, pointing to the area, and nudging the stranger at the same time to make him go forward. "You touch anyone, breath to anyone, talk to anyone, I'll shoot you. If there is an earthquake, someone chokes, or fall and crack their skull open, I'm blaming you. Now get going, you knife-eared begger."

Setting

The Kingdom of Magna

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#2013-03-29 01:51:19, as written by fueledbymadness

ELLIOT RAE

Rae turned to see Kri sit beside her, a few moments passing before she spoke. "Um," she began, "Rae, right? I need some help with this problem I've been having... How much do you know about dreams?"

Quickly running through her mind, Rae couldn't think of having learned anything in her healing studies that had to do with dreams. After all, it wasn't a physical injury; there couldn't be much a healer could do. "Not much," she finally replied. "Why?"

CARSON RAE

"I'm telling you, it's true!" Carson laughed loudly at his friend's proclamation of honesty; no way he took on that many dead. But he appreciated the story, even if the truth was stretched a bit - it made them laugh, and feel a bit closer. And that can go a long way when you need to rely on them in battle.

"I'll believe it when I see it," he replied simply, playfully punching the fellow rebel in the shoulder.

"You touch anyone, breath to anyone, talk to anyone, I'll shoot you. If there is an earthquake, someone chokes, or fall and crack their skull open, I'm blaming you. Now get going, you knife-eared begger." Carson turned as he heard this, wondering what was going on. He saw Duma and...who was that?

"Hey!" He walked towards them quickly. "What is this? Who is he?"

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