Mok'Gromal
I don't have Microsoft word so I decided to use good 'ol useful oddworld forums to type up my D&D character's backstory.
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Well to start my story I will tell you how my parents met. My mother Orkala, a paladin of Lathander, was a member of the Order of Aster. She was traveling south to Waterdeep. My mother was escorting a small caravan that was carrying armor crafted from the shield dwarves of Mirabar. The armor was to be given to high ranking members of the City Watch, my mother admired them quite so. The caravan's escort was a small group consisting of a few members of the City Guard and disciples of Lathander. While they were traversing down the trading route, not long after the sun had fallen, they were attacked by Orcs. The Orcs seemingly appeared from the air and fell most of the escorts before the humans had a chance to regain their senses.
My father Grom Gol was leading a small raiding party of Orcs to attack a caravan that was said to carry good armor. My father was quick to accept a mission that would grant his tribe armor. There are always more Orcs then armor. My father had been told by his Warboss of the coming caravan, the number of humans guarding it, and where to ambush it. My father never discovered how his Warboss had learned of the caravan and its mission, but then again he never tried to find out. Grom Gol led his band, the Deathbringers, just southwest of Lurkwood and set up his ambush on the trading route. Once the caravan finally approached Grom Gol roared for his band to charge and they struck down the humans. The humans shook with fear as the Deathbringers descended upon escorts bringing what their band name suggested.
Though their were more Orcs before and after their initial strike Orkala did not lose heart. Wielding her famous blade she struck down her attackers one by one. Despite her efforts the Orcs ran off with the armor from Mirabar. When she tried to pursue them she was stopped by a true beast of an Orc, my father. Though Orkala was easily Grom Gol's better in battle skill wise the Orc's inhumane strength made up for it. The two of them exchanged blows throughout the night and into the morning. Eventually they came to the realization that no victory would be had here so my parents formed a truce. Truly they had no reason to fight on, the Orcs were long gone with the armor. Nothing would be gained in death.
Both exhausted they rested together. Each respecting the other as an experienced fighter. The two of them discussed the long battle they had shared against each other and how invigorating it was. Their conversation went on from their and they found each other to be quite enjoyable to talk to. Grom Gol was captivated by Orkala. Though she was a woman she could easily slay any of his band mates. Orkala found herself smitten by Grom Gol's proud demeanor. In her teachings she was taught to be wary of pride and yet she found it very attractive. The two of them were not romantics nor very emotional. The courtship that took place between the two of them was nothing but hilarious. Both of them too shy or proud to admit their feelings for one another. Yet eventually the two battle hardened soldiers were able to remove their armor and expose their true feelings. Thus I came to be.
We lived in the Spine of the World. We kept are distance from the Orcs further in. They probably wouldn't like to see Deathbringer Grom Gol who abandoned his clan, tribe, and band for just a human woman. My mother Orkala could never return to Waterdeep where she failed her mission and eloped with one of the Orc thiefs. Though my mother sometimes wonders if she had been set up. Why did they need so many guards for such a simple mission unless they knew Orcs were going to attack. Why wouldn't they have told her? And isn't it oddly convenient that they hire her of all people. My mother was often called Orc Killer back then as it's not a far off from her actual name and her many campaigns against Orcs. Her blade was a gift to her after many successful battles against Orcs, her blade was named after her as supposedly her name is synonymous with Orc Killer.
My father Grom Gol is a true symbol of a Orc fighter. His name is orcish for 'Giant Axe' which is his preferred weapon, though he is proficient in all items of war. My father is strong even as the years age him, it is clearly his strength that swings my blade. Strong as my father is his intelligence doesn't match. He named me Mok'Gromal which in orcish simply means Grom's son. As I was growing up my father would randomly attack me. He said it was to keep my senses sharp and to make sure I kept my body in good health... but most of the fights left me covered in bruises so even sitting caused me pain. He tried to teach me not to rely on any one weapon but to use them all. Unfortunately a new weapon always feels strange in my hand and find myself searching for my longsword. My father did, however, teach me to use my body to scare my foes. He preached that an enemy that sees my power will think twice before fighting me.
My mother Orkala, though a true follower of Lathander, found herself more at ease on the battlefield then in the church. She does her best to grow plants but she just doesn't seem to have the motherly touch to keep them growing. She grew up in Silverymoon and was sheltered from the real world. Idealistic and always optimistic she eventually became a member of the Order of Aster. Her first mission was a peace attempt with a near by Orc tribe. Though she had read much about Orcs she had never actually met one and was very surprised by their size and barbarianism. The diplomatic mission went horrible ending in the death of her mentor and she killed for the very first time. This shook her very character hardening her and practically destroying her optimism. Though the dream was weak she still wished that all of Faerûn could find peace and harmony.
Though I look more like my father I was always closer to my mother. It's her dexterity and skill in combat that guides my blade. She taught me to analyze my enemies and fight them with what I've learned. My father never really cared much for Lathander, but my mother told me countless stories about him and what he stands for. Though I may not look it I am quite the book worm. I read every piece of literature I can get my hands on. My mother gave me her need to pursue knowledge of all types. My mother also taught me a little of magic saying that I should understand it if I were to ever fight a caster. When ever I healed from a fight with my father my mother would want to spar. She would teach me how to get past my enemy's defenses without relying on pure strength . Whenever we finished sparing I would have more bruises then what my father normally left me with.
Like every child I was a curious little guy. I traveled as far as I could from home when ever my parents eyes strayed. I gained many injuries from climbing and falling off small cliffs, but I had my father's stubbornness and would not be balked. I made a crude map of what I had traveled and enjoyed adding details. Sometimes it would be animal nests I found or some strange plant I had bumped into. I also discovered where the Orcs were and made sure not to get to close. However that would not stop me from spying on them. I would watch the Orc warriors with awe wishing that I was out there with them showing off my skills.
When I reached the rebellious age I wanted nothing to do with my parents. For what ever reason I felt like they were holding me back... from what I don't know. I went to Mirabar believing I would find acceptance there. Upon arriving I was attacked by a human guard who had assumed I was an Orc that was part of a raiding party. I explained to him that I was a half-orc and had no want to attack anything. He told me that I was a beast that should be slain and that I had no place in Mirabar. Distraught I returned home, but said nothing of my trip to my parents wishing only to be left alone. What the guard had said tormented me for many nights and I started to think myself a useless beast.
Then one day I decided I would become the Orc he thought I was. I spent much time pushing myself to become stronger and stronger. From the perspective of my parents it appeard as if I was trying to kill myself. They tried to dissuade me from my training, but I would not be balked. Then one night without telling my parents I went to the Orc camp just north of my home. As strong as I was many of the Orcs thought me weak telling me to go home. When I told them I was the son of Grom Gol I got mixed results. Some immediately thought I was destined to be a warboss while others called me a bastard whelp of a cowardly traitor. None the less I was tested. I passed the test easily defeating my opponent who was Orc bigger and stronger then myself, but my fighting style invited many cruel jokes. They said I had no Orc blood in me at all and that I fought like an elf. All the Orcs began to call me Fairyboy. The insults of my fighting style were one thing, but when they insulted my mother I enraged and began attacking everyone around me. I was quickly stopped and beaten to a pulp though I was not worthy enough to be killed by them.
Hated by humans and scoffed by Orcs I felt like I didn't belong anywhere. I was too proud to return to my parent's embrace so instead I decided to strive for myself in the Spine of the World and Lurkwood. I spent years alone with almost no social interaction. From time to time I went to the port town of Luskan. It seemed all lost souls wandered there eventually.
(to be continued)
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