Post/Author/DateTime	Post
#1 zombiegleemax Aug 13, 2003 21:42:03	Hi, our DM recently asked the players to consider writing up backgrounds for extra XPs so that we could flesh out the concepts of how our races and classes shape our characters. I submitted mine, an attempt to enrich the understanding of being an orc (my case a 1/2 orc) past the 2-dimensional brute monster. The result was praised by our group, so on the chance someone else may enjoy reading about orcs as more than axe-wielding experience-point pinhatas, I thought that maybe it would be good (or at least entertaining) to post it. 1)-answered the DM's question about the character, a half-orc barbarian/cleric named Broog 2)-answered my chintsy DM's later, more specific question about Broog's parents, used to make a brief article on the nature of lesser orcish clans. 1)The life of the orc is a struggle against a world which does not want him in it, a world which therefore must be taught to adapt to the orc’s presence, through war, fecund breeding, occupation and expansion of the orcish empire. This is what orcs believe of themselves. These values are engrained in the story of the argument between their mighty god and the weaker, hateful gods of the other races. Since their placement on the prime material plane, orcs have been imparted divine communication with their god during moments of struggle. In many of the orcish tribes, it is believed that only in the moments of greatest pain does communication open directly to their god, who was himself denied by the other gods a chance to place his beloved great people in the world. The consequent actions Gruumsh set as an example to his people – seizing what he knew to be rightfully his – continues to permeate the psyche and culture of every mortal orc, stirring pride and a morally justifiable hatred of all who seek the dissolution and scattering of Gruumsh’s children. All sacrifices for orcish prosperity are therefore holy and glorious sacraments, worthy of the lineage. Understanding this, it is a popular notion among shamans and tribal protectors that the moment of childbirth is a great and holy time of prophecy. The time of childbirth offers much struggle and strife as the fierce new spirit struggles to enter the world, against the wishes of its deliverer (the mother.) Shouts and protests herald its entrance during the very painful labor and often – the clerics, chiefs, and shamans believe – the mother will call it by its eternal name, or Gruumsh himself will, through the host, dictate the child’s destined name and perhaps some indication of the child’s future traits or achievements. Thus every grunt, howl, and curse becomes like a minor divination to be considered by those present. When childbearing orc mothers summon their weapons, presumably to beat their impregnators for their predicament, orcs get named such as well (explaining the trend of weapons sometimes being included in the names of orcs.) Broog was such a child, with a fiercely strong and ugly human father, and a reasonably strong orcish mother. When he was born he was shot straight out of the womb and across the tent on a slippery slide of placenta and hay. Because of this the tribal protector prophesied that this orc would be destined to travel far from home, and would distance himself from his people. When the sleepy-eyed tribal protector went to pick up the screaming child to raise him up in the tent and thus facilitate the popular rite that he would be raised up on his fame to the glory of Gruumsh, the tribal protector instead slipped on the placenta now spurted liberally about the tent floor, crashing and breaking a rib, but preserving the baby who stopped crying. Because of this it was prophesied that so mighty would this orc become, that no one could be his worthy aide. He would have to stand independent in all matters until his death, but he would command the attention of great leaders throughout his whole life. Through Broog’s training as a toddler and child, he was taught to pick one weapon and learn it perfectly, and that the religious and arcane practitioners would orbit around the might of his weapon. He was taught that this was the way the world worked. When he was still too young to join the adult orc warriors, however, he once snuck through the woods on a long journey to follow the men of his tribe to a large battlefield. There he witnessed the events that would shape the rest of his life. Two forces stood facing each other from opposing ends of a battlefield, each leader shouting and posturing to the other. The warriors of Broog’s tribe hid in the woods beside the field and were supposed to wait for a cue from their tribal allies, and then come charging down the hill and flank the enemy. However, Broog the child then saw his adult warriors instead betray their alliance as the two forces met on the battlefield, and when the enemy won at heavy costs, destroying the allies, Broog’s tribe then came out of the woods and slaughtered them and afterward picked weapons and treasure from the bodies of both armies for the rest of the night. He learned at that very tender age that weapon mastery had no comparable power to the ability to effectively control and manoeuvre men in battle. He never forgot this lesson and as soon as his tutelage made him advanced enough to become a shaman, he immediately went on a quest to find the greatest military tactician he could find to show him how to become what the humans called ‘a great Djeh-nerl’ (a great General.) 2) Broog’s father was described as ugly because that is the only kind of human male who would be desperate enough to mate with a female orc. Consequently it takes a very special human male to find breeding desirable in a female orc. Broog’s father Djhrlzz (the orcish adaptation of his human name) was not so much ugly (Charisma 8) as he was stigmatized by his unusually large feet, which were generally viewed as a sign of ignobility in the culture of the particular humans from which he originated. Because his feet were so very large, much ridicule was suffered, resulting in (not a totally self-imposed) exile and his curious acceptance by an orcish tribe which was almost depleted of able-bodied males at the time. Understandably, Djhrlzz is also a bit of a misanthrope, preferring the seclusion and company of his adopted clan. Broog’s father and mother were assigned to one another by the chief, specifically to produce offspring. No romance was involved. Their consummation was ministered and regulated by the chief as well, present in the tent at the time with a hickory stick and a slat of wood for coaching. The chief also wanted the human to impregnate the other neglected orc females, believing his enormous brute strength and size would bring fortune to the clan, but his decision was usurped by the clan on the basis of racial purity. Broog’s mother Khhaang was one of a countless litter of females, all whom were assigned mates before her. If not for the arrival of the ‘pale’ one, she would certainly have produced no offspring. Because of the common experience of neglect among orc females, she – like many orc females who are not first-born, or noble, or otherwise special – is characterized as a very silent, underspoken female orc, partially skilled at various domestic tasks. Broog’s parents are unskilled laborers which in this time and world means that they are skilled at several tasks, but are not recognized as specialists in any area. For example, Djhrlzz has done limited blacksmithing and some crude armoury work, but he can not be considered a blacksmith or armourer because of the lack of training and the relatively little time he has devoted to the craft. He has done some hunting, foraging, landscaping, and even some work as a warrior but none of these are his craft either. The orcish culture teaches him, Khaang, and all clan members that the sum of these jobs is what it means to be called a member of the clan. The orcish warrior is therefore a very special station since (s)he is distinguished by such a title from all others in the group who function equally as warriors, but do not enjoy the benefits of such a title. As orc tribes conquer one another, expand, disappear, migrate or splinter, enslave or become enslaved, there are many untold stories about political topplings, and abandonment of gods for other gods. Most adventurers only hear about the success stories (e.g. the clan of the black fist, or the clan of the bloody axe, or the tribe of the elven skull cleft in twain) but there are many surviving lesser tribes which, although not annihilated or absorbed into other tribes, nonetheless by various circumstances change their clan names, their gods, their chiefs regularly. Among these weaker free tribes, clan names change often depending on whether the tribe in question is on the run or on the prowl for conquest. The clan which produced Broog is such a clan. Under the leadership of Tribal protector-turned-chief Qwlekrh, a new god has been picked four times in Broog’s lifetime, and the banner for the tribe has changed so often that no one bothers to keep the design updated anymore. Consequently banners are kept more as mementos of past glories rather than emblems of any real enduring philosophy or moral focus. Anyone who asks Broog which clan he descends from will be told the Tribal protector’s name. The quiet understanding among greater orcish tribes is that a great orcish tribe is titled by its god or by its most famous feat or trait, not by the name of its chief. This circumstance clarifies questions about Broog’s pedigree and station if his past is delved into. Broog snarls at such intrusions, and rightly so for he too knows what makes great orcish tribes. Orcs do not, in general, make good rearers of children. As individuals, they tend to shun responsibility for their kin, claiming ties only at moments of achievement. Orcs tend to be raised by the whole clan/tribe/village (i.e. everybody and yet nobody in particular.) A typical orcish childhood in Broog’s clan is characterized after the initial nursing period by a futile prolonged search for one-on-one bonding, followed by a transfer of developmental needs onto the whole tribe itself, strengthening the value of the clan, with the child eventually learning to have his/her developmental needs met by any one in the clan. The specialness of a relationship with a single mother and a single father is an alien idea to an orc. Broog’s parents reinforce the model.
#2 zombiegleemax Aug 19, 2003 1:09:28	Originally posted by emfs2327 The life of the orc is a struggle against a world which does not want him in it...[/b] At least this is what the accursed Alvaeni want you to think... In our homebrew setting, the Orken (Orcs, Kobolds, Bugbears) races live in the far reaches to the northwest, in frozen wasteland ruled by the cold hearted Queen of Frost, Hoarthuin. Here, the Orken struggle to survive in their nomadic tribes. The winters are harsh and most dwellings do not survive the crush of ice. New, but ramshackle, homes are built when the Season of Solace smiles down upon Terra and the Ice Witch sleeps. Here in the Untamed Reaches (so-called by the Alvaeni and Heumani) the Tinderbrush, Chegriach, and Zokt'Tam nations survive; but they do no thrive in this barren wasteland. The Chegriach Nation is formed of mostly Khab'bald, the smallest of the Orken races. Comprised of the Tarl, Charn, and Freshin tribes, these weakest Orken scrape their meager existence from the most barren lands in the northwest. The Zokt'Tam Nation, largest but not the brightest of the Orken people, known in their native tongue as the Bug'hbaerie, have formed two warring tribes called the Choktowe and the Norkuz. The Choktowe are a hill dwelling people who build clay huts from straw and mud that are both plentiful along the Greystone Peaks in early Solace. They have been warring with the Norkuz tribe for a generation. The Norkuz have claimed the mountains as their own and only permit the Choktowe to take a very limited harvest of the mountain goats that dwell there. Norkuz are cave dwellers, and are one of the few Orken groups that keep semi-permanent homes--at least until the Snow Dragons force them to move. To the east and bordering Thelarius, land of the Alvaeni, dwell the Wachutesae and D'Gor tribes of the Tinderbrush Nation. These Orken, known by all as simply Orks, are the Orken first line of defense against incursions from the Alvaeni and Heumani lands to the East and South. The Orks are the most nomadic of all the Orken people and while they live in a slightly warmer climate, far from the Ice Queen, there is very little growth to sustain them in these badlands. The Orks must rely on foraging and nighttime raids, stealing grains, fruits, and even cattle to sustain the Nation's children. A harsh existence here in the Untamed Reaches has made the Orken a harsh people. Barbaric in the extreme, and seemingly possessing no values, these horrid creatures are the bane of the Alvaeni who live in the vast forests of Thelarius--that great land of all good and living things. It is to this home of the Elves that the Orks come on their secret raids, stealing and plundering. An alliance between the Heuman lands of Garreval and the Alvaeni lands of Thelarius has helped ebb the tide of Orken incursions into the "civilized areas." Each day, say the Elves, more and more of the Alvaeni homeland is lost to the barbaric Orken. ..... But it was not always so. The heumans are a young race, having been on this continent no more than 500 years. The Alvaeni have been here longer than anyone. Except the Orken. You see, only a very few Alvaeni know the truth about Thelarius. But the Orken know. The Thelarian Alvaeni are not native to the vast forests of Thelarius. No, in fact, the Thelarian Elves are merely cousins of the Alvenfordian Elves who live in the Oakheart south of Gradimoth Bog. Four thousand years ago, a political upheaval in Alvenford resulted in a mass exodus of Alvaeni who left the Oakheart in search of new lands. They travelled north. They crossed the open plains that would, in 3,500 years, become the heuman lands of Garrevel. They crossed into a vast forest near the Greystone Peaks, at the foot of Old Stonetusk, and they named it Thelarius. And there, the Alvaeni slaughtered and drove out from their homes our poor, miserable Orken. For in the lands where the Alvaeni dwell, those who know the truth can still find the graveyards of the Orken. Those who have learned the truth from the select few Elves that know it, can find the bones in mass graves. Thelarius is not Alvaeni land. It is the ancestral land of the Orken. It is THEIR rightful place. In this world, it is the Elves who have encroached upon the land of the Orken. But they have kept this hidden from the Heumans for millennia, and even most Elves don't even know the truth. But in a cold damp cave in the Untamed Reaches, Chugnyiak, a young Ork who's belly has been swollen with malnutrition since birth, listens as his mother tells him a story... He's heard the story before. But he listens, transfixed, as if hearing it for the first time. "Chugnyiak. Listen to the tale our forefathers taught us. We were cast from our homes and cast from our lands. The cursed Alvaeni have destroyed our places most sacred. But some day, a champion will rise up out of the Tinderbrush Nation. A champion of honor and truth. He will shed light on the lies of the Elves. He will lead us back to our lands. We will conquer and take back what is ours. And we will dwell, forevermore, in the lands of our ancestors." "Until then, my son, we must suffer. Until then, my son, we must survive." "Even so, we are hopeful that our champion will arise today out of the Tinderbrush Nation. So be it."
#3 zombiegleemax Sep 12, 2003 18:03:58	Wow, these are both great intros to a character (one more for a character than a prologue to a book!). I never really stopped to think about orcs in such a regard before. Its humbling really to think that the Humans don't even care whats going on. Oh well... Orcs would well understand the HUMAN idea of survival of the fittest, but it takes the fit to survive. Orcs may be strong and "fruitful of the loins", but they don't have the capacity to do what it takes to survive in the world of man. It takes the special someone from there tribes to survive here in the savage world of mankind. Muhahahaha