Thew'Ruk, Barbarian of Light

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Boutrose Saba-Norr
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Thew'Ruk, Barbarian of Light

#1

Post by Boutrose Saba-Norr » Sun Apr 22, 2018 6:16 pm

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Background Feature: Rustic Hospitality

Since you come from the ranks of the common folk, you fit in among them with ease. You can find a place to hide, rest, or recuperate among other commoners unless you have shown yourself to be a danger to them. They will shield you from the law or anyone else searching for you, though they will not risk their lives for you.

Personality Traits:
I judge people by their actions, not their words.

I’m confident in my own abilities and do what I can to instill confidence in others.

Story:
Thew’Ruk came from Ahsel, the land of overflowing honey. It was a lush and prosperous territory, on the edge of both an arid desert and a prosperous sea, and surrounded by a mountain range of dormant volcanos whose past eruptions made the topsoil exceptionally fertile. With maritime trade providing access to wealthy kingdoms across the sea, and caravan trade providing access to wealthy kingdoms across the desert, all combined with its own long growing season, it was for millennia a waypoint between many distant countries, and a nexus of trade where all the routes converged and wealth flowed freely for the rulers of the land.

Ahsel’s sheer potential for wealth was always something that made it a desirable target for invading Empires who sought that wealth for themselves, and for as long as people had lived there and cultivated the land it had been traded back and forth from one distant ruler or another, but these rulers were always distant faceless individuals who never interfered with the locals. They were foreign but they were not tyrants, and they realized that the best way to keep the territory profitable was to let the locals alone to carry on their business the same as they always had.

For their part, the people of Ahsel were not much bothered by this, having little concern for the designs of empires who sought only to control the land and never seeking to replace the people or subvert their culture, and as a result, they remained unaffected. With a population composed mostly of farmers and artisans who worked the land and what it produced to create life and art, they were not warlike and having had constant exposure to different peoples through both trade and foreign rule, they were no strangers to peoples of different cultures, and were always welcoming of them. This hospitality went to such a point that they even freely accepted refugees from lands less fortunate than their own, accepting them into their fold and helping them to become one with their own community.

Thew'Ruk's grandfather Druh’Maesh was such a refugee, having come to that land as a boy after his Orc band escaped a massacre in their home territory. They had been persecuted for having turned away from the worship and the teachings of Gruumsh. He came during a time of peace when the Empire at that time had been ruling for some time and had no one to oppose its rule. There the young Orc grew into a man, working the land as a farmer unlike any of his ancestors before him, and it was there that he met a young woman and began a family. He lived long enough to see his children grow into adults and to see Thew’Ruk grow into a young man, all the while the empire ruling over them became less stable. Soon a time came when the local magistrate was able to use instability to set themselves up as a tyrant dictator, but they lacked the foresight of the empires who came before them and began making unreadable demands upon the people, imposing restrictions upon them, and persecuting them intensely.

To the old dying Orc, it felt like the terror he had escaped in his old land had come to find him and his family in this new one, where he and his wife, and their children and grandchildren had worked the land, where they were the land, and where the land was them. Things came to a head when the Magistrate began seizing the farms and territories that families had been caring for for generations, and Druh’Maesh’s village was slated to be one of the first ones to be seized. Most of the villagers, including Thew’Ruk, were at a loss as to how they should react, they had never dealt with anything like this and only knew of it from the stories that some of the former refugees told them of their home countries. Ultimately deciding to avoid the conflict all together they voted collectively to leave the village before the Magistrates men arrived, but Druh’Maesh was not going to run away again, and taking from storage his families great sword he went to wait at the city gates for them to arrive. Thew’Ruk and several villagers attempted to force him to leave with them but he persisted and as the soldiers approached they all fled, with Thew’Ruk staying close by in hiding.

From his place of protection, he was able to see the soldiers approach, not even stopping for a moment, as they cut Druh’Maesh down with a single strike before advancing further. Fighting back an anguished howl Thew’Ruk fought back tears until the men were out of sight, and then ran to his grandfather's side, to find him barely clinging to life, with only enough life to look up at his grandson and say four words, “We are the land.”

Tears streaming down Thew’Ruk’s face, he picked up his grandfather’s greatsword and stood up, releasing the howl he had been holding in and without knowing what he was doing, he raged. He began what amounted almost to a slaughter of the poorly trained fighters trying to hold their own against a raging half-orc, and seeing his success the townspeople who were still within view joined him in his fight against them. When the fighting was over Thew’Ruk came to and realized what he had done, and knew that he would do it again, and again until the Magistrate was taken care of. He began a call to arms against the tyrant, and the people came flocking to him after they heard of his easy success against his soldiers. Soon it seemed like most of his people were rising up behind him in the fight against the tyrant magistrate, but then something happened. A figure, not connected to the Magistrate but still very much invested in his continued rule threatened Thew'Ruk, telling him that if he did not leave the territory then he would kill every person in it. The threat seemed genuine enough to him, although he could not understand why, and so meeting with some of his key lieutenants he found himself having to flee his home to protect it. Now he is a wandering folk hero, helping those that he can, and constantly searching for a means to overcome this mysterious figures threat and return to his homeland in order to end the tyrants rule once and for all.
Last edited by Boutrose Saba-Norr on Wed Nov 07, 2018 1:56 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Boutrose Saba-Norr
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Path of the Ancestors

#2

Post by Boutrose Saba-Norr » Fri May 11, 2018 3:28 am

As they ascend the steps out of what could only be described as a small part of the abyss, Thew’Ruk is comforted by seeing that sunlight is poking through the darkness and The Storm and Meddar’s donkey are unharmed. He sets the cleric Berks down on the ground and moves next to the war horse placing his head next to it’s and running his fingers through its mane.

“Good boy, you must have been scared out here by yourself, but you didn’t wander off”

The Storm nuzzles Thew’Ruk’s chest with his nose as a sign of affection and to indicate that he is looking for a treat, which he is then rewarded with in the form of a few sugar cubes that the Orc had bought along with the Warhorses feed.

Patting his head Thew’Ruk motions for the horse to stay put as he moves down to help with emptying out and then retrieving the cauldron after making sure that Oomaq and Guage had gotten Shor’Tay and Meddar to the surface. It was a disgusting mess as the blood spilt out everywhere, making the already ghastly scene appear even more so somehow. Thew’Ruk held back his urge to mix the contents of his stomach with the former contents of the artifact, and in the end he almost felt like he wouldn’t be able to.

Soon he emerged to the surface, carrying the cauldron with both hands and looking around for the zombie cart they had seen earlier in order to place it in there.

“Don’t bother going back down there boys, its disgusting and you’ll loose your lunch.”

After some searching he managed to locate the cart and hitch it up to the donkey after placing the cauldron in it, and Thew’Ruk could tell it made the animal uncomfortable.

After loading their unconscious friends into the cart as well, the three who were awake got ready to head back to Klaverjassen, with Thew’Ruk walking between The Storm and the donkey leading them both by the reigns. They talked little after what they had just experienced, all of them eager to get out of this artificial darkness and back to the city where they could be more assured of their safety. Thew’Ruk was however filled with a bit o hope after they began to approach the now receding edge of the false night and was about to comment on their accomplishment when he heard a spectral whisper in the back of his mind, “Theeeeeew’Ruuuuuk”

He turned quickly to see where it had come from, startling the horses slightly, but upon seeing that it was nothing he continued along the path. Soon, they reached the town gates and were ushered into a side entrance, where the cauldron was secreted into the temple out of sight from the townspeople. Once the Cauldron was out of his own sight the Orc heard the call again, “Theeeeeew’Ruuuuuk”

Looking around again and seeing no source for the sound Thew’Ruk puts his hand on his brow and look as feelings of anxiety wash over him, “Am I going mad? Did I survive all of this for nothing, Has the voice of the tyrant god finally found me?”

Thew’Ruk decided to keep what he was hearing to himself, hoping that a night of rest and taking the time to train The Storm would help him to recover from any maladies that he might currently be suffering from, but also because he worried that if anyone found out about his condition they would turn on him given the attitude many had towards orcs who hear the voices of their creator.




The next day came and Thew’Ruk felt refreshed and as if the worst of what he had been feeling had passed him by. He went out to the horse stables to retrieve The Storm and began grooming him in preparation for their training that day. While he was on his way to the training grounds, he walked past the temple and looked at it intently, considered whether he should check on Shor’Tay or the cleric Bersk. Deciding to try and see how they were doing later, he looked away from the structure and walked a few feet further from it before he heard the voice again, “Theeeeeew’Ruuuuuk”

It was a low moaning thing, wispy like the air and sounding like it had been brought along the breeze. Hearing it again sent a chill down Thew’Ruk’s Spine and he couldn’t focus for the rest of the day, seeming to waste the supplies that he used to train The Storm.
Spoiler:
Total: 11
Bonus: 4
Character: Thew’Ruk
Campaign: Temple
Description: animal handling to train The Storm
Thew’Ruk realized that this event wasn’t a temporary thing that would go away but would likely be a recurring issue until he could figure out what to do about it. That night when he met Shor’Tay in the tavern for drinks he confided in the Paladin about his situation.

Mulling over his beer for a moment the Paladin took a long drink before responding, “That is interesting, and you say it started as we were exiting the darkness.”

“Yes, that very moment is when it began.”

Shor’Tay took another drink, “Well it might not be a haunting then, if it were, the ghosts lily would have done something while we were still in that blasted miasma.”

Thew’Ruk nodded, “That was my thought as well,” then he paused for a moment before deciding to convey his fears to the halfling, “Honestly I have a feeling like the voice is trying to call me somewhere.”

“You are afraid that it might be the one you call the Tyrant God”

Thew’Ruk gave him a dark look, “Yes, but how did you know?”

Shor’tay took a while before answering, distracting himself by staring at one of the serving girls for an overly long period of time, “Well I am a man of the church and all that, I do know a bit about other religions and folk beliefs, and fears. You said that you heard the voice whenever you looked away from the temple, perhaps you could seek the aid of the gods in overcoming this ailment, I know we could provide you with a meditation room.”

Thew’Ruk began sketching something on a bar napkin, somewhat as a means to distract himself from the potential unpleasantness while he spoke, “Yes, but my god is a god of life and the wilderness, I don’t think I will be able to find them in a temple built within the city.”

“What will you do then”

Thew’Ruk downed his tankard before speaking and saw that Shor’Tay was not to be outdone and followed suit, “I will seek my gods where they live, I will leave the city for a time and go into the woods and hills to find them. Maybe then this voice will be quieted.”

“Could be dangerous, do you think you will make it back in time for the festival?”

“Well if I didn’t make sure if that who else would drink enough of the beer to keep you from drowning yourself in it,” They both let out a hearty laugh at the remark and then continued the rest of their meal in silence while Thew’Ruk continued his sketch. When he finished, he set his [writing instrument] down and looked at what he had finished.

Shor’Tay looked over from his side of the table and caught a glimpse of the picture, “Yikes, what is that? It looks menacing.”

Thew’Ruk held it up so that the Halfling could get a better look, “It is the mark of the spirit warrior. Used to be when a member of my clan would get to a certain point in their journeys as warriors they would take this mark. I remember some of them talking about how it bound the spirits of our ancestors to the warrior, but it was a long time again, and we set down our swords for plowshares when my grandfather was still a boy, so no one could ever tell me what that really entailed. It’s probably just superstition.”

“Well i’ll tell you, if i ver saw someone coming at me wearing something like that I’d believe that some ferocious ghost had come to get me,” they both laughed again, but Thew’Ruk stopped earlier than his companion.

“It’s funny, I had not thought about this in years, I’m surprised I can even remember what it looks like.”

————————————————————

The next day, early in the morning Thew’Ruk set out on the storm into the wilderness around the castle. He had left the drawing he made last night with Shor’Tay as a memento of their conversation and friendship, in case the worst might happen and he didn’t return. He had also left all of his gold with the Halfling as well, telling him to hold onto it for him incase he doesn’t return. When asked what he was supposed to do with it in that case the orc just shrugged and said to give it to the church then.

The traveling was uneventful for the most part, and he even stopped a few times when he thought he recognized some of the herbs that he and Meddar had collected earlier. He tried to replicate the results of their earlier gathering with some mixed results.
Spoiler:
Total: 13
Bonus: 4
Character: Thew’Ruk
Campaign: Temple
Description: Survival to find herbs

Total: 19
Bonus: 4
Character: Thew’Ruk
Campaign: Temple
Description: Survival to find herbs
Placing the herbs into his travel pack the Orc thought to himself that the monk would be able to make use of these ingredients.

He had been traveling for most of the day at this point, and he was already a full days ride from being able to return to the town. He didn’t realize it at the time but he had been traveling in a specific direction, away from both the old necropolis and from the city, as if he was being pulled there by something.

It was getting towards the end of the first day when he came across a small farm cottage. He was ragged but he had hoped that the people inside would give him comfort, food and a place to rest for the night even if it was just in the barn on some hay.

The occupants were an elderly couple and Thew’Ruk became worried that he might face some prejudice due to being a Half-Orc but they showed none of that and welcomed him in recognizing the signs of a common farmer on him despite his warriors attire. They shared their table with him, provided him with a place to rest, and showed him where he could place The Storm for the night. While they were out there Thew’Ruk looked around and saw that the couples cart was broken.

“This looks like it has been in better shape.”

The elderly man smiled, “Yes, well I’ve been in better shape too, I can’t handle all the repairs out here like I used to, and the city is too far without the cart to get repairs done there.”

Thew’Ruk gave it a look before walking over to The Storm and removing his carpentry tools from his travel pack, “Looks like a cracked axle, I can mend it, but it will be temporary, and you should accompany me back to Klaverhassen when I return to get it replaced.”

The couple were overly grateful and the work was finished quickly enough and soon they were eating dinner.

“I can’t tell you how grateful we are to you, The harvest festival is starting soon and I don’t know how we would have brought our crops to town without the cart working,” The elderly woman said while spooning ever increasing amounts of food onto the barbarian’s plate.

“It’s quite all right, us farmers have got to help each other out when we can.”

“Speaking of that, what are you doing way out here in the wilderness with us country farmers. You say you are one, and by the look of your hands I believe it, but you come to us from the direction of the city and you aren’t exactly dressed like a farmer, nor is that animal you rode on just some regular old plow horse. What’s your story my boy?”

Thew’Ruk didn’t take much prompting, he was already placed in a trusting demeanor by the couples hospitality and just the feeling of being back on a farm, and it wasn’t long before he shared his story, although a highly abbreviated version of it, with them.

“So your looking for a holy place right now are you dear,” the old woman asked him.

“Yes, I’ve felt called out in this direction for some reason, as if i’m supposed to be here.”

The old man chuckled and placed a hand on the Orc’s back, “Well no wonder, you wandered smack dab into one of the more holier places in the wilderness my boy, Just over the next hill there is a clearing, said to be clearing with a waterfall of pure spring water, surrounded by the largest trees you’ve ever seen. It’s sacred to the Druids in these parts, as well as worshipers of some wilderness gods, it might be a good place to go.”

Hearing his account Thew’Ruk looked out at the night sky and saw that it was almost a full harvest moon, and knew that he couldn’t wait until the morning. He thanked the couple for their hospitality and saddled up The storm, heading off to the clearing that very moment, and soon he was there. It was picturesque in its beauty, the crystal clear pool with barely a ripple on the calm night as moon beams broke through the canopy to strike the water and the grass, the sound of the waterfall being the only thing to break up the silence.

Thew’Ruk tied up The Storm and entered the clearing, kneeling by the pool, when the wind began to pick up.

————————————————————

The wind blew and a voice like the one before seemed to be carried on it, “This is not the life,” it said and then seemed to cut off by the same mysterious force that brought it to him.

Thew’Ruk, startled at the clarity of it was momentarily dumbfounded and just stared, almost in tears at the confirmation that his sanity was not slipping away. He soon recovered though and called out to voice, “Not the life? What do you mean? Show yourself!”

A gust of wind picked up again and with it the voice returned, “Not the life I chose.”

“Chose? For who? For yourself?”

The wind picked up more, almost as if a squall was happening in the the small clearing, rushing around and obscuring the point directly in front of Thew’Ruk. “No Thew’Ruk, not the life I chose for you.” The squall passed and in its place the luminescent form of spirit stood before him. He wore clothing like that in the stories his grandfather used to tell of their former homeland, and even looked like the old orc to a degree that made this young one uncomfortable. What was most discomforting however was that on his chest there was what appeared to be a tattoo of the spirit totem that he had shown Shor’Tay before he left the city.

“Who, Who are you spirit?”

“I know who I am Thew’Ruk! Can you say the same?”

The intensity of the spirits voice was overwhelming. What had until this moment been a whisper felt like the force of a great wind trying to push him over. “What do you mean, and what do you mean that this is not the life you chose for me?”

The Orc Spirit spat at Thew’Ruk’s feet, “Look at you, tell me Thew’Ruk how did you gain those muscles? Was it fighting for you life in the Orc pits or was it by tilling the land? Look at your body, no sign of injuries or scarification, no sign of a life better spent dead! I ask you again, do you even know who you are, Thew’Ruk, Man-son.”

The spirit had pushed too far and and Thew’Ruk’s eyes glowed rad as he entered a rage and ran to attack it, only to pass through its form. He snarled at the creature who taunted him, “I am Thew’Ruk of the land of Asal, Son of Der’Ruk, Son of Var’Ruk, Son of….”

The spirit cut him off before he could finish, pointing at the emblem on his chest which was the crest of his family, “Son of Dhar’Ruk, Orc-Son and tyrants bane, who lead his people, his family, out of Orc lands and into the Land of Asal so that they would not be warriors anymore, so that they would be farmers, carpenters, simple people who could escape from the war god! But here you are, Thew’Ruk, Farmer, Man-Son, pretend warrior going against everything I struggled for you to ha…”

“Enough,” Thew’Ruk bellowed out. Now was Dhar’Ruk’s turn to be silenced and Thew’Ruk made sure that he would be heard, “You say you wanted me to stay a farmer, but do you even know what caused me to take this path, do you know what was happening to our people in Asal, that a tyrant has found us there too?”

Dhar looked away, shame in his eyes, “I knew of it, the gods are cruel at times it seems, I tried to shield you from this.”

His anger not quieted by his elders shame, Thew’Ruk pressed the issue, “And where were you then great grandfather? The spirits of our fallen warriors are supposed to come and protect us in times like this. If you wanted to shield me from this path then where were you.”

“I was kept from you, held by the Tyrant God and prevented from seeing the path to you. Whatever that object that you encountered recently was, when you touched it, it was like a quake in the astral sea, and a great rift opened in my prison that allowed me to find my way to you, but it’s energy was evil and I could not find the light of the path until you were far enough away from it. Until now I have only been able to watch with sadness as I saw you forced down the same path I was, that I tried to save you from.”

Hearing his great-grandfather’s words the rage left him and as his eyes returned to their normal color the elder’s sadness washed over him. “I know this is not the path you would have wanted for me, but it is also not the path you were made to live. I am a farmer, and I am a warrior, but you were forced to fight for the Tyrant God’s pleasure, and I chose to fight to protect the people of our country.” Reaching out a hand to the spirit he continued, “You can choose to fight for the same reason now, join me Dhar’Ruk, Great-Grandfather, like the orc spirit warriors of old.”

The Orc took his descendants hand with his left and then lifted up his spectral sword in his right placing the point in the center of the young mans chest.

“Who are you Thew’Ruk”

“I am Thew’Ruk, Orc-Son, Farmer, And Tyrants Bane.”

“And who is the king of Tyrants that we must defeat”

“Gruumsh, the cruel and merciless.”

With that Dhar’Ruk plunged the blade into Thew’Ruk’s chest but instead of harming him it burned away the leather armor he had been wearing there and spread out on his skin in forming the mark of the Spirit totem on his chest, and the blade was drawn onto his skin as if it was pulled by a for of its own, so too was Dhar’Ruk.

When the process was finished Thew’Ruk looked up and saw a now empty clearing, where he kneeled on the ground by himself. “What if I can’t do it on my own?” he whispered to the empty space, only for the blue light of the spirit warriors at his side to answer him.

Looking up he saw a line of Orcs that seemed to stretch on forever, and at the head of the line was Dhar’Ruk, “You are never alone Thew’Ruk, your family will always fight with you now.”

The light faded along with the ancestors and Thew’Ruk stood up and walked to the edge of the clearing where The Storm had been waiting quietly for him. He mounted up and turned the horse, heading silently back in the direction of the city.

————————————————————

Thew’Ruk returned to the city the next day, the elderly couple in tow with the cart loaded with their produce for the harvest festival. They said goodbye to one another at the gate as the couple went off to get the cart’s axle replaced and to start getting ready for the market, and Thew’Ruk went to take The Storm to the stables.

Along the way he ran into Shortay who let out a whistle at the sight of the new tattoo that emblazoned the Orcs chest, “And here I thought I had a surprise for you.”

“What do you mean my friend, also you wouldn’t happen to have the money I left with you, I’m feeling famished?”

“Don’t worry about that, I’ve got you covered for food, also your money is gone.”

Thew’Ruk was taken aback, “Wait, what, what do you mean it is gone?”

Shor’Tay shrugged, “Just that, I remembered how you were asking for armor, and I had your design that you drew, so I figured it was about time to get you something substantial and ordered you a breast plate with the design on it.”

“Shor’Tay, I cannot afford a breast plate, and now I cannot afford anything else either for that matter.”

“Don’t worry about things like food and all that, I’ll take care of it, and think about it as being on lay away, It will take some time for the breast plate to be finished, and I’m sure you can come up with the money by then.

The Orc let out an audible groan, but then chucked and sighed, “Well, is it off to the tavern then?”

Shor’Tay smiled, “You read my mind.”

The rest of the week passed as usual, Thew’Ruk gave the herbs he found to the Meddar and continued with training The Storm each day, waiting with anticipation for th upcoming harvest festival, and also dreaming of the battles to come in his future, Including the ultimate battle that he would eventually face someday.
Spoiler:
Total: 23
Bonus: 4
Character: Thew’Ruk
Campaign: Temple
Description: animal handling to train The Storm

Total: 22
Bonus: 4
Character: Thew’Ruk
Campaign: Temple
Description: animal handling to train The Storm

Total: 11
Bonus: 4
Character: Thew’Ruk
Campaign: Temple
Description: animal handling to train The Storm

Total: 23
Bonus: 4
Character: Thew’Ruk
Campaign: Temple
Description: animal handling to train The Storm
Last edited by Boutrose Saba-Norr on Wed Nov 07, 2018 1:46 pm, edited 4 times in total.
Active: Thino Krist Vo Cari Thew'Ruk Turugh’aie’azanon
Inactive: Goran Hownar Edessa

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User avatar
Boutrose Saba-Norr
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Posts: 1868
Joined: Tue Jan 02, 2018 3:00 am

Current Gear

#3

Post by Boutrose Saba-Norr » Wed Oct 10, 2018 4:56 am

Spoiler:
Started game with 10 GP

Gained 411 CP each, 217 SP, and 48 GP and War Horse during Klaverjassen Arc

Received studded leather as a gift

Spent 40 Gp on training materials for War Horse, and 50 CP for feed for the war horse

Gained 770 CP, 430 SP, 16 GP, and Camelian Gem during The Darkness Arc

lost 2 out of 4 javelins

Studded leather Burned away by Dhar'Ruk

Used 5 days worth of training gear

110 coins spent on chest plate with a grim countenance on the front (The Storm is collateral)
Current Loot:
1 CP, 4 SP, 0 GP
1X Camelian Gem (50GP)
Great Sword
2x Javelin
Yklwa
Custom Chest Plate
Backpack
Bedroll
Common Clothes
Mess Kit
Iron Pot
50 ft hempen rope
shovel
Tinderbox
10x Torch
Wood Carvers tools
Waterskin
10 days of Rations
10 days of Feed for The Storm (50 CP)
Materials to train The Storm for 3 days (15 GP)
War Horse "The Storm"

Up to date as of 7/11/18
Last edited by Boutrose Saba-Norr on Wed Nov 07, 2018 1:42 pm, edited 3 times in total.
Active: Thino Krist Vo Cari Thew'Ruk Turugh’aie’azanon
Inactive: Goran Hownar Edessa

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Boutrose Saba-Norr
Flyboy
Posts: 1868
Joined: Tue Jan 02, 2018 3:00 am

Current HP

#4

Post by Boutrose Saba-Norr » Sun Oct 28, 2018 7:10 pm

Spoiler:
Took 3 damage

Returned to full health after the short test before descending into the dungeon

took 11 damage in the fall, bringing his health to 12hp

Attacked by bone naga reducing to 1 hp due to orc racial trait
Returned to full health over the course of downtime.

Up to date as of 28/10/2018
Last edited by Boutrose Saba-Norr on Wed Nov 07, 2018 1:08 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Active: Thino Krist Vo Cari Thew'Ruk Turugh’aie’azanon
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Boutrose Saba-Norr
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Posts: 1868
Joined: Tue Jan 02, 2018 3:00 am

Task Tracker

#5

Post by Boutrose Saba-Norr » Wed Nov 07, 2018 1:07 pm

Successfully trained The Storm 3/7 times

110/400 GP paid towards the price of Chest Plate

Up to date as of 7/11/18
Active: Thino Krist Vo Cari Thew'Ruk Turugh’aie’azanon
Inactive: Goran Hownar Edessa

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Boutrose Saba-Norr
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Posts: 1868
Joined: Tue Jan 02, 2018 3:00 am

Re: Thew'Ruk, Barbarian of Light

#6

Post by Boutrose Saba-Norr » Mon Dec 17, 2018 1:40 am

Thew'Ruk
Image "Enter dialogue here. Note that shorter dialogues will result in strange cell sizes, but the text will still be readable."
Active: Thino Krist Vo Cari Thew'Ruk Turugh’aie’azanon
Inactive: Goran Hownar Edessa

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