Character profile


Character Picture
39 years
5. Mas 19 AW

Currently offline

Description of the character


The unpolished edges are gone, before you is an unmistakably trained killer. Whatever physical deficiencies he had in years past have been replaced with solid athletic muscle and a wide straight back. His eyes are sharp clouds of putrid yellow. They miss nothing although in conversation there is often confusion and angst muddled in his expressions. His skin is smooth mossy green despite a few trace scars that line his face. The two budding tusks have grown in thickness accentuating his prevalent underbite.

It is rare to see Kraex without armor especially outside the walls of Cadomyr. His armament from head to toe has flawless craftsmanship and form. Truly only a high lord could fetch its worth and when polished not even the Queen's knights can rival. Amongst the encrusted gems around the edges of his noble armor a bloody red skull embossed on a black shield sets upon his left breast plate. By the looks one could assume this is his coat of arms.

Accenting his often battle-worn armor are various studded leather straps, sheathes, belts, and pouches. Depending on when you see Kraex a variety of weapons, potions, and battle equipment can be seen in them. Ever present, however, looped on a cast silver ring mounted to the fauld of his armor rests a glorious axe.

The axe is most definitely magical as it shimmers an unnaturally dazzling sky blue color. Only someone with a knowing eyes could see the irony to this axe. It is inherently of dwarven design but whoever crafted it did a marvelous job of trying to cover this fact up. Instead of a smooth rounded butt the axe has sharp jagged barbs. Also, the bit of the axe is more square than your typical magical dwarven axe. Further disguising its nature braids of hair and strips of leather studded with teeth are fastened to holes on the eye of the axe. As one would expect from an orc the axe looks exceedingly crude.

Gobaith Days

Kraex'Ju is distortedly overgrown for an orc of any age, but his genuine lack of girth and bulk gives him an awkward appearance amongst his race. Built more like a scout than a foot-soldier his frame is wiry with slouched shoulders that slightly dwarfs his natural height. Even for an outsider the callow signs of youth should be easy to discern. Namely, he doesn't bolster the typical pride and gasconade attitude commonly associated with the sons of blood and bone. Past that, his tusks barely bud over his bottom lip, his olive dab skin is far too smooth and unblemished, and his yellow eyes lack a certain focus that most seasoned orc warriors have.

Despite not having a soldier's build Kraex can always be seen in some form of armor fastened with various weapons, typically swords. A few may recall the state in which he arrived on Gobaith with bloodstained chain mail, soiled bandages, and a makeshift crutch to support his debilitated leg. Since then he has been able to pitch the crutch, and with the coming of each new day his limp lessens. Also, thanks to a fellow orcish brother, Skull'Fed, his armor and weapons have improved from rust to secondhand wear.


Story of the character

::::::::/\::)~\::: >>--Brief History-->

Kraex'Ju came to Gobaith battered and wounded as some may recall, but his spirits were high as soon as his leather boots met the land of his destiny. Sadly, the destiny he had in mind was short lived when a fellow brother, Rok, told him that Prince Anarius of Lonewood was long since dead. Although he did not show it to his blood brother the news was difficult to process. After all he'd endured and witnessed to simply hear that the Anarius was killed by someone other than him vexed the young orc.

For ten long years he'd envisioned driving a sword through the heart of Anarius for bring about the destruction of his former clan, and to have that vindication robbed from him was disconcerting at best. Like any true believer though, he felt the Father must have a greater purpose. After speaking with Rok more and seeing the Great Hall of the Dar'krest clan, Kraex was soon convinced that his purpose was to serve the Father here on Gobaith. His conviction was reaffirmed when he met with the chief of Dar'krest, Murgo, and witnessed his prowess in battle and leadership qualities.

Now with a clear goal set the only thing Kraex had to do was gain the respect of two clan members. The first wasn't incredibly difficult since the former chief of the Dar'krest clan, Rok, was a cunning strategist and only needed Kraex to play a minor role to trick and rob an elf. The task chief Murgo gave him, however, would prove to be more difficult since he'd not fully recovered from some previous injuries. Murgo wanted two troll horns, and until Kraex had rehabilitated his body such a task would be exceedingly perilous.

Determined to show his worth Kraex has taken his recovery seriously, and with laborious effort he has pushed past his initial frailty. Although his vigor has not been fully restored he has been able to train and hunt. Soon he will complete the chief's task and join his brothers and sisters of the Dar'krest clan. After that only the Father knows what will become of this orc.

=={Born of War>

Kraex'Ju came into this world beneath the fire and chaos of war and strife. Though his mother, Shaekara'Nu, bore ten mighty sons before him, two in fact warlords, she could not bear the eleventh and passed on to the Father. Deemed as a runt by Chief Xrux'Nu the infant orc was sent to the crafters sect of the clan called Ju and given the name Kraex by his disappointed father, Voorg'Nu. Although it was not disgraceful for an orc of the Blackfist clan to be tagged with Ju at the end of his or her name it was highly uncommon for pureblood warriors to bear a child to another sect.

Nevertheless, tradition was never broken even in times of war -which for the Blackfist clan was almost constantly. At the time of Kraex's birth the horde was engaged in a war with the mighty army of Salkamar near the eastern shore of the Erin Sea. Prior to the Blood Month the orcs found themselves being outmaneuvered by the superior tactics of the Salk brigade, but during Mas the orcs rallied and forced their encroaching adversaries to withdraw their main forces. Skirmishes continued to break out here and there over the next few years, but nothing major occurred until Kraex was about three.

During the month of Malas in the year 22 the Salk army returned to orcish lands, this time bent on exterminating the Blackfist clan and demolishing their fortress of Ghir-Ann-Mar. Orcen scouts confirmed that the Salk force was too large for the Blackfist clan to handle alone so riders were sent out to call for reinforcements from the orcish lands far to the south. Knowing it would take some time for a horde to respond and arrive the fearless Xrux'Nu mobilized his troops to stop the Salk advance.

Well aware that a frontal assault wouldn't bode well the chief had his shaman, Muk-Tuk'Ur, summon a vast sand storm from the Kharm Desert and a dense fog from the Erin Sea. Unable to tell where the orcs would assault from the Salk brigade could not devise a proper counter-attack. With the element of surprise Kraex's father, Voorg'Nu, and his horde charged into the Salk's southern flank. Then before the humans could secure their western flank properly Xrux'Nu and his mighty horde charged right through the fog and slammed into the unsuspecting Salks. By the time the dust and fog dissipated the Salkamaerian forward guard was decimated leaving their moral low.

Unfortunately, victories such as that were scarce as the war pushed through year one. While both sides took heavy loses the Salks still had the advantage in numbers and were starting to flex their will. Forced to retreat with each battle the orcs left a stain of blood across the entire land all the way back up to their keep. From there Xrux'Nu knew it would only be a matter of time before the Salks overwhelmed them if reinforcements did not arrive. Even being at the age of four Kraex can still remember parts of his chief's fervent message about never surrendering and paying back your blood to the Father.

The other words he remembers is the pompous decree of Prince Anarius who said that if Chief Xrux'Nu's head was tossed over the wall he'd spare the rest of the clan. This of course incited a rage amongst the clan, and Xrux'Nu prepared the rest of his horde to attack before the Salk's siege machines reached their walls. Knowing now that reinforcements could not arrive in time the Blackfist clan separated into tortoise formations to guard against the Salk archers while they marched. By the chief's orders all the remaining orcs of the clan were to watch from the walls then seal themselves in the treasury vault for one last stand.

Even from the lowest vantage point Kraex could still see his elders marching to their last battle. They fought with honor and fearlessness even unto death and took many of the blood traitors with them. He watched with pride as his chief took human after human to the ground with his mighty war-axes. Above all else, however, Kraex remembers the coward, Prince Anarius, shooting the chief with his bow and arrow as he sat safely perched atop his white steed behind a large phalanx. The gutless act would be forever seared into his mind, and he vowed to never rest until that prince was lifeless against his blade.

After the chief fell the rest of the orcs left in the fort did just as he ordered and took refuge in the underground vaults. For what felt like days they waited for the Salks to raid their last stronghold but they didn't come. Supplied with enough rations to live for at least a month they kept their promise to the chief and waited. To their dismay instead of Salks breaking into the vault a band of marauders broke through the sealed door. Having no skilled warriors amongst them the raiders quickly overcame them and killed everyone except the children.


For the next six years Kraex would live in the heart of the Rough Lands in a town built up from the old ruins of Arakanth. There he would be enslaved as the grounds keeper for a vile and inhuman arena of gladiatorial slaughter. Truly a loathsome existence but at least his life was spared from the chop house. As pitiful as his young life might have been, being surrounded by hardened warriors didn't come without its advantages. The ones that survived more than a few months befriended Kraex since he could slip them extra rations, smuggle in dice, or other vices from time to time. In exchange the gladiators would teach Kraex how to wield a sword and various battle tactics.

By the time he was nine years old he'd become quite proficient with a short sword and a dirk. He was also teeming with confidence that he could escape since the slave warden paid little attention to his whereabouts. So Kraex waited for a profitable night at the arena when the guards would be drunk and less alert. When that night came his freedom and several of the gladiators were bought in blood as the guards were shown no mercy, and by the will of the Father, Kraex was able to avert any search parties that might have been after him.


With the world before him, Kraex could have tried to leave the past behind, but all the young orc could think about day and night was sending Anarius straight to Cherga. No matter the cost, even at the expense of his own life, he would see to it that Anarius was killed. The journey wouldn't be easy for the vengeful orc since he was about as far from the Prince's location as one could be. Of course at the time he didn't know that, and the only place he could think to go for answers was back home. To his surprise the fortress of Ghir-Ann-Mar was still intact, albeit, inhabited by a new horde.

Impressed by Kraex's story of survival the new chief decided to support Kraex's blood-feud with the dastardly prince. Although he could not support him with soldiers or a war due to their small numbers he did equip Kraex with armament and rations for his travels. He also reunited Kraex with the only two survivors of the Billdur's War, named such because the new clan only knew the Blackfist clan as the builders of their great keep. Both were warriors of his clan but not faces that he could remember. Meeting them was bittersweet, however, since one of them was blind and the other was missing his left arm from the elbow down.

Nonetheless, he found some solace in the fact that someone other than him had weathered through the slaughter. They told him about what they personally witnessed and how the reinforcements from the south came just in time to save their life and route the Salk army. By the time their story was over Kraex felt like their afflictions were now his own, and their corporeal sacrifices were imprinted on his mind forever. His return home strengthened his resolve and gave him more than just material tools to complete his quest. Anarius would now face retribution three fold, and if it took an entire lifetime of globe-trotting to find the gutless coward he was prepared for the hunt. Kraex figured there was no better place to start than to head straight into the lion's den, Salkmaerian territory.

Before long it was time to say goodbye, and after a few sacrifices to the altar of Moshran he made the trek east to reach the Forkmyr River knowing that it would take him all the way to the capital city if that were needed. He made sure to stay on the south side of the river like the chief's scouts instructed because the north side was in Albarian territory, and known slave drivers worked between the ruins of Naskur and Nubris. For months he traveled along the river catching a few fishing boats here and there that would take him to the next village until finally he reached the city of Laris. The stop was pretty much useless except for the locals that told Kraex how Anarius had become somewhat of a joke throughout the kingdom after his embarrassing lost to the orcs in the southlands. Granted the gossip was amusing but after nearly two years of traveling to not even get a rumor to his whereabouts was disheartening. Fortunately, the capital was just a few months ride, and he was certain that he would get answers there.

Sure enough his theory was proven right on a cold wintery night in Chos. From an unassuming bar wench Kraex was able to divulge that Prince Anarius was sent to a remote island called Gobaith to prove to his father that he was worth a damn. After confirming the wenches rumors from a few more sources Kraex finally had the information he'd been seeking. He wasted no time to try and make travel arrangements to the tiny island but soon found out that a voyage from Falmarha to Gobaith would take a lifetime to acquire. Over the next few months he poked around enough to find out that Koldamar had some ships that often sailed to Gobaith for trade. Once again Kraex had to take to foot and made his way to the port city of Koldamar. Not taking into account the time of year the circuit proved quite treacherous, but Kraex didn't back down from rain or sleet and by the time he made it through Mitsobar the weather had improved dramatically.

As if Nargùn himself decided that this expedition had to be fraught with one arduous undertaking after another Kraex soon found out that Koldamar's fares to Gobaith were no cheaper. Determined to find a way to get to Gobaith Kraex planned for months how to stow away on an outbound ship. Getting on the ship actually proved to be quite easy, but when hunger and thirst set in after a day or two Kraex had to think fast. He knew that the trip would only take a few weeks so he decided to sneak out at night every third day. For a while this worked out great, but once the captain found out that rations were short someone had to pay. Kraex figured that after a few suspects were flogged and thrown into the brig that it would be safe to sneak out again. This time his theory was wrong and a sentry discovered him. Knowing that he would probably be killed for his actions he tried to fight his way off the ship.

Now days most of that night lies forgotten in the deep recesses of his mind, but the parts he can remember involved much blood, screaming, and the feeling of drowning. The next thing he recalled was waking up on the sandy shores of a foreign land. There a man with many mules offered his aid and patched the orc up as best he could. The human was nice unlike most and when the orc asked him where he washed up the man replied, "Your on the isle of Gobaith in the city of Varshikar."

Despite his condition the orc couldn't help but be thankful. The island he had sought after for so many months was now beneath his feet, and no matter how long it took he would get back to full strength. The question was could he fulfill his mission alone, especially with the state he found himself in. He couldn't even walk without the assistance of the makeshift crutch the human made him. He needed brothers, he needed a clan, and according to the human he was conveniently located near the stronghold of Dar'krest. Yet another task trying to deter him from his quintessential path, but he would not stop even if had to walk around the whole mountain before ascending. Bootstraps tightened and pride soaring he set out once again, this time to find a helpful brother or sister to aid him.

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