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Grim Troll
Star
- Joined
- Mar 2, 2016
Greetings Bluemoon, I've come in search of games, of dice, and above all? I dream of glory and adventure, of tearing my way through the weak and the masses. But of course, I am not looking for an ongoing murder fest, not looking for mountains of corpses and seas of gore.... or at the very least, not the only things.
I currently have three characters looking for someone to lead them to glory, to unleash them across some helpless world, though if I have an offer, I would be more then happy to make a new character. For in the end, all that matters to me, is the games themselves, not what they are. To quote Samkin, the game is nothing, the playing of it, everything.
My only limits are scat and watersports.
Just send me a PM, if your interested in running something. However, I also play Black Crusade, GURPS 3e and Warhammer Fantasy 2nd edition.
His name is Naloth, a fearsome red dragon, and he knows it. He dreams of fire and gold, of gathering unto himself vast stores of wealth, a hoard to put to same the dreams of human and dwarven kings. To lurk atop that, as the pathetic races of the world come to him, and offer up tribute and worship, that he may spare their lives, to enslave them rather then waste the time to incinerate them for their presumption that there feeble pleading matters to one as exalted as himself.
Of course, he is not yet anywhere near his full growth.
Still, he will not sit around on his tail, no. He will seek out the beginnings of his hoard, he will take unto himself a host of servants and slaves, to glorify himself and establish his power in the world. And those that try and stop him?
They. Will. BURN.
His tale has begun, but the storyteller has had life intervene. (Not looking to continue, just here for a sample)
His egg had been found, some few months ago, by a young novice wizard, exploring the forest. Taken back to her mistresses tower, he was fortunate in that the egg had not made into an omelet or used as the reagent for some spell. It was however, used for a particular experiment. Using an adaptation of the druidic spell, they sought to awaken him inside the egg, to essentially make the bird, for that is what they thought he was, might be raised to be a good minion for them.
One the one claw, they were wrong, if only because he was a good bit more... prehistoric. Still, after getting over the initial confusion, they began to experiment more on the hatchling, showing barely any affection towards the small reptile. It was hardly the best environment to grow up in.
Still, for Ruck, luck was with him. Two weeks ago, adventurers broke in, killed those in the tower, and looted the place. Having slipped out instead of guarding them, he lurked for a while, though now, he will go out into the world. He knows little of the world, though he knows one thing.
None will ever control him again!
War, war was all he ever knew, all he knows, and all that he had ever been involved in. For trolls, despite their size, strength and tenacity, are seen as little more then living weapons. Those that try to break away are killed, executed to serve as examples, as their lives do not matter. Better that they die on the battlefield, then the important people, the actual people, the citizens. For what is the life of a monster compared to their own lives, or that of their family?
Trolls, while a wild and simple people, used to be more then this. They had a culture, however crude the civilized people would call it. they lived in harmony with the natural world, unlike the casual destruction that the city dwellers unleash. Broken and enslaved when the great empires expanded into their tribal territories, they have gone from being free peoples in the wilds, to the slave soldiers for uncaring cities, used to fight in proxy wars.
But, there is a burning core of resentment and hate, as the people in their walled cities grow fat and complement, relying almost entirely on their troll slaves to fight for them. And they are close to the point of a bloody uprising. Something that Kralg is all too aware of. Cunning and brutal, despite being young, he dreams of two things. Freedom for his people, and a death to civilization itself.
For once, this was troll land. They want to stay here? they'll stay here forever. Going to bury them here.
I currently have three characters looking for someone to lead them to glory, to unleash them across some helpless world, though if I have an offer, I would be more then happy to make a new character. For in the end, all that matters to me, is the games themselves, not what they are. To quote Samkin, the game is nothing, the playing of it, everything.
My only limits are scat and watersports.
Just send me a PM, if your interested in running something. However, I also play Black Crusade, GURPS 3e and Warhammer Fantasy 2nd edition.
His name is Naloth, a fearsome red dragon, and he knows it. He dreams of fire and gold, of gathering unto himself vast stores of wealth, a hoard to put to same the dreams of human and dwarven kings. To lurk atop that, as the pathetic races of the world come to him, and offer up tribute and worship, that he may spare their lives, to enslave them rather then waste the time to incinerate them for their presumption that there feeble pleading matters to one as exalted as himself.
Of course, he is not yet anywhere near his full growth.
Still, he will not sit around on his tail, no. He will seek out the beginnings of his hoard, he will take unto himself a host of servants and slaves, to glorify himself and establish his power in the world. And those that try and stop him?
They. Will. BURN.
His tale has begun, but the storyteller has had life intervene. (Not looking to continue, just here for a sample)
His egg had been found, some few months ago, by a young novice wizard, exploring the forest. Taken back to her mistresses tower, he was fortunate in that the egg had not made into an omelet or used as the reagent for some spell. It was however, used for a particular experiment. Using an adaptation of the druidic spell, they sought to awaken him inside the egg, to essentially make the bird, for that is what they thought he was, might be raised to be a good minion for them.
One the one claw, they were wrong, if only because he was a good bit more... prehistoric. Still, after getting over the initial confusion, they began to experiment more on the hatchling, showing barely any affection towards the small reptile. It was hardly the best environment to grow up in.
Still, for Ruck, luck was with him. Two weeks ago, adventurers broke in, killed those in the tower, and looted the place. Having slipped out instead of guarding them, he lurked for a while, though now, he will go out into the world. He knows little of the world, though he knows one thing.
None will ever control him again!
War, war was all he ever knew, all he knows, and all that he had ever been involved in. For trolls, despite their size, strength and tenacity, are seen as little more then living weapons. Those that try to break away are killed, executed to serve as examples, as their lives do not matter. Better that they die on the battlefield, then the important people, the actual people, the citizens. For what is the life of a monster compared to their own lives, or that of their family?
Trolls, while a wild and simple people, used to be more then this. They had a culture, however crude the civilized people would call it. they lived in harmony with the natural world, unlike the casual destruction that the city dwellers unleash. Broken and enslaved when the great empires expanded into their tribal territories, they have gone from being free peoples in the wilds, to the slave soldiers for uncaring cities, used to fight in proxy wars.
But, there is a burning core of resentment and hate, as the people in their walled cities grow fat and complement, relying almost entirely on their troll slaves to fight for them. And they are close to the point of a bloody uprising. Something that Kralg is all too aware of. Cunning and brutal, despite being young, he dreams of two things. Freedom for his people, and a death to civilization itself.
For once, this was troll land. They want to stay here? they'll stay here forever. Going to bury them here.
