Dregs
Posted: Mon Apr 25, 2011 11:32 pm
Name: Dregs
Age: 35
Race: Troll
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 186lbs
Physical Description:
A short, stocky but well built beast of burden. His body is that of a life long labourer. Muscle toned by mining in Keir, his skull is as thick as any troll, but it is in his size that makes him unique. Dregs was bastard born of a elven girl. Cursed with the size of a small creature, ridiculed was Dregs amongst his brethren.
He is bald and blind from the working in the dark, deep recesses of Keir mountain mines. His face and body is marked by deep gashes and grooves from ridicule he had received from the other trolls. He carries with him a weight of guilt for his own father had abandoned him, his shoulders hunched and knees ever bent low to the ground. Emphasizing his small stature.
He wears an ancient fur vest that was once washed during the Changer's War and has become a sort of heirloom to his family. Luck would have it that it once belonged to a werewolf and was skinned off its back by his ancient ancestors. Since then it had transformed from a cloak to a cape, a shirt then finally a vest as the material waned over the years. Dregs wears nothing more than that and a loincloth of simple tanned leather which also has seen far too many winters.
Possessions:
Loin cloth, a shovel, a chain noose around his neck and a fur vest. These four items he took with him when he had escaped the life of toil and trouble. The loin cloth was that of a slave, for he had been one in Keir. The shovel his only friend. It's name was that of a dig-stick, Chuffle. The chain noose made of copper, now green with rust and decay belonged to his masters whose names he had forgotten. Finally the fur vest belonged to his father. He had taken it off his dead corpse, during his last days in the mine. He cherishes this above all else he knows.
Powers or Strengths:
Dregs is a survivor. He had endured days with little to no air beneath the depths of mountains that threatened to crush him every morning. He has the strength of three men, he had proved this after crippling two with a ham fist to the face and killing another by breaking his back over his knee.
From his mother he had learned to appreciate nature. He has some base knowledge of herbs and remedies that she had passed on to him in his early life. She was an unfortunate elven lass who had been taken away from her own people to serve amongst prisoners and low-life scum like his father.
His father was a murderer and a thief. A good one at that. He had stolen from Kier merchants for nearly four decades in the mountain passes before they had roped him down outside a temple of Teodinus. From him he learned determination and strength was all that mattered in the world.
Weakness or Flaws:
Dregs is mostly blind during the day. He can make out shadows and light, but anything beyond a blurry blob he can mistaken to be a tree, a wagon, a person or an inn. He relies heavily on one ear, the other busted by a boulder that had been thrown at him when he was young. His hearing from that ear has ever since been terrible though it sometimes rings for no reason at all. At night his vision improves but a little as it had been accustomed to darkness for so long.
Despite his outward appearance, Dregs is actually very gentle. He had been ridiculed all his life, and found solace in his mother's embrace though small it was for her hands barely make it half way around his barreled belly. He had lost her to the slavers, who sold his mother to a merchant in Zaekonspiere. Since then he has been at a lost to what to do with his new found freedom and so he doggedly makes his way to Zaekonspiere, knowing little of what awaits him. A very one track minded monster that possess no will of his own.
As a half elven - half troll. Dregs possesses the natural weaknesses of both races. The susceptibility to burns and fire, and also emotionally unstable. Common to fits of extreme rage and sudden change in moods that can easily be tipped off by the smallest of things. A butterfly floating past him could turn him instantly to a fawning child while a rattle of chains can send him into bloodthirsty rampage. But for the most part, he is fairly dimwitted and empty of such thoughts.
All Dregs knows is a life of servitude. He was born a slave and believes that he will die a slave. Though his chains are broken and his masters skulls smashed across the side of a cliff in Keir, he still feels the whips and the manacles. He still feels the beatings and the burns. For fire was used often against him. The worst part of it all, is he has difficult sleeping beneath the stars or within buildings. In fact, he loathes most places that are made by man. Endures them only when he seeks food. Where he has no other choice but to venture into the cobbled streets, dirty alleyways and bustling roads of Thar Shaddin.
History:
It took him two years to make his way from Keir to Shaddin. Two years avoiding the main roads, wandering the wilderness, following his feet blinded by the sun and constantly in fear that his masters would send trackers after him. He slept very little during the first few days of his escape, he constantly heard the barking of dogs and saw the flickering of torches in the woods behind him. Whether there had been any would be hard to say for Dregs mind was not all there. He often has only the company of Chuffle to entertain him.
Every night Dregs would find a small gulley, high rooted tree or the rare cave to build his den. He used his rusty companion to carve out the door and from there he would make his room. He would gather moss, small rocks and dried leaves for a bed. Then he would place sticks, branches and bushes to cover his hiding spot. For he did not wish to return to the mines. He never wanted to go back there.
During his wanderings he had run into a young fur hunter. His name was Welkin Dice. Little Elk, is what Dregs decided to call him, pointed him down a back trail that would lead him to Thar Shaddin and from there he could learn where Zaekonspiere was, and possibly even find his mother, Nell. Little Elk also showed him a river bed and how to fish with his hands, allowing the young scaled lizards of the sea to swim into his outreached fingertips that he'd snatch up right away. To Little Elk dismay, Dregs would eat the fish raw, refusing the cooking fire or the small iron pot he used to brew his stew.
Even then he did not wish to trust any human more than he needed to. He arrived at Thar Shaddin, mostly in the manner he had escaped the lonesome woods and the terrifying mines before that. With Chuffle strapped to his back, his father's werewolf skinned vest, a copper chain necklace around his kneck with one end still dragging behind him and a large leather loincloth about his waist.
Dregs, the Dimwit of Kier.
Age: 35
Race: Troll
Height: 5'5"
Weight: 186lbs
Physical Description:
A short, stocky but well built beast of burden. His body is that of a life long labourer. Muscle toned by mining in Keir, his skull is as thick as any troll, but it is in his size that makes him unique. Dregs was bastard born of a elven girl. Cursed with the size of a small creature, ridiculed was Dregs amongst his brethren.
He is bald and blind from the working in the dark, deep recesses of Keir mountain mines. His face and body is marked by deep gashes and grooves from ridicule he had received from the other trolls. He carries with him a weight of guilt for his own father had abandoned him, his shoulders hunched and knees ever bent low to the ground. Emphasizing his small stature.
He wears an ancient fur vest that was once washed during the Changer's War and has become a sort of heirloom to his family. Luck would have it that it once belonged to a werewolf and was skinned off its back by his ancient ancestors. Since then it had transformed from a cloak to a cape, a shirt then finally a vest as the material waned over the years. Dregs wears nothing more than that and a loincloth of simple tanned leather which also has seen far too many winters.
Possessions:
Loin cloth, a shovel, a chain noose around his neck and a fur vest. These four items he took with him when he had escaped the life of toil and trouble. The loin cloth was that of a slave, for he had been one in Keir. The shovel his only friend. It's name was that of a dig-stick, Chuffle. The chain noose made of copper, now green with rust and decay belonged to his masters whose names he had forgotten. Finally the fur vest belonged to his father. He had taken it off his dead corpse, during his last days in the mine. He cherishes this above all else he knows.
Powers or Strengths:
Dregs is a survivor. He had endured days with little to no air beneath the depths of mountains that threatened to crush him every morning. He has the strength of three men, he had proved this after crippling two with a ham fist to the face and killing another by breaking his back over his knee.
From his mother he had learned to appreciate nature. He has some base knowledge of herbs and remedies that she had passed on to him in his early life. She was an unfortunate elven lass who had been taken away from her own people to serve amongst prisoners and low-life scum like his father.
His father was a murderer and a thief. A good one at that. He had stolen from Kier merchants for nearly four decades in the mountain passes before they had roped him down outside a temple of Teodinus. From him he learned determination and strength was all that mattered in the world.
Weakness or Flaws:
Dregs is mostly blind during the day. He can make out shadows and light, but anything beyond a blurry blob he can mistaken to be a tree, a wagon, a person or an inn. He relies heavily on one ear, the other busted by a boulder that had been thrown at him when he was young. His hearing from that ear has ever since been terrible though it sometimes rings for no reason at all. At night his vision improves but a little as it had been accustomed to darkness for so long.
Despite his outward appearance, Dregs is actually very gentle. He had been ridiculed all his life, and found solace in his mother's embrace though small it was for her hands barely make it half way around his barreled belly. He had lost her to the slavers, who sold his mother to a merchant in Zaekonspiere. Since then he has been at a lost to what to do with his new found freedom and so he doggedly makes his way to Zaekonspiere, knowing little of what awaits him. A very one track minded monster that possess no will of his own.
As a half elven - half troll. Dregs possesses the natural weaknesses of both races. The susceptibility to burns and fire, and also emotionally unstable. Common to fits of extreme rage and sudden change in moods that can easily be tipped off by the smallest of things. A butterfly floating past him could turn him instantly to a fawning child while a rattle of chains can send him into bloodthirsty rampage. But for the most part, he is fairly dimwitted and empty of such thoughts.
All Dregs knows is a life of servitude. He was born a slave and believes that he will die a slave. Though his chains are broken and his masters skulls smashed across the side of a cliff in Keir, he still feels the whips and the manacles. He still feels the beatings and the burns. For fire was used often against him. The worst part of it all, is he has difficult sleeping beneath the stars or within buildings. In fact, he loathes most places that are made by man. Endures them only when he seeks food. Where he has no other choice but to venture into the cobbled streets, dirty alleyways and bustling roads of Thar Shaddin.
History:
It took him two years to make his way from Keir to Shaddin. Two years avoiding the main roads, wandering the wilderness, following his feet blinded by the sun and constantly in fear that his masters would send trackers after him. He slept very little during the first few days of his escape, he constantly heard the barking of dogs and saw the flickering of torches in the woods behind him. Whether there had been any would be hard to say for Dregs mind was not all there. He often has only the company of Chuffle to entertain him.
Every night Dregs would find a small gulley, high rooted tree or the rare cave to build his den. He used his rusty companion to carve out the door and from there he would make his room. He would gather moss, small rocks and dried leaves for a bed. Then he would place sticks, branches and bushes to cover his hiding spot. For he did not wish to return to the mines. He never wanted to go back there.
During his wanderings he had run into a young fur hunter. His name was Welkin Dice. Little Elk, is what Dregs decided to call him, pointed him down a back trail that would lead him to Thar Shaddin and from there he could learn where Zaekonspiere was, and possibly even find his mother, Nell. Little Elk also showed him a river bed and how to fish with his hands, allowing the young scaled lizards of the sea to swim into his outreached fingertips that he'd snatch up right away. To Little Elk dismay, Dregs would eat the fish raw, refusing the cooking fire or the small iron pot he used to brew his stew.
Even then he did not wish to trust any human more than he needed to. He arrived at Thar Shaddin, mostly in the manner he had escaped the lonesome woods and the terrifying mines before that. With Chuffle strapped to his back, his father's werewolf skinned vest, a copper chain necklace around his kneck with one end still dragging behind him and a large leather loincloth about his waist.
Dregs, the Dimwit of Kier.