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Old 01-02-2004, 05:56 PM   #25
randomhobbit42
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Sting

Have you ever been in an RPG before? No.

Have you posted before in one of the Inns? Yes, the Green Dragon.

How many RPG's are you currently in? None.
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Name: Krolkhame, the Detestable

Age: Old, as far as orcs go

Race: Orcish

Gender: Male

Weapons: An orc scmitar, of course. A whip with many glass shards within it. And his favorite weapon: his own claws, which are long and incredibly sharp.

Apperance: Krolkhame is a tall orc, even for one that hunches. He is bald on the top of his head, but in the back and on the sides his dark hair is braided. He has many scars on his face. In his neck are scars of where a wolf had attacked him. Though the wound has healed, the teeth are still there half-way jutting out. He wears poor clthing, but has a sash that signifies him as captain. Over his clothing he wears thick chain mail. He wears gloves and boots that expose his sharp claws.

Personaltity: Krolkhame is a very tactile person. He knows when to strike and where. He is quiet. He is patient, even for being an orc. But every now and then he has been know to be quick tempered, as he usually let's his minions know by the crack of his whip. He is evil, no doubt. He's not a psychopath, as his followers believe. He's a thinker, always planning his wicked schemes.

History: Krolkhame was a great captain under Bolg. He fought ferociously at the Battle of Five Armies, where he almost died. His own wolf turned on him and took a big bite out of him. He struck the wolf down and fled the battle. Many an orc followed him back to the Mountains, but they were attacked by eagles upon their return. Only a handful survived. They came back to their orc-holes and tried to rebuild their numbers. In the caverns of Moria they made thier dwelling, making their stand in the deep dark. Little did Krolkhame know that he had not seen the last of the dwarves. They were returning to their halls in great numbers. Krolhame and his comrads went into hiding.
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randomhobbit42's post

The sun was setting on the Misty Mountains. Moon light began to fill the hollows of the place once called Dwarrowdelf. Krolkhame cracked his whip. Wa-crack! His goons cowled as they awaited thier captain's orders. "Well, well, well. What have we got here? Only a handful of orcs for me to command. What ever shall we do? The dwarves are returning here in great numbers and we are powerless to stop it."

He paused and lookled over his minions. Orcs that had fought with him at the Battle of Five Armies. Orcs that hated the dwarves with every drop of blood from their black hearts. He had watched a third of his kin fall in battle and another third eaten by the eagles. Krolkhame had only a handful of soldiers at his command against a great number of dwarves coming from the north. But the odds of an attack did not bother him. All he wanted was revenge.

"We do not need numbers to defeat these mindless dwarves. We must use their own greed against them. My fellow orcs, I have a plan..."

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 9:13 PM January 02, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]