[Arry]

Submitted for the Orc character – Dol Guldur Main Forces

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES/NO - Which one?

No; this is my first here.
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2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in?

None
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3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn

Yes

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For your character please include:

NAME: Gromwakh

AGE: One year is much like the next to him . . . but he’s at least five – beyond that he’s unsure; birthdays not being celebrated among the members of the Orcish race. He only knows he and his tent-mate, Snikdul, have gone hunting in the dark forest once a year at midsummer since they came to serve at Dol Guldur. Got five black squirrel heads each they wear on filthy, twisted cords about their waist. Looking to add a few Elf fingers if they can get them.

RACE: Orc, originally from Mount Gundabad

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: A rusty, but serviceable filet knife he never cleans, other than to wipe it hastily on the thigh of his breeches – long thin blade: good for sticking, skinning, and general slice-work. Main weapon - a hefty hardwood cudgel studded with raggedy iron spikes. Brainbash, he calls it.

APPEARANCE: Squat in stature, dark skinned, with patches of greasy hair on his head. Thin, wiry-muscled arms and legs. Protuberant belly. His eyes are dark brown, and rather bulbous. His feet and hands are large with long, ragged, yellowed nails. Snaggle-toothed, pimply skinned, and stinks of the mouldy concoction of onion and rancid bird eggs he likes to spread on his bread, when he can get it. Wears a stiff leather jerkin pieced together from some small animals best unknown; a pair of cast-off breeches with more holes than material. No foot covering; no head-gear. Has a small leather pouch strung on the cord round his waist for carrying messages as needed.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Not exceedingly bright; but has the cunning of the put-upon. An excellent follower only if the leader keeps him under his watchful eye and his back within reach of his whip. He has proved himself able at running messages between one staging area and another. Runs fast and for long periods without tiring (though not without grumbling). Cowardly by some standards, though he sees it as pure self preservation. Very good at hiding during a fight. Can defend himself ably, though, if attacked.

HISTORY: Most of his life has been spent in the dark, Orc-warrens beneath the Misty Mountains. Keeping the ways open for the Dark Lord’s traffic and free of the occasional unfortunate Dwarf or man who ventured beneath the roots of the mountains. Nice there, he thought. Not much to do, and there was always some tasty rat or bat to be had for snacking when the mood struck him.

Just five years ago a large number of his fellow Orcs, himself included, had been driven south and then east to Dol Guldur, putting an end to his relatively easy life. Something about the Dark Master needing troops for a big fight he was planning. He couldn’t be sure. The big Orcs that captained them drove them day and night beneath the mountains, when they could, and out beneath old Yellow Face when needed. The pace was too fast for idle questions, and the looks on the faces of the brutes with whips discouraged any questions as it was.

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I’d like very much to carry along Gromwakh’s companion, Snikdul; if I might.

Here’s a short bio for him:

NAME: Snikdul

AGE: somewhere in the vicinity of Gromwakh’s – maybe a bit younger

RACE: Orc from Mount Gundabad

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: A short, curved blade sword with a hook at the end – he’s named it The Ripper. A medium length, thick iron bar he can wield with his left hand while his right holds the sword. ‘Slash ‘em and bash’em’ is his motto.

APPEARANCE: Short and dark like Gromwakh. Long armed, thick legged, muscular. Slant-eyed. Yellow fanged. Wears a tattered leather vest of unknown color - greasy, grimy, and sewn with a number of pockets, inside and out. Equally greasy breeches bearing numerous unnamed splotches. In battle, he sports a battered helmet whose craters and crevices match the contours of his misshapen skull. And he has a rather large nose that drips quite often and a lot.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Very talkative, likes to prattle on at the most inopportune moments. Follows along after Gromwakh as if he were a younger brother. Dangerous as a cornered badger when threatened, but prefers, as does Gromwakh, to avoid being cornered at all.

HISTORY: Much the same as Gromwakh’s

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Arry's post:

‘I heard it was old One-eye going to lead most of us this time.’

Gromwakh muttered something unintelligible in return as his ratting companion, Snikdul, nattered on about the rumored plans for the upcoming battle. They were down in the depths of the cellars and passageways beneath Dol Guldur. Hunting was good down there, the rats plump from the horde of foods stored for the use of the fortress’ little army. The small burlap sack the two Orcs had dragged down with them was filled with tasty morsels . . . some of them still squirming.

‘You gonna stand there and talk while I do the work,’ Gromwakh growled, casting a nasty look at his companion. ‘Think you can talk your dinner to death, do you!’ he picked up a clump of mouldering dirt and threw it at Snikdul.

Silence and the scrabbling of the two-leggeds after the four echoed in the dim, dusty recesses of the main storeroom. Unable to help himself, as he methodically wrung one of his catches’ necks, Snikdul found himself speaking again. ‘Well whatta ya think of that?’ he asked, continuing on, as if there had been no pause.

‘Think about what?’ rasped Gromwakh. ‘One filthy Uruk’s the same as any other. It’ll be “Scum do this!” and Scum do that!” and ours’ll be the backs that bleed when the whips are laid to them.’ Gromwakh looked up, glaring as Snikdul Shhh’d him. He chucked a squealing rodent against the stone wall for emphasis. ‘Stop your sniveling! Whatta ya going on about? Think the stones down hear have ears? Think again!’ He waved a stiff rat’s body over his head, pointing it up toward the top of the hill. ‘All them high-and-mighties are somewhere up there making their plans. And it’ll be our snaga-hides the nasty Elf-blades’ll be cutting on the front lines.’ Snikdul wiped the back of his arm across his dripping nose, giving a resigned shrug to his companion’s comments.

Gromwakh motioned for Snikdul to follow him down the dirt tunnel. Their shuffling steps were muffled by the loose dirt of the floor as they loped along. Dried, twisted roots from the few trees still clinging to life on the hill poked out here and there from the tunnel’s roof – snagging the hapless hunters on the head as they passed. Just before they reached the steps up to the surface, Snikdul spoke up again. Another observation had bubbled up to the surface of his thick stew of half-formed thoughts.

‘Hey . . . I heard something about that man-Captain . . . Herding they called him. Clever, he is . . . he hates them southern pushdugs much as we do. Snikdul snorted with laughter. Gromwakh grunted and slung the rat sack over his other shoulder. ‘Quiet now. We’re here at the top. Filthy walls do have ears up here . . .’

The two Orcs slunk low, half hidden in the shadows afforded by the scraggly bushes and the rough-hewn sides of the fortress. They kept their eyes on the ground before them, fervently hoping no one would notice their passage.

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Hope this will do! Will change any of it as needed (I did mention Orofaniel's and Kransha's characters if that's alright).

Looking forward to play, if possible. Thanks for your consideration!

-- Arry