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Grudge's Story

Here's Larry's backstory on his Dwarven barbarian, Grudge plus character illustration.


"As I started the story, which I have never said aloud before, all the grief and shame hit me. There was a celebration, we were loud and singing, it was a moment of pride.

We didn’t hear them coming. We were dancing and distracted. We let our guard down for this one moment. It was my 40th, I was becoming a man, and everyone was celebrating for me! It is my fault. I don’t cry, but I definitely feel the pain as I continue.

The goblins came in hordes. They surrounded us. Selfish as it is, I hold one image of a woman being thrown across the banquet table. The shame for me is overwhelming.

Those who they didn’t kill and eat, were taken as slaves. I was one of those. Believe me when I say to be eaten that first day was to be a lucky one.” Now I am beginning to feal the anger again, but for once, I want to say it. I want to confess. Tell what I can.

For 20 years, I toiled in the caves, digging and building for the Goblins. Then for their entertainment – they would make us fight each other for food. When you are starving, you will do horrid things. Things that come back to haunt you at night years later. While I am not the smartest, from all the building of walls and carrying rocks, I became the strongest. And more than a few, gained there freedom through giving in to my merciful hands. I can feel the blood rushing to my head. I never wanted too, never! But I did get good at it. It took 4 of those bastards to control me. And one night they got careless, perhaps I didn’t care any more, I crushed 2 of them. Before they took me down. Nearly killed me for it, but that would be too kind.

They sold me to the Orcs. For 10 years more I made armor and weapons, and fought in the orc gladiator pits. By day a blacksmith, by night I was a dog ment to eat what ever they through at me! Its just a story now, no shame in it. In some ways, the time with the orcs was better. But I was far from free. I was tortured, but also given a certain amount of dignity. They cheered for me in the pits, and didn’t force me to fight my own kind. They appreciated the work I put in to armor and weapons. But when you have a black iron collar on, you know you are nothing more than a well trained dog.

Over time, the collar began to fit with the orcs. While they could be cruel, they began to trust me. They began to take me hunting. I was to clean their game. Collect materials for arrows, javelins, and axes. I was their pack mule for bringing it all home.

That is when I was rescued, on a hunting trip. After 30 odd years of being a slave, I finally was able to take the collar off. I was free, but I had nothing to return too. Worst, I had no idea where to return too. Because they let their guard down, to celebrate ……me.

Yes indeed, and then to be rescued by Elves, non the less…..Honestly, I don’t know how much more torture a man can take! I tell them I want to be alone, no singing, no dancing, I don’t celebrate life! I survive it. But they don’t understand, and I am not cruel enough to explain it to them.

There was one, who would hunt with me, quietly. And we became friends, a word I had not known for a very long time."

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