Nomgulg
06-12-06, 06:51 PM
Name: Nomgulg Narod
Age: 25
Race: Forest troll, Witherbranch tribe
Sex: Male
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Pale white
Height: 8 feet
Weight: 198 lbs
Occupation: Salesman
Alignment: Neutral good
Personality:
These…trolls…are just unlike any other. They let me live!
Nomgulg is one of the friendliest Trolls you’ll find still alive. Much like his entire tribe he feels spiritually connected to every living being. He’s willing to stick his neck out of others, as he feels they’ll do the same for him. This does not result in being naive, though. He knows evil when he senses it and he’ll try and keep as large a distance to it as possible.
The Troll loves a good joke once in a while and has great respect for people with humor. He also gives a lot of respect to people who put pride and love into what they do. Be it either crafting or fighting, when somebody is good at what he/she does, he shows the proper respect, even against enemies.
Appearance:
Being 8 feet tall and weighing in at 198 lbs Nomgulg is an average forest Troll, with a green-colored skin. Being rather large compared to other creatures he’s small within his own tribe. Though, he has a bit of a chubby belly and walks a bit bend over.
Long black hair hangs down just around his shoulders, coming from beneath his tin, brown helmet. His eyes are a pale white and don’t have any pupils in them, being a defect at birth, making him blind for the rest of his live. Sharp teeth fill his mouth, as any proud Troll would have.
History:
Too bad they drove themselves into an almost complete extinction…I could use an ornamental Troll head!
The tribe of Witherbranch. One of the last remaining Troll tribes still around, that haven’t been completely slaughtered after the last civil war. Trolls have been known for their brutal battles within their own species, but nothing like the massacre that took place a couple of years ago. Nomgulg was just becoming a man when the great shaman Jukha united three of the major tribes. The Shadowleaf tribe, the Bloodscream tribe and the Treesnapper tribe all showed up at Jukha’s command. None really had a clue as to what the brown-skinned shaman was up to. But all listened to his will, as they believed he was the reincarnation of the mighty Romarod, god of the Wind. Little did they know about the battle that would unfold, killing them all.
===//===
It all worked out as Jukha had planned, the tree tribes were bringing him gifts and worshipping him like he was some kind of god. He didn’t know why, nor did he care. He had an enormous army at his command and soon his dream would come true. The dream of slaying all those human-loving, friendly-hearted Troll tribes, that dwelled on his turf. Proud as he was of his heritage he couldn’t ever let them roam free, accepting the filthy humans and elves into his sacred groves. They didn’t deserve to be in the forest or the mountains, they only deserved to die. Maybe he would take some of the females as prisoners, though, he pondered. For they made the perfect slaves and could even bring forth some interesting offspring. But that was neither here nor there, for now he only worried about slaying his unworthy brethren. He let forth a sinister laugh as he looked over his troops once again. This would a battle of epic proportions and he couldn’t wait to get it started…
===//===
The Witherbranch village didn’t have the slightest clue as to what awaited them. Nomgulg was just outside the town, holding his nose up in the wind to smell the flowers near him. Being blind since birth made him very dependant of his nose and ears. Highly developed smelling and hearing made it for him even an advantage of being blind, in some situations. Most of the trolls couldn’t tell one flower from another but Narod, with his smell extraordinaire, could easily keep them apart. No wonder he was designated to be the village’s herb gatherer. And at that very moment, when the great war was about to unfold, he was sticking his nose into the flower’s business. He couldn’t see them coming and even if he did it would have made little difference, for the thousands of trolls rampaged the village quicker than a blink of the eye.
===//===
Jukha didn’t stop after he annihilated most of the Troll tribes. He took up arms against the world outside the thick forests and high mountains that made up most of the troll’s environment. Not one of the surviving trolls that stayed behind had ever heard from the shaman and his army again. But, they didn’t care either. Most of them were glad that the evil commander had disappeared for they could start up their lives once again.
The scattered tribes, that were not even half of their former numbers, came together and started a single tribe. The Witherbranch tribe.
Feeling ashamed and guilty for the suffering caused by Jukha they retreated even further into the forest, abandoning all contact with the outside world. Destroying all weapons and picking up peaceful labor they kept themselves going, knowing they wouldn’t ever start a thing like that again.
Nomgulg, after being aged quite a bit, decided it was time for a change. He had been a crafter of all sorts of glasses for quite some time now and knew their was a market for his quality work outside of the Troll world. He had worked his way high up into the Troll hierarchy with his products, for every Witherbranch member sooner or later needed a pair of glasses. Either to compensate for the higher age they achieved, now that they didn’t have any real enemies left, or for protection against the blistering sun that always stood at the top of the sky. Narod even managed to imbue his work with a lesser form of magic, granting it to give a slight magical enchantment.
Without a doubt he packed his crafting goods, some food and drinks, said goodbye to his Witherbranch brethren and took off. Not everybody was to happy with his leaving, as some of the older members of the tribe were highly dependant of his craftwork. But Nomgulg took comfort in the thought that he left his most skilled employee in charge of the company. The tribe would be supplied in their needs for quite some time and Nomgulg could seek out to complete his dream; supplying the entire world with in their need for glasses!
Skills & Abilities:
Hearing (Above average)
Being blind for almost his entire life made Nomgulg’s other senses develop at a much faster rate. His hearing being one of the slower developing senses, though. He can hear sounds better than a normal person, making him able to hear vibrations a bit softer than average.
Smell (Good)
Narod’s smell has developed the fastest of all his senses and made him quite popular back in the days. He can now smell odors at two times the range of an average person, even picking up the smells earlier than others. At his current level he can even tell the difference between odors that are very similar to each other.
Glass crafting (Average)
With the right tools and resources Nomgulg can create either a pair of glasses or a pair of sunglasses. At his current level he can’t create glasses with materials stronger than steel.
Imbue glasses (Below average)
The magic that gives certain types of glasses a weak enchantment. Nomgulg can only perform this task once an hour and only once per glasses.
At his current level he can’t imbue glasses with materials stronger than steel. Nor can he imbue a magical bonus that lasts more than 5 minutes.
Dagger fighting (Average)
In the time of the war all Trolls were trained in weapon wielding, one way or another. Nomgulg chose to fight with daggers, even though he didn’t actually get to use them.
Equipment:
Equipped
Nomgulg wears a vest, pants and boots, all made of dark, high quality Troll leather. On his waist he wears a thick black belt, with 2 daggers hanging from the sides. The daggers are made of iron with a brown, woollen hilt. Also dangling from his belt are various skulls. Mostly those of his ancestors, with a hole drilled into them, now functioning as containers for all sorts of stuff.
His most prized possession is a small, tin helm which he wears on his head. This brownish colored helmet isn’t much of a protection, due to the weak material, but is of great emotional significance to Nomgulg.
Inventory (backpack)
· A pair of transparent glasses, granting the wearer a slight strength bonus. (Empowerers the wearer by multiplying its strength by 0.5 for the duration of 3 posts or until it's taken off.)
· A pair of red sunglasses.
· A pair of blue glasses, imbued with the power to grant a blind man sight. (This particular set of glasses nullifies Nomgulg's blindness, for the duration of 5 posts or until it's taken off.)
· A pair of green glasses, imbued with the ability to see in the dark. (Grants the power of seeing in the dark. Lasts for 5 posts or until it's taken off.)
(All above glasses contain one set of shiny lenses and a frame made of steel.)
Age: 25
Race: Forest troll, Witherbranch tribe
Sex: Male
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Pale white
Height: 8 feet
Weight: 198 lbs
Occupation: Salesman
Alignment: Neutral good
Personality:
These…trolls…are just unlike any other. They let me live!
Nomgulg is one of the friendliest Trolls you’ll find still alive. Much like his entire tribe he feels spiritually connected to every living being. He’s willing to stick his neck out of others, as he feels they’ll do the same for him. This does not result in being naive, though. He knows evil when he senses it and he’ll try and keep as large a distance to it as possible.
The Troll loves a good joke once in a while and has great respect for people with humor. He also gives a lot of respect to people who put pride and love into what they do. Be it either crafting or fighting, when somebody is good at what he/she does, he shows the proper respect, even against enemies.
Appearance:
Being 8 feet tall and weighing in at 198 lbs Nomgulg is an average forest Troll, with a green-colored skin. Being rather large compared to other creatures he’s small within his own tribe. Though, he has a bit of a chubby belly and walks a bit bend over.
Long black hair hangs down just around his shoulders, coming from beneath his tin, brown helmet. His eyes are a pale white and don’t have any pupils in them, being a defect at birth, making him blind for the rest of his live. Sharp teeth fill his mouth, as any proud Troll would have.
History:
Too bad they drove themselves into an almost complete extinction…I could use an ornamental Troll head!
The tribe of Witherbranch. One of the last remaining Troll tribes still around, that haven’t been completely slaughtered after the last civil war. Trolls have been known for their brutal battles within their own species, but nothing like the massacre that took place a couple of years ago. Nomgulg was just becoming a man when the great shaman Jukha united three of the major tribes. The Shadowleaf tribe, the Bloodscream tribe and the Treesnapper tribe all showed up at Jukha’s command. None really had a clue as to what the brown-skinned shaman was up to. But all listened to his will, as they believed he was the reincarnation of the mighty Romarod, god of the Wind. Little did they know about the battle that would unfold, killing them all.
===//===
It all worked out as Jukha had planned, the tree tribes were bringing him gifts and worshipping him like he was some kind of god. He didn’t know why, nor did he care. He had an enormous army at his command and soon his dream would come true. The dream of slaying all those human-loving, friendly-hearted Troll tribes, that dwelled on his turf. Proud as he was of his heritage he couldn’t ever let them roam free, accepting the filthy humans and elves into his sacred groves. They didn’t deserve to be in the forest or the mountains, they only deserved to die. Maybe he would take some of the females as prisoners, though, he pondered. For they made the perfect slaves and could even bring forth some interesting offspring. But that was neither here nor there, for now he only worried about slaying his unworthy brethren. He let forth a sinister laugh as he looked over his troops once again. This would a battle of epic proportions and he couldn’t wait to get it started…
===//===
The Witherbranch village didn’t have the slightest clue as to what awaited them. Nomgulg was just outside the town, holding his nose up in the wind to smell the flowers near him. Being blind since birth made him very dependant of his nose and ears. Highly developed smelling and hearing made it for him even an advantage of being blind, in some situations. Most of the trolls couldn’t tell one flower from another but Narod, with his smell extraordinaire, could easily keep them apart. No wonder he was designated to be the village’s herb gatherer. And at that very moment, when the great war was about to unfold, he was sticking his nose into the flower’s business. He couldn’t see them coming and even if he did it would have made little difference, for the thousands of trolls rampaged the village quicker than a blink of the eye.
===//===
Jukha didn’t stop after he annihilated most of the Troll tribes. He took up arms against the world outside the thick forests and high mountains that made up most of the troll’s environment. Not one of the surviving trolls that stayed behind had ever heard from the shaman and his army again. But, they didn’t care either. Most of them were glad that the evil commander had disappeared for they could start up their lives once again.
The scattered tribes, that were not even half of their former numbers, came together and started a single tribe. The Witherbranch tribe.
Feeling ashamed and guilty for the suffering caused by Jukha they retreated even further into the forest, abandoning all contact with the outside world. Destroying all weapons and picking up peaceful labor they kept themselves going, knowing they wouldn’t ever start a thing like that again.
Nomgulg, after being aged quite a bit, decided it was time for a change. He had been a crafter of all sorts of glasses for quite some time now and knew their was a market for his quality work outside of the Troll world. He had worked his way high up into the Troll hierarchy with his products, for every Witherbranch member sooner or later needed a pair of glasses. Either to compensate for the higher age they achieved, now that they didn’t have any real enemies left, or for protection against the blistering sun that always stood at the top of the sky. Narod even managed to imbue his work with a lesser form of magic, granting it to give a slight magical enchantment.
Without a doubt he packed his crafting goods, some food and drinks, said goodbye to his Witherbranch brethren and took off. Not everybody was to happy with his leaving, as some of the older members of the tribe were highly dependant of his craftwork. But Nomgulg took comfort in the thought that he left his most skilled employee in charge of the company. The tribe would be supplied in their needs for quite some time and Nomgulg could seek out to complete his dream; supplying the entire world with in their need for glasses!
Skills & Abilities:
Hearing (Above average)
Being blind for almost his entire life made Nomgulg’s other senses develop at a much faster rate. His hearing being one of the slower developing senses, though. He can hear sounds better than a normal person, making him able to hear vibrations a bit softer than average.
Smell (Good)
Narod’s smell has developed the fastest of all his senses and made him quite popular back in the days. He can now smell odors at two times the range of an average person, even picking up the smells earlier than others. At his current level he can even tell the difference between odors that are very similar to each other.
Glass crafting (Average)
With the right tools and resources Nomgulg can create either a pair of glasses or a pair of sunglasses. At his current level he can’t create glasses with materials stronger than steel.
Imbue glasses (Below average)
The magic that gives certain types of glasses a weak enchantment. Nomgulg can only perform this task once an hour and only once per glasses.
At his current level he can’t imbue glasses with materials stronger than steel. Nor can he imbue a magical bonus that lasts more than 5 minutes.
Dagger fighting (Average)
In the time of the war all Trolls were trained in weapon wielding, one way or another. Nomgulg chose to fight with daggers, even though he didn’t actually get to use them.
Equipment:
Equipped
Nomgulg wears a vest, pants and boots, all made of dark, high quality Troll leather. On his waist he wears a thick black belt, with 2 daggers hanging from the sides. The daggers are made of iron with a brown, woollen hilt. Also dangling from his belt are various skulls. Mostly those of his ancestors, with a hole drilled into them, now functioning as containers for all sorts of stuff.
His most prized possession is a small, tin helm which he wears on his head. This brownish colored helmet isn’t much of a protection, due to the weak material, but is of great emotional significance to Nomgulg.
Inventory (backpack)
· A pair of transparent glasses, granting the wearer a slight strength bonus. (Empowerers the wearer by multiplying its strength by 0.5 for the duration of 3 posts or until it's taken off.)
· A pair of red sunglasses.
· A pair of blue glasses, imbued with the power to grant a blind man sight. (This particular set of glasses nullifies Nomgulg's blindness, for the duration of 5 posts or until it's taken off.)
· A pair of green glasses, imbued with the ability to see in the dark. (Grants the power of seeing in the dark. Lasts for 5 posts or until it's taken off.)
(All above glasses contain one set of shiny lenses and a frame made of steel.)