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Erirag the Poet
10-11-2017, 03:03 PM
Updates in gray. Original Profile here (http://www.althanas.com/oldworld/showthread.php?5342-0)

Name: Erirag Songcrafter; The Poet; Smasher of Podë's Echo
Age: 39 ((This is still considered young by Orcish standards, the equivalent of someone in their young twenties among humans.))
Race: Orc
Hair Color: Brown, streaked with a few ruddy red strands that catch the morning sun like blood flowing across a muddy battlefield.
Eye Color: Dirty amber, an ochred moonshine color worth drowning in.
Height: 7' 1"
Weight: 333 lbs
Occupation: Dead Bard

Personality: Eri may be a bard, traveling around the world recording songs and poetry about what she sees, but it doesn't make her any less of an orc. Her art focuses around most of her favorite things: death, destruction, booze and brawling. She's a slow thinker, coming to conclusions sometimes days after everyone else, but what she lacks in mental capacity she makes up in passion. While the average human may not be able to see it, she's also a woman very rooted in her morals and beliefs. She's holding out for the right orc, she believes that all life should be respectfully smashed with the exception of elves who should be annihilated at all costs, damn whatever disdain it must be done with, and above all, she believes that vegetables are for fluffy bunny rabbits and fluffy bunny rabbits are for midnight snacks.

Appearance: Once a new aquaintance has gotten over just how toweringly tall Eri is, the fact that she's got an underbite that would make a gargoyle snigger, and the nearly zombie-like green skin stretched over her massive form, they would probably be drawn to her breasts. Erirag is clothed in nothing more than a skirt of grass and leather around her hips. Her long hair is held back by pins of iron, speared through the eye sockets of small rodent skulls as macabre reminders of how young human and elven girls might wear jewels among their tresses. Around her neck, a string filled with shards of shells and knucklebones is looped several times, each peice ranging from a perfect bleached white to a creamy yellow. Across her torso and forearms, in thin long lines of lighter flesh, scars cross randomly. On her shoulder, the fading reminder of a nasty bite stands garishly out against the otherwise smooth flesh. In her ears, several loops of steel are set, and small bone bars sit content from where they've been speared through her nipples.

Her thigh is scarred with Ciato Orlouge's initials, her skin flecked with the bare scars of tiny cuts - to the point where she looks almo

History: Erirag was brought up with a normal Orcish upbringing, deep within the mountain recesses of Alerar. That is to say, she was mainly left to fend for herself along with the rest of the young. Education to the Orc is based largely on experience, and the motto "That which doesn't kill you only makes you stronger." While early attempts at warefare showed Erirag to have a promising future of survival within the tribe, there was something about the girl that wasn't quite right. Eri noticed things.

When the orc turned her 20th Winter, another trait began to show itself. She began to take those things that she noticed and put them into histories. She recorded stories and songs, poetry and thoughts down like an orc possessed. Each cave the nomadic tribe stopped in would soon be littered with the scratches of Orcish lyrical art that was Eri's new passion. However, because she was very good at smashing generally everything in sight, her eccentricities were tolerated.

For 17 years, Eri and her kind trooped through the Twilight Mountains, and Eri wrote. However, as the seasons changed, she began to notice that it was becoming harder to find new things to say about the things she'd seen. After a while, she began to think that maybe it would be good to go and see other things and write about them for a while. When she brought her concern to the Tribe Chief, he forbade her to leave. She was far too good at smashing things, he told her. And so, she did what any self respecting woman of independent means would do. She smashed him in the face.

The next morning, with the blessings of her family, friends, ancestors, and the muffled death threats from a broken-nosed Chief, she set out to compose the songs and stories of all she could find outside the tribe.

Her adventures sent her to Raiaera where she joined up with another orc she'd met for a tournament. They made it to fight against Ciato Orlouge and the Abomination with him before they were defeated, a slight that Erirag took to heart. She laid low and nursed the wounds to her pride until a call to aide Raiaera in the fight against Podë came out. Erirag traveled with many companions until alone she faced one of the Echos Podë had released to confuse the heroes hunting her. Erirag defeated the Echo but not before being killed.

Weapons/Armor: Erirag uses only the natural things she was given with in this regard.

Skin: Leather toughness - can be pierced by metal but withstands blunt attacks slightly better than average.

Fists: Same toughness as steel hammers.

Abilities

Orc Strength: Erirag has the strength equivalent to 3x the average man.

Equipment:
Thingur: Thingur is a very special lute, made by a fearful craftsman at Eri's request. The body is made of rosewood, with the soundboard made of stretched and stiffened elven skin. The soundboard has a single rose, or soundhole, under the strings, covered in a thin iron grille stylized to resemble the silhouettes of rats, all entwined in a knot. The tuning pegs are made of elven bone, and catgut was used for both the frets and the strings.

Currently Lost

Philomel
10-11-2017, 03:24 PM
Approved. Thingur lost, pretty lute with no abilities.