"I have just three things to teach: simplicity, patience, compassion. These three are your greatest treasures." - Lao Tzu
My name is Thrognok Worgrider, though I prefer to be called Throg in most instances. I was born and raised in the town of Grok'has west of shattered Liminal. My father, Grok the Small, is the son of Adasha, the younger sister of Grok of the Rose and Thorn of old Liminal fame. My mother is a goat herder named Nahg.
My childhood was relatively uneventful. My father raised and trained worgs and my mother herded goats - I spent a great deal of time doing both. When I came of age, I was visited by Wolf. She bid me leave the village before the moon appeared again and to leave all of my possessions behind, save one keepsake from each parent and the clothing I currently wore. I was tasked to travel into the mountains and meditate upon a stone that floats upon the water until Wolf visited me again.
The next morning I bid farewell to my family and friends and set off into the mountains wearing only a sarong and with a worg pup and a goat as my companions, gifts from my parents.
I traveled deep into the forest and up into the mountains until I found a small valley with a pond. In the middle of the pond was a rock outcrop that appeared as if a large stone was floating atop the water. I swam out to it and began my meditation.
I remained in this valley, hunting, living off the land, meditating and communing with nature, for nine years. I had named the worg pup Rabbit, our favorite food, and the goat is Boulder, though she is far more difficult to budge. I felled trees and built ourselves a home next to the pond. I sought to perfect my body and mind and to seek the wisdom of the wilds surrounding me.
Wolf has not appeared to me yet. So I wait. I tend to my garden, care for Boulder and hunt with Rabbit. I practice the stance and forms my great uncle Rahl had taught me when I was very young. I sing the songs of praise to Wolf and Moon and all the great spirits. And I mediate.
Wolf is recognized as a hunter and warrior. He is devoted to the other members of his pack. As the ancient saying goes, Wolf wins every fight but one - the one that kills him. Wolf shamans are loyal to friends and family unto death. They do not show cowardice in battle, and their word is their bond.
Wolf represents the virtues of loyalty, ferocity, and strength in numbers and is often invoked for help in tracking the shamans prey.
Moneys: This marvelous world we live in provides nearly everything I require. I keep very little coin with me, only enough to be sociable with my peers, otherwise I give it away to others who can benefit from it more than I.
Carried Equipment: staff (focus), sarong, Staff of the Adder, herbalism kit, carpenter's tools
Companions: Rabbit (♀ dire wolf) and Boulder (♀ goat)
Stored Equipment: When I lived in the mountains, I would stockpile food and supplies to last us through the winter, but when I travel I find no need for hoarding possessions in some elsewhere lair like some sort of dragon.
Boulder is a goat. A very, very stubborn nanny goat who delights in eating tree bark, hair and fur. She had been a gift from Throg's mother to take on his journey into the mountains. She doesn't do much, other than eat, though she has provided Throg with wool for use in making a handful of crude items, such as blankets, cloaks and sarongs. She seems to mostly enjoy expertly ignoring her two companions, though she becomes agitated anytime she perceives herself as being alone. When Rabbit and Throg sing to the Moon, she likes to sing as well - in her own fashion.
Rabbit is a worg and Throg's constant companion. She had been given to him as a pup by his father as his gift to accompany his son on his sojourn into the mountains at the behest of Wolf. Rabbit loves to hunt, for food and for play. Often she will skulk about the valley just to see how long she can pursue prey or even Throg and Boulder, without them being aware of her presence. She is a picky eater - rabbit is her favorite food, while she dislikes squirrel and quail.
Reed and I met through a dangerous, tragic destiny - dragged into events because of people we have never even met who had died before we were ever born. I would never have though that I'd have something to thank the dark, alien forces beyond he boundaries of creation for - but I do. I'm every so fond of this little fellow. He is quick, clever, brave and burdened with such a good soul. On the surface an observer would think he is motivated by greed, but one merely needs to see the whole of him - how he gives freely to those in need, those who are forgotten and downtrodden, the invisible people in the city who are the most in need.
Sherman is Reed's tiny companion. He is a brave, smart little mouse that Reed named after his legendary hero, a dog..lizard thing wizard of some sort that was one of my Great-Granduncle's companions.
Astra, also called "Lady Astra", though it turns out that she isn't a member of any sort of nobility, instead it was an honorary give to her by grateful shifters that she had defended. Given her hatred of nobles and rulers, it's ironic that she bears this honorary with such pride - like nobility would. Astra is...a bit dark. And very violent. She has lofty goals, very honorable and noble goals, but she is thoughtlessly willing to walk dark and bloody paths in order to achieve them. Her arcane skill is impressive, if not often unpredictable.
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I've learned a great deal about Z in the time we have spent together - a great deal of lies, obfuscations, falsehoods and half-truths - and half is a generous assumption. Zander, Z'Orion, Zubzub, Zek, Zwhatever-it-is-today, I don't even know what his name is. So I've just decided on calling him "Z". He's impatient, impetuous and vain and thinks everyone around him isn't nearly as clever as he. Oh, and turns out - he's a satyr wearing a human disguise for reasons I'll likely never know the truth about. He's a god when he gets his hands on an instrument, able to will the world around him to bend to his whims - it's impressive, useful and also terrifying.
Practical, logical, dedicated, loyal - these are only a few of the words that immediately come to mind when I think of Vesuvius. I've never had much of an opinion on knighted warriors. Most of those I have met are severely lacking in the virtues they are said to represent, but Sir Vesuvius is the first I've know who truly deserves his title. He is logical yet practical, quiet yet passionate. He is honest and to the point. If more people in the world were like him, it would be a much greater place to live in. Vesuvius hails from the lost people of Astrapola, seers and prophets who had gleaned meaning and insight from the stars in the sky. They had suffered from persecution following the destruction of Liminal, their neighbors driven by fear destroyed their city and slew its people. Vesuvius has expressed an interest in rebuilding Astrapola and I have offered him my aid in doing so (assuming I can convince Reed to sign up).
I've only recently met this strange creature. A dragonborn exile from the Empire of the Nine, fate led his path and quest to cross over with our own. We travel together for now as we have need of the same destination, though I am skeptical of his motivations and especially his actions. He had murdered an unarmed, restrained and defeated enemy that had surrendered himself to us and provided what information we had asked of him. He claims that he was doing it for the sake of justice, but I saw no justice. I only saw cold and merciless murder because he deemed it the easiest, most convenient path. I will remain wary of this draconic creature while we continue to travel together.
I miss Cassea. She left our fellowship in order to remain behind in Threecoin with her guild brothers and sisters who needed her help. I hope she is safe and well. She was level headed and had quick wit and was often the one who led us into action, where otherwise the rest of us would have debated on what needed to be done for hours. I am confident that we have not seen the last of her. We were all brought together and bound by a fate greater than us all - I do not think it is done with us and she is a piece of the puzzle we are all destined to solve.
Family in Grok'has
Grok "the Small" Worgrider
Grok is the oldest son of Adasha Worgrider. Who his father is remains unclear, though his mother was able to narrow it down to three potential candidates; one dead, one gone and a blacksmith in Grok'has. As only one of them was available, Grok had always considered the blacksmith to be his father. Grok was given the nickname "the Small" by his younger brothers, all of whom were taller than he was, though he was nearly six and a half feet in height. Grok helped his mother raise and train worgs and continued to do so after she passed away.
Grok is impatient, impulsive and not particularly bright. It's often been said that his personality shares more in common with his worgs than it does people. His wife and his mother when she had been alive seem to be the only people capable of reigning him in when he becomes irrationally enraged.
Grok was not particularly happy about his son's claims of having been chosen by a wolf spirit to go live alone in the forest. The boy had chores to do. Responsibilities. What would the community say? Nahg is the one who convinced him to allow it, though he chose the most ill tempered of worg pups to give Throg as a "gift", stating that he hoped it ate him for being such a fool.
Nahg is the daughter of Graka of the Tenspears tribe, one of those that had been defeated by Khash during the Hordemarch unification. She was one of those that had chosen to flee into exile rather than join the Hordemarch. She found her way to Grok'has and died giving birth to a daughter. Nahg was adopted by Nemeia, a tiefling goat herder, rumored to have once been a scholar in Liminal.
Nahg is unusually patient and calm for a half-orc, a trait she had learned from her adopted mother and one that she had passed onto her son. She is a prolific reader and talented seamstress.
Nahg supported her son's calling by Wolf, though she could not hide her sadness - she knew that those called upon by gods and spirits were destined to live exciting, important and brilliant lives, but often lives that were far too short. But to fight such a destiny almost always ended in tragedy.
Grok III, Kren, Ashka & Nemia
Throg's brothers Grok III and Kren and his sisters, Ashka and Nemeia, all younger than he is save for Grok III who is two years his elder. Throg gets along well enough with his siblings, in the fashion that most half-orc children get along. They fight, they play, they live, grow and experience the world together. Tragedy struck the family when little Kren had been killed by *something* that had wandered out too far from the usual range of the dangers of Liminal. Afterwards Grok III became aggressively protective and authoritative over his younger siblings, which caused strife and distance amongst the children. He was far more angry about Throg's visit from Wolf than anyone else in the family, believing it to have been made up. They fought about it that night and then again just before Throg left for the mountains with a fresh black eye as a gift from his older brother.
Projects, Goals and/or Downtime
- Escape from Liminal with his new allies intact.
- Return to his lake and resume meditation as Wolf had bid him do until she comes again (and hope Rabbit & Boulder are waiting for him there).
Session 1, 01.02.15 - Waking in Irons