Thread: Second Earth Character Sheets

Name Borkul of the KulRaka Clan Age 28 Gender Male Place of Birth The Wastelands Sexuality Heterosexual Physical Description Borkul stands at six feet four inches tall, years of training and fighting has left him with a chiseled and battle hardened body. Favoring precision to full on brute strength Borkul has a more toned and defined muscular frame then the average Half Orc that focuses on the pure girth and size of their muscles for optimum head chopping power. Being a Half Orc, Borkul's skin tone actually became more akin to his human parent a more yellowish cream then the normal reds, oranges, and greens of his people. His ears pointed back from his head like many Half Orcs, and even a pair of tusks started to show form between his lips. Even stranger then his more human flesh toned skin were the color of his eyes. A yellowish gold hue that should have been red. Though in the heat of battle, when his blood is pumping and the fury starts to take over, that yellowish gold quickly changes to a heart stopping red. As if his eyes were bleeding from the inside when he turns into a blood thirsty killer. Brief History The KulRaka Clan was known as one of the most savage and brutal Half Orc tribes to have ever been brought into the Wastelands. Their fierce and blood thirsty warriors hunt Revenants for sport and open full fledged war on the foolish humans that thought they could enter the Wastelands to gain favor with a dead King. Into this clan Borkul was born, and for twenty years the Half Orc fought and trained and became one of those blood thirsty warriors that were willing to put themselves in life threatening danger for the chance to strike back at those that had crippled their ancestors. But it was on that twentieth year that Borkul would fall in battle. There was no way that the army that Borkul was so proud of, standing with his brothers and sisters in arms, there was no way that they were ready for what was to come. Just like any other foolish human tribe that tried to claim KulRaka land, they would be met with the full might of the KulRaka army. However after so many years of resistance, so many years of successful massacres in the KulRaka's favor, how were they to know that it would draw the attention of him. This Avatar, just another warrior to the mighty KulRaka... But when this Avatar advanced, alone mind you, he seemed to advance with the dread and presence of an army one hundred times the size of the KulRaka. This Avatar single handedly destroyed the KulRaka army, half orc men and women being slain by the dozen with just a single swing of the Avatar's weapon. No manner of weapon or strategy seemed to effect this abomination. The fear that little KulRaka children that normally was beaten out of them with harsh training started to come back... The Dark King Derileth fought on. Borkul, like many of his bothers in arms, wouldn't go down without a fight. In all of his magnificent rage Borkul charged at the Avatar as he turned his back for a swing. Borkul jumping into the air to bring his weapon over head aiming to cut this man's head clean off at the separation between his helmet and his armor... was shot down in mid air by a single arrow. Who was so skilled as to fire an arrow from the other side of the battlefield? Only the elves were known for such dexterity and skill... Maybe this Avatar truly was the Dark King Derileth, or at least convinced old allies of that name to his cause. Borkul laid there, eyes wide as he stared up at the darkened sky. The shot having hit him in the left pectoral... Probably pierced his heart... With only seconds to spare Borkul choose to die a warriors death, grabbing his weapon and placing it on his chest as he started to slip from consciousness. But a warriors death would not grace Borkul that day. Lucky for him the arrow had just missed his heart even luckier a caravan of dark elf gypsies was going around looting the now barren corpse filled battle field. Unlucky for Borkul was that this arrow was more then a simple arrow, a rather dark and potent magic upon it that was meant to torment. Borkul let out a blood curdling cry as the arrow sent surges of pain that could only be described as a fire igniting inside of his body. This got the attention of the corpse looting dark elves that came to find a Half Orc still alive. Quick to take him with them as they moved on. Between the searing pain and complete and utter urge to end his life to escape it, Borkul was stuck bound to the floor of a caravan as two Dark Elves seemed to never leave his side. If he could comprehend anything other then the pain that coursed through his body he would have been able to recognize dark magic when he saw it, but he was in no way able to protest right now as they marked his body with different runic symbols and paints. Later they would tell him that the arrow he was shot with had been cursed, meant to rob the honor bound Orcish race of their glorious deaths and give a life of torture. Many Orcs choosing suicide, the most shameful of escapes. Luckily a number of the gypsies spoke more then their own native tongues, hell they had to be since they functioned as traveling entertainers and merchants. So for the next six years Borkul learned and lived with these gypsies. Traveling the kingdom in pursuit of riches and adventure. It was no gratifying victory of carnage that Borkul favored, but such tasks brought new found emotions that Borkul began to enjoy. Many seasons he was able to join the Dark Elves in their tree villages in the forests of Kithenica, and under the guidance and training of the great assassins of these forests did Borkul learn to strike true instead of just striking hard. Unfortunately Half Orcs weren't able to manipulate magic, but their concoctions and devices of misdirection Borkul adapted, their very technical and precise combat styles he mastered, and above all else their level headedness in the heat of battle. Well... That last lesson was still a challenge for Borkul, but the power to harness his blood lust and keep a level head in combat... That was a skill that no half orc or even orc had ever mastered, or even tried to master. It was this skill that he continued to train in, this skill that one day he would use to exact revenge upon everyone and everything that had ruined his people. And so, leaving his new family Borkul embarked on his own journey. A mercenary for hire that met every job and challenge with the end of his blade. Growing stronger and stronger with each passing day. GearWeapons A long sword that is better describe as a cleaver that has been sharpened and refined. Jagged edges meant to saw through flesh and bone like twigs and paper. A magical suit of Elvish armor that can actually retract to be nothing more then a plated belt, but with just a thought, and a fully charged rune stone, it can contour to the body and have a full set of armor equipped and ready for battle in seconds. The armor has two settings, one a set of heavy plate for full on wafare, and a set that produces less plates for a stealthier much more maneuverable set of armor. KinksDesires Dark Elves are the favorite race to mate with. Major kinks includes cream pieing human females for the chance to continue the Orcish race. Women performing BallTesticle worship never hurts either! Goals Kill any goblin that dares to show it's face, run through any Zartoshts that dare cross his path, all the while honing his skills so that if he ever met Derileth or the Avatar or whatever the hell would claim to be that abomination.. That he could mount it's head on a pike and show what Orcish might truly is. Alignment Chaotic Neutral