Groose Ordon

The winds were strong that day. The smell of it all was just wrong even from the beginning of it. Groose woke up with a yawn and a stretch. He hopped out of bed and stepped out into the common room of his family's hut. His mother was most likely out gathering berries and nuts for a morning meal. Father was out on patrol with other warriors of the Hojo tribe. Groose threw on his tunic and walked out of the hut into the crisp air of the forest. He could sense the looming gloom in the air. The skies above were gray. Today was going to be a bad day.

The din of swords clashing rang out all throughout the wood. The bodies of tribesman and their elvish allies were strewn all about. Groose ran as fast as he could, the words of his father ringing in his head. “You find your mother! You find her and you get out of the woods!” Small skirmishes flashed in the corners of his vision. The goblinkin bounded upon the tribe with a ferocity Groose had never seen. He had never seen such numbers of their kind and he had always underestimated them. Fear welled up in his heart and pushed him on. He threw open the cover to his family's hut and the world froze. Goblins stood over two unmoving figures covered in blood and gore. When they pulled away from her and readied their weapons, Groose saw the bodies of his mother and his sister staring up at him with dead eyes. Parts of them hung from the goblins gritted teeth as they moved aggressively towards him.

His limited training took over. He grabbed up his wooden practice sword from its place besides the entry and charged in, slashing about at the handful of green faces and yellow eyes. It would seem luck and the element of surprise lead him to victory. The goblins were bested. He spent only a few moments standing over his dead family. The thought of the last moments he saw his father flashed into his mind and he knew this fate was his as well. He grabbed what things he could. During his search for provisions, he found his father's warrior shield. It seemed he had not taken it on patrol this day. He took it up and quickly ran out into the woods, his face covered in sweat, goblin blood, and tears. The last of the Hojo escaped with his life.

After running forever, Groose stopped and sat down on an old log. He wiped his face gathered himself as best he could, but bouts of crying continued and images of what had just happened persisted in his ten-year old mind. *What if father had had his shield? He would've been able to save everyone.* The quiet of the forest blew away at the sound of an old man screaming. "Helllllp!!! Help meeee!!! Ouch! Won't somebody stop them!? Ow! Ow! Help... Somebody! Can't anybody hear me?" Groose stood and ready his wooden sword and dashed to the sound. An old man buckled under the weight of his fear as two goblins slashed out at him. He crawled back against a large tree. One goblin picked up a well-made sword in its scabbard and started looking it over greedily. Groose snapped into action and jumped between the two goblins and the old man.

His wooden sword came against the wicked curved swords of the goblins, but he deflected each blow and returned each attack with one of his own. Soon enough, the two goblins were knocked out and left there. Groose looked to the old man. “You saved my life, boy. For that, my life is yours. Come with me to my home. It looks as if you do not have one of your own.” Groose, saddened, looked away from the old man. He went with the man.

The old man was an old sword sage who had grown so old he could hardly even draw his sword. Despite his poor physical condition, he was able to teach Groose the art of the sword and the mysteries of magic. Groose learned of Mystra, the Mother of All Magic, and began to worship her. The descriptions of the Lady of Spells reminded him of his own mother, who knew so much and taught him what he needed to know. At age fourteen, Groose was quite the accomplished Eldritch Knight. But then, the old man grew so ill he began to leave the material plane. In his last day on this world as a man, the old man gave his sword to Groose. “It's dangerous to go alone! Take this.” He also performed a ritual on his old liberty cap and gave Groose that as well before dying. With the sword and the cap, Groose traveled to the nearest village.

The old man had told Groose to go into the village and find some work. Over the next two years, he became quite the sellsword for one so young. His pointed ears gave many the idea that he was a half-elf, spurned by his family. His vigilance in slaying goblins was unmatched. As Groose doesn't speak too much, many are left with assumptions that are completely unfounded. Groose seeks to achieve a level of glory so that his tribe will be immortalized in song and in book. To do that, he takes on any dangerous task that folks would have done.

Since that time, Groose has become quite the champion for the village. His mastery of the sword and shield, his stalwart defense, and his genuine desire to be the hero of evil's bane make him one of the most called upon and notable heroes of the town.