Gragmorgra

## Personality

Boisterous, energetic, and cheerful; everyone in the room is happier when the old Shaman joins in the conversation. A respected member of the tribe and a visionary of forward progress, Gragmorgra is always doing his best to forge a brighter future for The Whip Tails Tribe!

Yet his spark for life and joyful personality have lost a little bit of shine in recent moons. His jokes are half hearted, his wisdom a little dull, and his optimism is shaken; ever since he lost his family.

## Appearance

He walks with a deep hunch, doubled over from a bad back and weak knees. His gate is slow and careful, leaning on his staff with his eyes always distant in contemplation. His body his scarred from a lifetime of fighting, and in his twilight years he takes his time walking the village. He doesn't go on raids anymore, and sits by Chief Chuu as his trusted adviser.

If he his not smiling and giving sage advice to the people of his tribe, he is alone in his hut, staring into a polished obsidian orb and using his powers of scrying and divination. But he does not use these powers to see the future... such a power is not available to him. Instead he uses it to see into the distance, and to ruminate on the past.

## Background

When the crops dried up, and the hardships began to start, Gragmorgra did his best to keep up morale for his people in good condition. He held regular public communes with the spirits, foretold of better days ahead, and was always reminding the people to stay strong and move forward. Then his beloved wife, Neechu, passed away from illness.

The old shaman did everything he could to save her, every medicine he knew, every spell and prayer he could try... but it wasn't enough.

Then the hardships became worse, raids started to go bad, villagers were going missing, and their luck was running low. Rumors spread that the misfortune was a curse, a magical and spiritual attack from outside the tribe! Gragmorgra vowed to find the source of such an assault, but bad luck would soon turn on his home as Gekori's Ritual of Passage took a turn for the strange.

Gekori's hair was shaved off, in accordance with tradition for an orc passing from childhood into adulthood, but her hair did not last long enough to be braided and displayed. The hair turned to ashes, and her bald head sprouted more hair, now wild and moving on its own! Gragmorgra tried to explain that this was just a sign of her magical talents, but the people of the tribe saw this as an ill omen! Soon the rumors darkened, turning against his daughter and blaming her for the villages' torment!

As more villagers passed away from badly executed raids or illness, the more the village turned on Gekori. The old father would try his best to protect her, to push away the mobs of angry orcs, and calm down the growing number of scared humans. It was not enough, and the unrest grew so out of control that Chief Chuu took a stand.

Gekori was sentenced to be executed for the crime of witchcraft!

But Gragmorgra stepped in, and begged his chief to see his daughter as innocent! It must have been the curse'd sun that was bring these plagues of bad fortune on their people! But the Chief would not listen, the people were furious and scared, and peace would not return to their community as long as Gekori was among them. So the old father used all his political clout to have the sentence changed. He demanded that Gekori be banished from the village and into the wilderness, never to return. His demands were heeded, and Chief Chuu decreed that she would leave their tribe forever.

The old orc's heart broke that day, when he watched his only daughter get chased from her home. He had failed as a shaman, as a husband, and now as a father.

Gragmorgra, to this day, will claim that the curse'd sun is what brought misfortune onto his people, and every day he talks about his plans to build a tower tall enough to stab it.

But deep in his heart he knows the truth, he blames himself for not saving Neechu, he blames himself for not protecting Gekori; and every day he sits alone in his hut, using his magic to scry.

He watches his daughter from afar, unable to stop himself from worrying about her, and cursing himself for all the sins he has yet to atone for. His life is now in a deep haze; clouded by feelings of painful regret, and ruinous nostalgia.

## Equipment

* Old robes with countless charms, trinkets, and symbols.
* Staff Of Elders, passed down in long memory.
* Old doll, a memory of happier times.

## Quotes

"Beware of the witch in the swamps. If you see her, stay as far away as you can. And if she attacks, you run!” ~Told to the party

"Rocks cannot reach it, Javelins cannot touch it, but one day I shall build a tower... HUNDREDS of feet high! So that I might climb up to the sun, and Stab It With A Spea--AAH MY EYES!!! AAAH.. Oooooo! Ooouch... curse'd sun... curse'd sun..." ~Don't look directly at the sun, kids.