Drath Ironmaw's page

The Ironmaw tribe of Belkzen Hold was a collection of some the fiercest, strongest, most bloodthirsty, and above all else, some of the dumbest orcs that had ever gathered in the known world. A society that consisted of nothing but warriors, scavengers and bandits, the Ironmaws took what they could not make, and somehow managed to survive. It was into this tribe that Drath Ironmaw was born. His father, Galnak Ironmaw, was one of the tribe's mightiest warriors, and due to his strength, he was allowed to choose from any woman the tribe possessed to make his mate. So he chose Drath's mother, whose name he never learned. A lesser Chelaxian noblewoman who had been kidnapped from her home, she had given up hope that she would ever be rescued. As far as the Ironmaws went, or even as far as orcs went, Galnak wasn't a bad partner. He didn't beat her or treat her poorly, and protected her from the rest of the tribe. Sadly, it was the proof of their relationship that ended it: the woman died giving birth to Drath. It was immediately apparent that Drath was different from the rest of the orcs, but they could not manage to figure out how or why. The bony growths on his brown that you might call horns, his sharp fingernails, his bright amber eyes, none of these could be accounted for by the tribe. Not even their Great Shaman Bazur could divine why he was as he was. But Drath was born a being whose blood hummed with the power of infernal creatures. Not knowing any better, however, the Ironmaws treated him as a normal half-orc; that is, poorly. It was only due to his great strength and fortitude that Drath not only survived his youth, but thrived.

Drath eventually ingratiated himself among the tribe, making a handful of friends. The pair of "pale runt orcs," Quomaugh and Xoruk, were chief among them. A pair of dwarves that had been found as children around the same time Drath was born, and adopted by Bazur the Scarred, the chief of the Ironmaw, they also experienced the same kind of discrimination that the half-orc had. The three were nearly inseparable, save when they were being trained by their respective superiors. This is not to say they got along well, however. In typical orc fashion, the only form of interaction the three knew was fighting. Quomaugh and Drath would always bludgeon each other senseless, while Xoruk would have to bind their wounds. A good number of the ragged scars that cover Drath's body were inflicted on him by Quomaugh, but they are simply badges of honor to the half-orc. And when Drath discovered his mother's Asmodean prayer brook and began praying to the God-fiend, it was Xoruk who tattooed a blood red pentagram on his right shoulder.

As the years passed, the three mismatched "orcs" grew stronger and made names for themselves among the rest of the tribe. Quomaugh soon began to approach Krugg, his master, in sheer fortitude. Xoruk's body began to take on all the ritual scarring that Bazur had, his arcane powers growing with each new gash. Drath, however, lagged behind his adopted tribesmen. His father's might and reckless abandon did not quite mesh with the half-orc. To be sure, he became strong and wild, using his anger and frustration to become a mighty warrior. But while his father could become fury unleashed, Drath was simply a well-trained fighter. This vexed the young man, but he worked to become a worthy successor to his father. The three's daily routine of training, sparring and eating continued for quite some time.

However, it would not last. When Drath was in his mid-twenties, there came a day when his normal, raucous life fell apart. It was the day that Kilg Bloodletter, known as the Clanslayer, arrived in the Ironmaws' lands. Sadly, the Ironmaws had no clue who this black-armored orc was, nor that he had destroyed numerous tribes throughout the Inner Sea. He swept in like a storm and challenged Bazur and Krugg to combat, with the tribe's strongest warriors on the line. Drath and his companions could only watch in horror as Kilg's martial might and unholy magics slew the two dwarves' mentors, then other Ironmaw warriors who attempted to take revenge. Nearly all of those who could fight were slain, but the three friends knew that they were no match for Kilg. When the dust had settled, more than half of the Ironmaw's men were dead. Bloodletter mounted each slain warrior's head on a pike and left them as a reminder of his visit. And, as simply as he came, he was gone.

It was now that something snapped inside Drath. With his only family dead, the rest of his tribe dead or stricken with grief at their loss, and his complete powerlessness to stop it overwhelming him, Drath began to roar. He shouted, he hollered, and he raged. His anger began to spill out of him. It was so thick in the air that even those around him began to become furious. Somewhere, deep within the half-orc, he discovered what he was missing from his training with his father: his voice. His anger and frustration given form, his yells and screams and commands set him, and everyone around him, into a great fury. This was the moment when the young man became a skald. Realizing that his voice could lead to the rest of the tribe destroying itself in anger and grief, he gathered what meager belongings he and Galnak had and left the Ironmaws, never to return. The half-orc only rarely hears tell of what has happened to his fellow tribesmen, but he knows the rest of them went their separate ways, as well.

For the next several years, Drath traveled between all kinds of places in the Inner Sea. He encounters little other than prejudice during his journey, both because of his markings of infernal heritage, and for being a half-orc. He manages to eke out a living as a mercenary, but it is hardly enough to survive on, and thus he continues to wander the globe. He finds food and shelter is more or lesser degrees everywhere he goes, but the whole experience makes him even stronger. Now a master of the arts of the warchanter, he is able to whip whole bands of men into a battle rage, and thus, he is tolerated in small armies and bandit groups. They never last for long, however, and the half-orc is left traveling alone yet again.

Through this exile's pilgrimage, Drath has found himself in the town of Torch mostly through happenstance. His first task upon entering the town was to seek out any jobs that need doing, and he's found no lack of them, here.

Drath is a hulking mountain of a man. With deep olive skin and long, black hair, the half-orc is very striking. Heavily muscled, and with tattoos scrawled on his body (including a large, upside-down red pentagram on his right shoulder) he looks every bit an orcish warrior. Though he is not a tiefling, he still bears some infernal traits from his mother's consorting with devils. He has small black horns, sharp and elongated nails, glowing amber eyes and abnormally sharp tusks.

Because of his size and strange appearance, Drath is very intimidating to most people. Due to this, the half-orc man was generally very withdrawn, until he found his calling as a skald. On the battlefield, his loud voice and mighty presence have led many men to bloodshed and glory. He is supremely confident in his ability to lead and inspire others in the thick of battle. However, for all his charisma and swagger, the man is very much a mountain. He is both rather slow of body and mind, so he must generally find a way to overcome such handicaps with his prodigious strength.

Despite his worship of the God-Fiend, Drath is not an inherently evil fellow. Being raised in a chaotic orc tribe has left him craving the order of society, the warmth of community, and the strength of law. The fact that he'd like to be the head of that society, for better or worse, can be debated, however.

Portrait of Drath.