Dur'rok Stone-Eater's page

As an orc, Dur'rok has Orc Ferocity and can make one more action on his turn before falling unconscious.

Dur'rok looks down at his abdomen. The hole in his chest wheezes as he breathes, and another attack opened his belly so his intestines try to push their way out. He clutches them with his left hand and scowls. "Killed by a gnoll...F@~@ing pitiful."

Before he drops, Dur'rok makes one last strike at the gnoll that killed him.

Attack (Unarmed): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10
Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

He misses again. "I f!*~ing...deserve...this." Dur'rok falls onto his back, hand clutching the worms trying to crawl out of his midsection.

The gnoll's spear breaks through Dur'rok's ribs and pierces into his lungs. He grits his teeth in pain and blood trickles from his lips, and it's as though he erupts in a explicit, violent fury. "You g**&#!n f$~@ing piece of s@$&, I'll beat your ugly f*+*ing head in and s+*! down your throat!"

Attack (Unarmed): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13
Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

Flurry of Blows (Unarmed): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13
Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

Dur'rok begins to swing at the Gnoll. His strikes are a blur of so quick they're a blur of fists and elbows.

Attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12
Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

Attack (Flurry of Blows): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9
Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

"Well f*!& me, my wish came true."

Dur'rok springs to his feet, excited that the fight has finally come after days of waiting.

moves towards the nearest gnoll (that is not currently targeted by another character), his large hands balled into tight fists.

"This one's mine! I'm going skull f#&& you with these hands, you rat f+~*."

Dur'rok has spent the last ten minutes applying poisons and filth to his blades - the shuriken and axe knuckles. The concoction smells so bad that those around him begin to wonder if he is smearing them with s+@# or bile.

I don't actually have poisons right now, so this will just be flavor until I can afford some.

He looks annoyed by the others having a normal discussion.

"The f!$~ are you two fairies on about? Some mystical namby-pamby b!&!!@*#, no doubt. I'll tell you why tonight's different: it's the last night those furry-cocked m$!@$!*$%#!#s spend on this planet before we wipe them from existence."

He takes another deep swig from his grog. "You pussies want to survive the battle, stick on my heels like s@!% on a leaf."

"I should be in the Gnoll camp right now. I could kill their leaders in their sleep." Dur'rok takes a deep swill of his grog. The taste is harsh, fiercely alcoholic.

And I would be, too, if Gulrog didn't order me to stay. "I can't risk it" he says. "I can't risk a mistake, not now." The High Warlord has grown soft. No need for all to risk their lives - I could end this myself.

Dur'rok never was modest or humble. But he was always mean, bloodthirsty, and looking for an edge against his brothers.

I should kill Gulrog in his sleep. Then I'd be free to infiltrate their camp at will, and would be named High Warlord when I returned victorious.

"You rely on your weapons, Ma'greh. I will kill more with my bare hands than you with your steel."

Dur'rok Stone-Eater checking in.

An assassin with very little regard for life, but a fierce devotion to his family. Dur'rok is power-hungry, and willing to kill anyone who gets in his way. (Except children. He will not kill children, but he does not shield or help them either).

Dur'rok thinks those who rely on big heavy weapons hide behind them, and believes they are only powerful as a result of their implements.

The orc was eleven when he first killed another, and has killed a great many since. He has no honor, and will just as soon poison an enemy as he will beat them to death with his heavy, calloused hands.

He is covered in scars from battle and his own making.

Threats and curse words run from his mouth like a river - and his threats are not to be taken lightly.