Mordeznush's page

About Mordeznush

Appearance Mordeznush stands at an imposing 6'6" and weighs 170lbs. Despite his rather light weight, he is incredibly strong, as well as durable and flexible. His physique, while seeming somewhat narrow, is quite reminiscent of his orcish heritage, with utterly bulging muscles, thick skin, and a stance that is ready for violence at a moments notice. Mor's skin is odd though, being of a near perfect pitch black, only interrupted by the extensive amounts of ritual scarification and tattoos. Mor's bright purple eyes shine with something much more fearsome than his own strength, a mind of brilliance, several stripes of a sickly purple seem to sprout from under the sooty black mass of his hair. Mor tends to smell of various alchemical tonics, ingredients, and burning.

Armor Mor wears what can only be described as a bastardization of traditional Tien-Xia leather lamellar armor. The armor looks of a mishmash of mismatched leathers strapped together in jagged rectangles to form a light armor capable of repelling attacks more so than the average suit of leather armor. Mor wears thick leather pants alongside his armor, and heavy steel-toed boots. His backpack appears to be brimming with assorted gear, and his heavy flail rests cross-wise on his back.

Personality Imagine a Half-Orc raised in Orc society, now imagine that said Half-Orc on possesses a shred of the humanity that was likely wrongfully forced into his bloodline. Now imagine said Half-Orc has grown accustomed to using both strength and guile to achieve what he has, and eked out a "life" in one of the most dangerous settlements in Belkzen. That would be Mor in short. While it may take a little more than a few insults to provoke him, once he is angry there's little stopping him from crushing you, and if he can be held back, he will scheme a way to get back at you for slighting him. He has little concept of true companionship, only working with those of the Pathfinder Society to further his own goals. He is best left out of proper social settings and is better at figuring his way through a dusty tomb or a murky cave for some relic or historical discovery.

History Born into the tribe currently holding Deepgate, Mor quickly came to understand that might made right, and as he was still considered a half-breed (even though he is 1/32 human), as well as a freak for his starkly black skin, he found himself at the wrong end of the ire of family and tribe. This didn't dissuade him or break him, instead he toughened himself through rigorous exercise (and labor), as well as honed his mind, as, unlike his Orcish kin, Mor was gifted with a brilliant mind.

Mor found that the traditional weapons of Orcs were ill suited to him, with the inelegant strikes of greataxes seeming too clumsy, and the skill required to make efficient use of a falchion too time consuming. He quickly discovered that the brutal yet elegant force of a heavy flail was more in-line with his abilities, and began making wicked use of it in training yards as well as against the frequent skirmishes with rival Orc tribes or encroaching Darklands forces.

By age 14 Mor had seen more combat than many others his age in Golarion, and held a rather impressive (for a half-breed freak) kill count. He had also discovered that he wasn't inclined towards the thoughtless rages that his kin often exhibited in combat. Instead he sought greater strength in the form of alchemy, brewing crude extracts and mutagens to greater enhance his strength and combat prowess.

Upon the eve of his 18th summer, Mor witnessed something that rattled his perception on life; a lone Human, wielding a blade and a sword, cutting his way through any Orc foolish to oppose him as he made his way across the Orcish lands. Mor decided to abandon his home and family, taking all that he could, whether or not it was his, and followed the human, curious to see what sort of strength could allow one pinkskin cut his way through the masses of Orc warriors. The two eventually left Orc lands, Mor carefully following this human, whose conviction to his god allowed him such strength, into Ustalav and eventually to a small village known as Cragshade.

There Mor hid in an outlying shack that had been abandoned, and watched the human as he settled. Mor eventually came to be discovered by the town and found a business in creating minor alchemical remedies and tools for the residents. But this didn't last long. A few years later the human returned after leaving his home in the night, a young child in his arms and a Halfing and Wayang following him. Mor eventually learned through whispers that the man's son had been killed in a failed experiment of a mad scientist's lab.

The human, as well as the two small beings departed about a week and a half later, and Mor followed once again, keeping his distance, but making sure to observe as the human cut down any creature that opposed him, often with a look of righteous fury in his eyes. Mor still couldn't understand how such an old pinkskin could accomplish such feats of strength and courage, always having been taught that little could best an Orc in pure fury and raw power in combat. Several months passed as the four travelled through Lastwall and Nirmathas into Varisia, and finally arriving in Magnimar. By the time they had arrived Mor's following had been detected by the Halfling, and Mor was brought into the fold of the group. The four applied to join the Pathfinder Society, though Mor joined only to potentially make use of the Society to allow himself to grow in strength so as to return to Belkzen and create a tribe of his own.