About MudurDescription:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------- Biography:
Mudur may have left the arena, but the arena will never leave him. The chains that once held him captive are now the tools with which he sets souls free.The outside world was something of a wonder to Mudur, for about three days, then the shine quickly wore off. Here he could not simply kill the unlawful. The wretched were not brought to the arena for his judgement, they were allowed to roam free. So Mudur brought the arena to them. When the watch of lesser men was lax, and crime ran rampant in the streets, Mudur descended. The thieves and murderers of the towns were used to the tactics of the guards, they were used to law and the protection it afforded them,but the Arena had taught Mudur that only the survivor was free of guilt. So he fought, day and night, with the vagabonds of the city, and proved the weight of each man's sin. After many months of spreading the arena's justice Mudur came across a thief assaulting a young girl in the night. The girl fought hard, but she was no match for the larger man. This was not justice, the people he killed in the arena had made their choices, they had performed unspeakable acts and were brought to him to answer for their crimes. They were guilty because they were dead. But this girl, she was no warrior, no murderer or thief. Mudur had seen her in the town for some weeks now. Gathering water, singing to herself,sowing her families darned clothes. She had seen him once, seen him and smiled. Mudur had been given many things in his life, and taken even more, but never once had he received a smile. He descended silently from his shadowy perch and snuck up behind the girls attacker. Her desperate sobbing pleas went silent as she saw the shadow of a monster rise behind the thief. Her sudden silence unnerved her assailant and the thief turned to see the half-orc looming close. The thief opened his mouth but Mudur silenced him with a glare. "Retributions is the sharpest blade of all. Can you turn it away?" he rumbled as the chains of his former slave-hood uncoiled from around his arms. Confusion turned to fear in the thief's eyes, but they quickly steeled. Mudur knew that look, the look of a trapped beast trying desperately to survive. This man would do anything to escape the half-orc, but so did they all. The thief threw a dagger at Mudur's face,sloppily. The former gladiator dodged quickly and the knife went wide of its mark. The thief had missed on purpose, using the knife as a distraction to escape onto the roofs, or at least that was his plan. The hooded coward scrambled nimbly up the first story of thenearby house-front, only to feel his foot catch on something. He looked down and caught a metallic glint of an iron in the moonlight.His eyes followed the tether from his ankle, out into the open air, and directly back to Mudur's scowling face. He began to shriek in horror, but only for the briefest of moments, before a sharp tug from the arena champion brought him crashing to the dirt street below.He started to beg as Mudur walked toward him, the scoundrel pleaded, insisting his innocence and pissing himself. The stream of nonsense was cutoff at the source when the half-orc wrapped his chain around the liars neck and crushed his windpipe.He looked down and nodded grimly, satisfied with the limp sack of flesh on the ground before him. The townswoman's mysterious rescuer wound his gently clinking chains around his thick arms with practiced ease before turning to stride towards the mouth of the alley. A small voice rang clear in the night behind him. "Thank you" the girl whispered around her own fear. He grunted back at her over his shoulder."I do not seek thanks for doing what should be done. You gave me a gift. I desired to give you one as well." He turned to her then, and did something he had never done before. He smiled. It felt strange and, judging by the girls face, looked even stranger. She did not smile back, merely whispered one last question. "What are you?" "Murder" he replied, through tusks and an unfamiliar grin. "Mudur?" she questioned, confused by the odd name, but he was already gone. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------- History: Unbeknownst to him Mudur is actually the bastard child of Grask Uldeth, the closest thing to a leader that the Hold of Belkzen possesses. During one of the many bloody battles perpetrated by the great orc lord he was wounded by a beautiful human mage. Outraged by her opposition, but intrigued by her strength, Grask kept her as an amusing plaything for some time before sending her to the arena pits. Unbeknownst to him the mage was carrying his child at the time of her exile. For many long months she fought in the pits, using her magic and wits to survive. When she finally gave birth to Mudur, the poor living conditions, mental anguish and physical strain of the entire ordeal killed her before she got a chance to name or hold her son. The offspring of an Orc Barbarian and a Human Mage, Mudur was born a Rageblood, which is likely the only reason he survived. In the pits, criminals, outcasts, prisoners of war, and anyone else the Orcs don't like are forced to fight one another to the death for the amusement of others. Mudur lived quietly for a time after his birth thanks to the kindness of other arena attendants and slaves, but once he grew older and more imposing, he could no longer escape the watchful eye of the arena's patriarch. Soon he was forced into battle himself, under the assumption that he would be killed, saving anyone the cost or time it took to raise a forgotten bastard of unknown lineage. But time and again, Mudur proved impossible to kill. The crowds of the arena pits came to know and respect Mudur. As he continued to cut his bloody path through the enemies of Hold Belkzen, they began to revere him as their champion and the slayer of evil. Mudur knew only of himself what others had told him, having no family to rely upon, and so when the denizens of Urgir called him the bringer of justice and slayer of the wicked, he believed them. For a time he was happy in the arena. All of his base needs were satisfied. He slept, he ate, he killed, but as he grew in strength, he began to tire of his lot. He tired of fighting on the same field, against the same types of foe. He tired of always winning. He appealed to the pit arena's patriarch, asking to be released so that he may slay the foe's of all people and bring the arena's justice to the world, but his request was denied. So Mudur did what they had trained him to do when an obstacle stood in his way...he killed...and then he escaped. Now he travels the land seeking to bring the arena to those evils that could not be brought to him. Stats: HP| 11
Walk| 20ft
SKILLS
Melee Attack Bonus| +5 = 1(base)+4(stat)
WEAPONS
ARMOR
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