Being raised among the savage tribes of jungle-dwelling orcs is enough to turn anyone's blood black and foster bitterness, especially for a half-breed. Noirak was one such individual, always struggling against the brutality of his kin.
Every day that innocents were slaughtered or another dark deed was done without reason or repercussion, the young warrior questioned the ideals of his people. He resolved to make a change if he could, hoping the day was fast approaching where he would have a chance to make a stand for his guarded beliefs of honor. It did and would alter his life in a manner unthinkable.
A hunting party had been sent out, searching for prey among the shadows cast by the leafy canopy. The half-orc among them, he assumed their quarry would be little more than the tribe's dinner, caught late that night. The dancing light of a torch in the dark ahead soon dashed his hopes, though he secretly prayed for its owner to be something monstrous and deserving of a brutal death. Circling the clearing, the band of orcs set its sights on a pair of gnomes and to Noirak's growing dread he saw that one was a young girl. Stunned, the rest of his kin swooped down upon them, spears drawn.
The older of the two small folk was an explorer and came to chart the wild lands that the tribe inhabited. He pleaded with the party's leader for mercy as he was forced to the ground. Bawling, the little girl, assumed to be the others granddaughter, kicked and spat at the other orcs. One picked her up with vile intent in his eyes and all around the clearing the sure sound of a snapping bone echoed. Seeing the depravity of his so-called brothers at its worse, the half-orc's blood boiled and he charged into one of the laughing brutes, swinging his sword in wild fury.
One-by-one, he hewed and hacked at his tribe members until only their leader was left. Noirak's primal rage left him fatigued as he dropped to his knees before the massive orc, hoping that the deaths of the trespassing gnomes might be swift despite his actions. Taking its spear, his enemy drew a jagged mark across the half-orc's brow and kicked him to the dirt, then raising his weapon for the final kill. What he heard next was not the sound of a jagged spear head running him through but a loud bang that shook birds from their trees and resounded throughout the jungle.
The towering orc above him staggered forward with horror in its eyes and a trickle of blood from its mouth. As it fell, the gnome stood in its wake, looking surprised at the monster's smoking back. Trembling, the elderly fellow dropped the flintlock pistol that he held forward in both hands. He then warily looked to his daughter then back at Noirak before rushing to her side. In the days ahead, the half-orc would find acceptance among the estranged explorer and took on the role of guardian over his granddaughter. The gnome took him back to the city in which he owned wealth and a fine estate and began to teach his savior about civilization.
When the elderly gnome did pass on (for he was already quite old), he left his estate and the entirety of his wealth to the half-orc who was to watch over it until his granddaughter came of age. Many of the family members were shocked and outraged at this but neither the heiress or her steward have taken any mind. Now, when not looking over the young woman, the half-orc travels to take care of any business the well-known explorer had left unexpectedly behind.
