The following interview with Jarl Rukk, the newest Linnorm King, was transcribed and translated from orcish to Taldan for publication in the latest Chronicle The Pathfinder and legendary scribe Tassel Packbearer sat down with the Jarl in his great hall in the Stormspear Mountains.
Let's get started with an easy one. Why are you a Pathfinder?
When I was younger, it was only the glory of battle that fueled me. Bravado drove me into many battles, even within others in my clan, and it wasn't long before I no longer had a place with them. Rather than slay me, I was ambushed in the night and abandoned the day after. My feet carried me to the Kellid lands, and it was there I met a strange traveler.
He was Taldan and had the look of someone who had seen all the world had to offer, his name was Cassius Hale. Over the next few months he tempered my fury, and told me of the greater world. The druid came from a place called Absalom, and was a Captain of an organization of misfits called the Pathfinders. He told me that wayward souls from all reaches of the Inner Sea live there, and if I so chose, there would be a place for me at the City at the Center of the World. I thanked him for this chance and headed south, to make a name for myself.
Speaking of your name, how did you come by it? Does it mean anything?
I have forgotten my orcish name, I will not bear the name of the cowards that rejected me, the Jarl spits on the ground with this proclamation. Until I met Cassius, I did not need a one. When Cassius asked for mine, I told him I was in need of a new one. He called me Rukk, after the bird that is wise and free, and flys high enough to see the world for what it is. Sitting before the Jarl, and noting the massive linnorm head hanging on the wall behind him, I decided it unwise to correct his spelling of 'Rook,' the small ravenlike birds common to the Inner Sea.
You mentioned travelling as a youth, what nation did you start your journey in? How did this nation influence you?
I was born into the Icetusk clan in the Realm of the Mammoth Lords. It is a harsh, unforgiving land that made me into the King you now see before you. I would thank my clan for abandoning me were I to see them once more, but I heard that with the expansion of the Worldwound last year much of the northern hinterlands were lost to demons. I do not know if they now survive. Jarl Rukk looks past me, to the doors of his great hall for a moment, as if expecting them to arrive at any moment. The moment passes, and he presses me to continue my questions.
I notice you carry many trophies on your person, where are they all from?
Hah! There are too many to count. I will tell you of my favorite ones though, since you asked. The Jarl wears a ceremonial white cape, made from the fur of a wolf. I took this hide from a wolf that walked in the form of a woman. It was during my campaign into Irrisen, the lands of the witches. I challenged her to solitary combat and she agreed. I honor her death and our battle with this fur. Aside from the cape, Rukk bears countless scars, minor tribal tattoos, and straps of leather that serves as clothing. Only a kilt and fur-lined boots cover his skin in any significant fashion. A single golden loop hangs from a string around his neck. He lifts the ring and addresses it. This is from my ex-wife, Eliandra. It is there to remind me that trust given unwisely is easily broken, and, the Jarl let's loose a wry smile, that people are capable of change.
Speaking sentimentally, is there anyone that you love now?
Not as you suggest, no. But I am blessed by my daughter, Raine. She does her father proud.
Is she the daughter of your first marriage?
No, no. I first met Raine when she was five, being held for torture or death by a group of trolls during my second campaign into Irrisen. My team and I freed her and the other children. While the rest huddled for safety in the bosoms of my companions, she picked up the sword of her former captor and delivered the final blow to his cowering body. I took her home with me, and raised her in these wilds. Although she has much to learn, I hope that one day she will travel with the Pathfinders and, when the day comes that I leave this world, take up my throne here.
On the other end of things, what do you hate more than anything?
Deceit. Lying and double-talk are agents of mistrust and have no place among honest people. The Jarl spits with contempt. Those not genuine in my presence rarely make the same mistake twice.
You have had a storied career as a Pathfinder, but surely no Pathfinder travels alone. Which among your companions has had the most effect on your success.
There have been dozens, to be sure, but there are a few I would like to name. First is Salurial, my right hand. Honest to a fault and braver than I. Given strength by the gods, he is a crusader without equal. I've heard his exploits extolled far and wide, even to the lands of Tian Xia and beyond. Second is my herald, Jonas. He carries the banner of House Rukk and was at my side through the Society's darkest hour. Jarl Rukk frowns, clearly referring to the events now known as the "Eyes of the Ten Incident." I know of no one better to support me and other Pathfinders to come than Jonas Vividsun. Lastly is Eliandra Azucar. Although the separation was difficult, I cannot deny that her knowledge of Absalom is unsurpassed, as is her understanding of politics there. A master of the blade and stealth, the Society is lucky to have her.
You have been judged by your orc heritage, yet you regarded them earlier in not so kind terms. Would you like to expand?
Gladly. As a "mutt-race," as some have said, I've been disregarded and mistreated my entire life, even by members of the Society. Yet I have overcome. To others that share my burden, to those that are different, let me tell you know that what you are born is does not define what you are capable of. If you wish glory and honor, you need but claim it for yourself. To do otherwise only enforces the stereotypes that others use to keep us in check. Those that slander want us to fail because they are afraid of what we can achieve. So I say to you now—make them afraid and claim your own throne! Jarl Rukk stands and roars in my direction, crushing the wine glass as he makes a fist. The outburst echoes through the vast chamber and it takes him a few seconds to calm down. He then quickly apologizes for letting his anger get the best of him and sits back down, pulling shards from his hand as we continue. I do not notice any blood.
I notice the next question asks about his fears and phobias, but given our encounter so far, I think it wise to skip it and move on.
We finish these interviews by asking what your prized possession is. Given this hall alone, I imagine the decision is a tough one.
Hardly. The half-orc snorts, My daughter is the only thing that matters in the end. Given enough time, the giants will return and tear down these walls. My banner will fall and the name on it will be forgotten. Even this Chronicle you are writing for will cease to exist. But my teachings will live on in my child. If I have raised her well, she will do the same for her children. This is the greatest treasure I have.
Our interview ends with the Jarl thanking me for my time and walking me to the front doors. He offers me some furs for the long journey back to Absalom, and assigns a couple of guards to accompany me down from the Mountains and out of giant territory. Given the warmth of his hall, I'm sorry to see it fade out of view as we descend.
- T. Packbearer
