Ulag was just a young tusker when it happened. He heard the battle cries of his mother and father, as well as the rest of the small but strong Dread Talon Clan. He crept out of their to watch the fight with excitement, as many young orcs do. But this was no tribal raiding party. This was something else entirely.
The creature the clan fought so desperately against was unlike anything he had ever seen. It’s body made no sense, and it was clearly unnatural. It had the strength of five orcs, and it’s claws could rend an orc in half like it was breaking off a turkey leg. It was an impressive, and soul crushing sight to behold as he watched this thing rip his family and tribe apart.
The battle raged for some time, but soon enough, the creature had taken the lives of all the adults in the camp. It then began moving tent to tent, despite it’s heavy wounds, slaughtering what young it could find. By the time it made it’s way to Ulag’s tent, he was certain he was the last. And he didn’t intend to go down without a fight. When it ripped the furs off the frame, Ulag lept out with one of his father’s axes and buried the thing in it’s chest! The creature was clearly caught unawares, and while this last blow proved to be a fatal one, it didn’t bring the beast down fast enough. It swatted Ulag away like a gnat across the common area of the camp and into the side of the cliff’s edge, breaking several ribs and knocking the young orc out cold.
He wasn’t sure how long he was out, but when he did, the buzzards were already feasting on the carcasses strewn about the campsite. Ulag knew he had to move on before something larger came sniffing around, so he took his father’s axe and limped off into the wilderness. There, for the next ten years, he managed to scrape by while also growing stronger. Eventually, though, the risks of living as a clanless orc in the Holds of Belkzen were proving too dangerous, so he made his way somewhere safer: the lands of man.
There, he joined up with a band of thugs and acted as their muscle for about a year before learning of the Worldwound. Hearing of the horrors that sometimes leaked out from that place caused his blood to boil, and he knew that the only way to do right by his fallen Clan was to find this Worldwound and lay low as many of the demon-filth he could before he was killed himself.
But, it seemed this region was under heavy guard and in a near constant state of war by the tribes of men. He knew if he wanted any chance at vengeance, he was going to have to play by their rules, as silly as they might be. So, he spent the next year developing connections and building trust until he was allowed to “tag along” on what these humans called a “crusade” into the lands in the north…
