Zarak Bloodwing's page

Zarak was the product of bored orc warriors from the Irontooth tribe pillaging a settlement, raping the women, and taking prisoners. He never knew his mother – he was later told she was killed shortly after his birth by the chieftain of the orc tribe. He would have been killed too, except the strange birthmark on the baby’s cheek in the symbol of a crossed sword with a crimson wing. The tribe’s shaman, Yezera, interceded and saved his life, convincing the chieftain that Gruumsh had special plans for the child. As a half-breed, he had no rights or status in the orc tribe and he was named Zarak, the orcish term for garbage. His surname, which he did not have, was the result of his tattoo as he was teased by many orcs with the moniker of “Bloodwing”. 13 years into his life, Zarak was developing into a physically strong subject, mostly the result of his servitude to the rest of the tribe and the hard labor and whippings he was forced to endure, primarily at the hand of the chieftain, who enjoyed hurting Yezera’s favorite. Thankfully, Yezera mentored and protected the young child throughout his life and her hut was the only place he ever felt safe. On the night of his 13th birthday, the age at which he was to be officially initiated into the tribe, a pack of demons and cultists ambushed the tribe as they were participating in the ceremony, killing a great deal of the tribe. The chieftain, Dargul Irontooth, escaped the slaughter, but Zarak, Yezera, and a host of orcs were captured by the demons and transported into the Worldwound. When they arrived at their destination, a city-fortress named Drezen, a powerful and evil-looking demonic reptilian female woman with six-arms looked at the bound Zarak and commented to a charismatic tiefling with bat-wings, turning the boy’s face left and right, ”This is what you wanted? He doesn’t look like much. Hope he was worth the trouble. Let me know if the ritual works. I have business to attend to.” With that, the general of the demonic forces left the room, leaving the bound child and his fellow prisoners in the company of the tiefling and his demonic cohorts. Zarak heard the cultists begin to chant and draw demonic symbols on the ground. A fearful and confused Zarak looked to Yezera, ”What is going on? Why did they take us? What ritual?” Yezera, apparently resigned to her fate, looked at the poor half-orc boy with pity, ”Such a fool…body full of muscles but brain still too slow…not us…you! This ritual is all for your sacrifice!” Those words startled the frightened Zarak, beginning to comprehend what was about to happen..”Me! Why me? I am nothing…I am no one…no! My life cannot end here..not after all the suffering I have endured…it was always for a greater cause, you said, Yezera. My pain had to serve a purpose, you said!” With those words spoken, hymnic demonic chants filled the air, drowning out the boy’s indignation. The bat-winged tiefling then began speaking over the chants in an unknown language but after a few minutes, gathered the six other orc prisoners, weapons at their sides but bound, in the center of the room over the drawn symbols, and quoted “The blood of the orcs shall flow”, just was the demons gathered butchered the orcs with their claws. Then the tiefling continued, ”Then the sacrifice shall lose all that is dear to him!” The demons grabbed Yezera, who looked at Zarak with determination in her eyes, before mouthing “I love you, son” to the crying half-orc, who was pleading and screaming to the tiefling to spare her life. The bat-winged tiefling smirked at the boy, nodded to the demons, who then proceeded to behead Yezera right in front of Zarak, blood from her corpse, spraying onto his shocked face. Finally, Zarak was taken to center of the room barefoot, his feet drenched in the orc blood of the recently deceased prisoners. Zarak was in shock….literal shock…he could comprehend what or why this was happening….all he could think of was the death of his “mother” Yezera and the injustice of it all. He was garbage, he was refuse...but her, she had been the light in his life, the comforter, the only person who had shown him any love. And now she was gone, in the most brutal way possible! All for what?! A ritual he neither cared for nor understood! Zarak looked at Yezera’s corpse, looked down at the blood covering his feet….he saw the tiefling mouthing words but he could not hear them. He suddenly felt strong demonic clawed hands on his back and neck pushing him down to his knees and then face first onto the floor, covering his body in blood. He was held there a few second, unable to breathe, suffocating on orc blood as it filled his nostrils. And yet, his mind was on Yezera, his mother for all intensive purposes. He knew he would die this night, of that he was clear. But he would not be the only one. He was propped to his knees by the demons, who released the blood-covered adolescent. Zarak looked at his captors and felt a new sensation…anger and rage bubbling inside like he never felt…the rage that he always contained for fear of reprisal from the orc chieftain….his mind flashed to the whippings, the orc bullying, how it was his fault that Yezera was dead…until he could not contain it any longer and Zarak screamed like never before, surprising the demons surrounding him and the bat-winged tiefling. In that moment of primal rage, the half-orc felt strength felt like he could fly, like he was who he was supposed to be..the rage that he had suppressed all his life fully released and it was joyful and exhilarating all at the same time He sensed strength like never before and he grabbed one of the orcs’ greataxes from the floor, and swung it as hard as he could at the demon next to him! And the strangest thing happened, the blow killed the demon, burning its skin in holy fire! The blood drenched half-orc felt a force guiding him, as he felt at peace and felt a warmth on his cheek where his Bloodwing tattoo is located. Zarak felt like a passenger in his own body as his body was manipulated like a marionette on strings. He cut down another demon and then he fled, when he saw the angry bat-winged tiefling take to the air and start casting spells at him, which he resisted miraculously. Zarak ran, like never before, with speed never before displayed by him, as he sought out the quickest exit from the fortress. His memory blacked out on him and the next thing he knew he was outside of the city walls, running south, the rage gone and exhaustion overcoming him, but yet he ran and ran….because he was alive! And because, in Yezera’s name, he swore vengeance on Dargul (the chieftain), the six-armed general, the bat-winged tiefling and any demon he ever came across…he ran and ran for what felt like forever until he collapsed of exhaustion.

Zarak’s next memory is of being carried on a stretcher by knights (of Iomedae he would later learn) and taken to the nearest city, Kenabres. There, fading in and out of consciousness, he saw the face of a priest, who gasped ”The symbol of Ragathiel!’, upon seeing the half-orc’s tattoo, before falling unconscious again. 24 hours later, Zarak awoke in the Temple of Iomedae, his bare feet and wounds he had sustained but not felt covered in bandages. He bathed to remove the dried blood, dirt, and grime that covered his entire body. Soon thereafter, he was questioned by military officers and paladins. When the naïve boy asked what the fuss was about, a paladin commander looked at the boy in shock, ”Field reports are that a 13-year old half-orc boy covered in blood escaped the demonic infested city of Drezen….on foot! And said boy, you, bear the holy symbol of Ragathiel, the Empyreal Lord of Vengeance, on his cheek. So maybe you can see why we would have questions for you, right?” Zarak sat on his bed, shell-shocked. It had not been a dream…the ritual..Yezera…the rage…his escape. It was all real. Zarak gave the command all the information he could remember, which was not much. In the end, his escape was chalked up to divine intervention and Zarak’s story became an urban legend. And he would have faded into obscurity….

But Zarak was no fool. He knew that his escape had been aided by the gods and perhaps Ragathiel himself. But the ritual in the first place? And that rage, which strengthened him? He knew that had come from within him and thus, it was controllable. He sought assistance from the Church, warriors, and anyone who would teach him combat. So now 7 years later, Zarak is a defender of Kenabres and frequent combatant in the Worldwound. He can control his bloodrage, using its benefits to vanquish his demonic foes. He is devout servant of Ragathiel and his honorable and chivalric ways. He waits for the day to fulfill his oaths to Yezera and turn the tide of the war. He is meant for great things….of that he is sure.