Thursday, 6 September 2012

Geek powers.... ACTIVATE! 1

When Im not at work, playing gigs or feeding my video game addiction I occasionally indulge myself in an even more 'geeky' pastime... Dungeons and Dragons.

If your unsure what D&D is then think of it like this: when you read a book it consists of a world and story created by the author. Inside this story they are invariably a number of characters who are the focus of the action. In D&D its like a book but each character is controlled by a different person, whilst one person plays the role of author or dungeon master and controls the world and the events occurring on it. the players tell the dungeon master what their character will do, and often roll a dice to determine if they succeed.

When I play D&D its with a group of my long term friends and the story we are currently playing casts us as a ragtag group of pirate/adventurers whose current focus is meeting some mysterious people called 'The Sealords'. The individual motivations to do so varies from character to character but the overarching goal is to use The Sealords to somehow prevent an ancient evil trapped in another dimension from escaping and destroying reality.

All of this is fine and dandy but, my character specifically, met with a slight problem last session.... by problem i mean Polar Bear and by slight I mean huge and deadly. due to this I have created a new character to join our group and take the place of my old one. I have written a little backstory for him and I thought it might be fun to post it here so here we go... The story of Gorgaron, Eater of Worlds.




We were just beasts, once.

That was until we ventured too far North.

The Northlands are a difficult place to live. Hunting is difficult and prey is scare. I was the Alpha male of the Pack and it was my role to keep the others fed and safe. Despite the challenge I was strong and wise and managed to keep us going. Unfortunately, in order to find our next meal we had to keep progressing further and further from the usual hotly contested hunting grounds of the lowlands and further towards the chaotic mountanous realm to the North.

Eventually our travels brought us to a clearing with a large stone statue at its centre. The statue depicted a bestial and forgotten god and both I and the pack felt drawn to it. Before I knew what I was doing I was bowing my muzzle to it and it spoke to us in the language of the beasts. "You are tired, you are hungry...fear not! I can grant you the strength to have more food than you can eat... All you must do is pledge yourself to me and all the worlds riches shall be yours."

As beasts we were stupid and naive... we did not even know the concept of lying or deceit. As one we howled our agreement and that was when the change came upon us. Pain wracked our bodies as bones broke and popped into new shapes. Muscles changed and swelled, filled with divine might and dark promises. Our howls became brutish shouts of pain and after a few hours of writhing pain I awoke to find my body was that of a humanoid beastman. All around me my pack were the same. We still had the fur, teeth and claws from our birth but now we were blessed with horns, legs, arms and thumbs that enabled us to make use of tools... and weapons!

The Forgotten God spoke to us in our minds, it named us the "Worldeaters" and we followed it's commands without a care. In a ferocious wave of claws and teeth we descended on village after village, killing humans and taking their food and treasures for our own. For years this continued... with our new forms and the weapons and armour we aquired hunting humans became far easier than when we had to work together as a pack to bring down a single elk.

Over time I soured to the killing... The concept of morality was sluggish in its entrance to my mind but once there it took hold and began to change me. Why were these human children any different to our cubs? Just because we could take more food than we could eat did that mean we should not leave some for others? These thoughts and other concerns began to fill my mind. It seemed that I was alone amongst my kin with regard to such worries. The rest of my pack were filled with bestial greed and rage and once all the humans were dead they turned on one another. The infighting was brutal. I tried to subdue them, both with words and blades I tried, but to no avail. The Worldeaters soon turned on one another and I could not help but be drawn into the conflict.

The fighting raged for days. Alliances formed and crumbled and trinkets changed bloody hands more times than could be counted. Throughout all this I stood in the centre of our camp howling for peace...but nobody listened. Instead, they attacked me. My own pack attacked me, their leader. It was with this act that they chose their fate. I will not go quietly into deaths embrace and I would not watch my once noble pack destroy itself in such a manner. My blades found them all. My prowess subdued each easily until as the sun rose on the fourth day I was surrounded by piles of my dead Worldeater brethren.

It shames me to admit it but I fled then. I could not comprehend what I had done and so I ran as far and fast as I could.

My cowardice brought me to a huge ruined human city. It was a place of war, as various factions vied over the magical meteorite at it's core. It wasn't long before I was coerced into helping a human warlock in his own pursuit of the meteor. Whilst I had mixed feelings about his motives he gave me piles of food and shiny discs for helping him. I had little use for the discs, but the food was good and most importantly his quest enabled me to encounter strong warriors. I did not yet know my purpose but I knew I needed to be strong and fighting others with power is the best way to increase your own. I clashed with foes of all races and professions... most noteably a human who smelt of blood and moved quicker than I would have thought possible as well as a short man made of stone and explosions. I learnt later that these were a Vampire and Dwarf... but all I knew then was their prowess helped mine to grow exponentially.

As always seems to happen this situation ended in carnage. Many factions arrived at the meteor at once and chaos reigned supreme. Through it all I could hear the voice of The Forgotten God in my mind laughing and relishing in the death.

It was at that point my purpose was born and I felt the warriors I was battling at the time could read it in my eyes. The Vampire, Dwarf and I were fighting in a stalemate at the centre of the battle around the meteor as it dawned on me. My foes stopped their assault for a moment as they witnessed my revelation. Without looking back I sheathed my weapons and set off at a run for the Northlands. They did not stop me and if I had been able to explain I feel they would have appreciated what I was going to do.

I would continue to get stronger, I would do whatever it would take.... and then I would track the Forgotten God whose promises ruined my life, my pack and kill him with my own hands.

The Worldeaters would be avenged and I, Gorgaron Worldeater, would kill a god to do it.

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