Forgotten Lord Towers Campaign
Human aka Gazarak
Devious and ruthless as his race, but objects to torture and mindless killing. Hated by his kind, Human, an outcast and fugitive, lives by his wit and skill alongside his companion, Zane, and Worg, Fluffy.
Level 2 – Chaotic Neutral – Goblin – Rogue
Role: Safekeeping of lost property, and renowned locksmith.
STR: 15 – DEX: 18 – CON: 14 – INT: 17 – WIS: 14 – CHA: 2
AC: 18 Flat: 14 Touch: 15
Preferred Weapon: Dagger and Small Crossbow
Key Skills: Escape Artist, Move Silently, Search, Open Lock, Pick Pocket, Tumble
It has been many years since I last looked back into the past and remembered my origins. The brutal days in goblinoid society, days I wish heavily to forget. I was born in to the clan of the Black Sun, a goblin mountain tribe, its symbol tattooed upon my head. I was named Gazarak, in common tongue it means the infernal one, but it was soon discovered that I didn’t live up to my name.
Unlike the rest of my clan, I was patient, methodical, and took pleasure in only the kill and not torturing my victims. Despite how hard my clan tried to shape me into a moral member of society, in the goblin’s sense anyways. They beat me, mutilated me, did everything to make me callous and unthinking monster I was meant to be. My mother, feeling betrayed, abandoned me and declared my name to be Human, a race of unholy ugliness that I seemed to embody.
Not long after I reached the Age of the Warrior, I was exiled from the clan. Though truth be told, they wished to kill and eat me as tradition dictated, but I guess taking the Warlord’s daughter hostage dissuaded that notion. I left with a warning that if they didn’t change their ways soon the races of light would one day eradicate them.
After I was a safe distance away from the tribe, high into the mountains, I promptly disposed of the Warlords daughter by hanging her off a cliff by her toes. I tied the rope unto a loose boulder and hid the rope beneath some brush so that if they decided to purse me instead of save the Warlord’s daughter, she would plummet to her death; which would seal their fates as well. I then left the girl and moved deeper into the mountains, but it wasn’t long till I heard a high pitch scream drifting on the wind that signaled the death of the princess.
If the Goblin Warriors continued their hunt after that I never knew, for I headed to the one bastion of civilization, a place where they would never willingly go, where I believed I would be accepted.
I was wrong.
So here I am, many years later, wanted by the law, and my old clan if they still exist, and a goblin for hire. Theft and murder being my only means to survive in this city, but that is ok. After all, I’m still a goblin, and blood and money go so well together.