Name:: Moxis 'the Animal'
Age: 30
Sex: Male
Breed: Full-blooded 'Mountain' Orc
Appearance: Although robust and physically powerful, Moxis differs from others of his kind in his appearance in a number of small but distinct ways. The first of these is the rather pale tone of his still green flesh, a much lighter shade than those of most other Orcs but green nonetheless, its texture like that of tough leather in spite of the 'delicate' hue.
Secondly is his build, for a full-blooded Orc without a hint of Elvish blood in him at least, his arms and plate-sized hands almost like those of a primate in there reach - at least down to his knees, which themselves are part of oddly long legs - and his overall physique lofty and broad-shouldered but narrowing as it descends down toward his feet. In short he is built like a mountaineer - tall and gangly, but with limbs wrapped in wiry and lean muscle, his block-like torso and enlarged thighs showing a figure capable of scaling large peaks as much as keeping pace with a running warg.
In the face is where he resembles other Orcs the most; a thick brow concealing deep-set eyes of a stormy grey, while a mane of straight black hair streaked with the beginnings of a similar grey is either left loose to stream in the wind, or taken into a topknot atop the back of his head, his squared jaw containing a fine set of teeth and two tusks that would not look out of place on a wild boar.
Lastly are the markings that prevail over his body and face, black and ochre in colour, varying between the simple streak of black that runs from his forehead to the tip of his nose, to the spiral patterns covering his forearms, buttocks and thighs.
Skills/Abilities:- Savage fury – A wise man once said "that's my secret, I'm always angry!" Indeed, this is the exact creed that Moxis lives by in his day-to-day dealings with anyone and everything. He does absolutely nothing to dispel the concept of the 'savage Orc', doing much more to inflate such notions than anything else. While able to retain control of himself when/if needed, it is not in his nature, his upbringing or his person to be calm when he could be angry. On the other hand, like any wild beast, it is precisely this that can be harnessed in battle and then unleashed upon a rather unfortunate enemy - like a seething mass of lava constantly bubbling inside a volcano, it is always there and when it erupts forth...well...you'd best not be in the way.
- Animal instincts - Moxis is more of an animal than a person, though he may think, speak, learn and live in the flesh of something more bipedal and seemingly Orc-like than any four-legged variation. Whether it comes to his snap reactions, eerily precise reflexes, or his ability to heightened sense of smell, he seems to have been crafted for his role within the
Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi.
- Guerilla fighter – From the moment he learnt to stand and walk he has been encouraged to do two things, to fight and to become the finest fighter he can become in rough and irregular terrain. Living with his people amidst the craggy mountains and rugged plains of his homeland, he has become near enough an expert in fighting where others would not even consider fighting, launching ambushes from the most unexpected of places, and coming upon an enemy from a quarter they would never expect. Sun, rain or snow...rock, woodland or plains...its all the same to Moxis.
- Light Infantry specialist – Moxis and his people could arguably have been said to have 'invented' the way of fighting now widely employed by various nations and peoples the world over, fighting almost exclusively in loose formations, hitting the enemy before retreating, and attacking from a distance...at least until they run out of projectiles. Having inherited these same skills, and having lead raids himself, he considers himself somewhat of an authority on the use of light infantry, on the conducting of raids (especially night time raids) and on combining 'cavalry' with infantry support.
- Close quarters combatant – When your javelins are all gone, and when their is only one way left, then you can expect Moxis to be there! His culture includes customs of head-taking and the use of their national weapon (see below) to deal death and mayhem to their foes. He is no exception to this fiercely
enforced rule.
- Javelineer – As handy with his javelins as he is with his blade, he can hit even a moving target from a great distance.
- Runner – Moxis is fast, much faster than most would guess upon first seeing him, capable of keeping pace with a running warg or delivering messages back and forth in a matter of moments. Often times he has gambled with those that underestimated him, coming away with they somewhat relieved of their coin and he not a little richer for it.
- Drunkard and Dancer – There are very few times when Moxis is not inebriated, which does nothing to help his anger issues, coming from a breed of Orcs that drink hard all the time and particularly so before battle. If a close fellow dies, they drink. If they are to raid an enemy tribe, they drink. Going on a long journey? They drink. No, it is easier to say how many times he has been seen without a drink in his hand, and there are mighty few of those! Going hand-in-hand with such behaviour is the custom of dances, especially war dances, in the tribes of his nation. When the drink takes him he usually cannot resist the urge to leap up, cry a war-cry and begin an enthusiastic dance of his people.
- Tattooist – Some people want decoration more personal than mere ornaments, and Moxis happens to be able to provide that, versed in a number of different styles of marking the flesh through puncturing, pricking, chiselling and other methods. Apart from a skin of alcohol and his weapons, the only thing he carries on his person his pouch containing his 'tools of the trade'.
Equipment:- A black knee length and sleeveless tunic of wool, tied at the waist by a sturdy belt with two wolf heads acting as belt buckles, the hems of the garment patterned with geometric motifs in white. Over this he wears a red thigh length and hand-made cloak of heavy material (due to living in the mountains), the zig-zag and castellated designs of white upon it representative of his tribe and region of origin, the entire thing able to be wrapped about the body or the top half hung over his shoulder like a collar of sorts, it can also be thrown over the shoulder for ease of movement or wrapped about the arm to act as a form of impromptu shield.
Upon his head he usually wears a simple helmet of bronze, well made and with a nose guard, with protection about the neck and pieces covering both cheeks of his face, everythingfinished off by a flowing red crest of black running from front to back.
Finally, covering his feet and part of the lower leg, are a pair of sturdy boots without soles or heels crafted from the pliant flesh of a fawn, these are encased in a pair of bronze greaves tied at the back of the calve.
- Javelins, at least three of them; each of these are tipped with iron and crafted from sturdy wood, able to be used as short spears when needed, and easily crafted again from natural materials if lost or unable to be recovered.
- Shield; usually with the javelins held behind this in one hand, the shield is an oval construct of wood covered by leather and painted brown, a central wooden spine running down the middle, and an iron boss both for protection and as a punching weapon.
- Curved short sword; a foot-and-a-half long weapon of iron, gently curved with the cutting edge on the inside of the blade and a thick spine, kept wickedly sharp at all times and worn on the hip beneath his cloak.
- A length of rope usually worn about his torso, because you never know when you might need some good rope.
History:Toward the north of the human Kingdom of Kedril, the northernmost nation of a peninsula and the closest to it, lie the lands of Ekaht - a vast and sprawling land inhabited by constantly warring tribes of Orcs, savage and ferocious fighters stuck in an age of heroic combat, warriors without mercy or empathy for anyone except themselves and their kinfolk - and in the north or this northerly land can be found the Amnytan mountain range (named by humans, but known to the Orcs as Urgort).
It is in this place of towering peaks, lush and fertile valleys, and hundreds of Orcish villages and fortified hilltop settlements that the 'bravest of the brave' can be found practicing their traditional way of life; herding livestock, raiding their neighbours, and hiring themselves out as mercenaries to the southern kingdoms, fiefs and nations who lack their own effective guerilla fighters.
Moxis was born into the Krobdisci tribe, one of thousands of tribes vying for the title of 'greatest Orcish warriors' of their nation, a tribe known among equally savage peoples for their love of drink, war and woman which they took to the extremes at any and every opportunity. In this society you became a fully fledged member once you had taken the head of your first enemy, trained nearly from birth to throw javelin, endure hardship and pain without complaint, and to effectively use the traditionally curved blades of the Ekaht region. It was also highly advisable to gain every ounce of knowledge you could from the constantly cominig-and-going members of the tribe that served with great regularity in the armies of others, returning with tales, trophies and theories of their own on how best to best them should they ever need to decimate a former ally.
Not the son of a great noble, or even a great warrior, Moxis grew up as the child of a mercenary father who was not really ever there - too busy fighting other peoples wars and winning glory for himself - and a mother who tended to the families flock of sheep and goats on the mountainsides. Although he grew lean and hard helping his mother in the mountains, often climbing where he was not supposed to, or hunting when he could, he did not neglect what was essentially the only occupation he desired in his future.
By the time he was seventeen his father was dead, spitted upon the pike of some human in some land somewhere, but the young Orc could not really care less. When his fathers arms and armour were returned to the family, the first thing he did was make sure they were undamaged, go to have his sword sharpened, and declared to his mother that he was going to be a warrior...the greatest warrior that the tribe had ever seen, no less! Some laughed at him, but they mostly stopped laughing after he gutted them and took their heads from their shoulders, quickly gaining the attention of the tribes elders and being placed into one of the small 'flocks' of Orcs as they called their raiding parties.
Years passed and by the time Moxis had gained enough experience to lead his own flock into the southern lands he was hardened and practised, well versed in the Krobdisci way of war, but not as well as he thought...
It is typical that something foul would befall him when he had finally reached his desired position of power, a rival tribe (the rival tribe!) Discovering his bands route of march and their eventual location and planning nothing but ill for them before they even reached their destination. The planning paid off. Moxis and his Orcs were ambushed in a dense forest, slaughtered 'to a man', that Orc being Moxis himself, who fled back home to find his village already burnt to the ground and his people scattered to the four winds; with no-one left and nothing to now go back to, he decided to at least keep his traditions and thereby his people alive.
Raids, battles and war came and went like the seasons, Moxis seeing that everywhere he went he was despised - a single Orc by himself in a world that hated him for his race alone - even though he fought and killed in the name and cause of others without a second thought. It was on one of his many drunken sprees that he fell in with some of the Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi enjoying themselves in a similar fashion, an apparently organised company of Orcs...the company of Orcs, outcasts and lowlifes like himself no less.
Well, that was when his current life truly began, the headstrong Orc thrown without much questioning into the ranks of the Pikes with the other Tuskers. It was not what he had imagined, not by a long shot, and although he quickly tired of the orders, the dense formations and the constant wearing of armour he found far too heavy, he stuck at it because he was too big-headed to give in.
When he had finally 'graduated' from the Pikes, hating every moment of it with a passion and causing too many fights for his own good, he had nevertheless been noted for his unusual habits and odd ideas about hit-and-run fighting...something he had seen that the Orcs of Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi appeared not to employ in any number or to any great effect. Here, he thought to himself, here was something he could attempt to show his fellows! He understood that it was not the way of most Orcs, many who preferred to get to grips with the enemy as soon as possible, but in him through his people was a mingling of skirmisher and close quarter combatant that might satisfy them all.
After six years with the Company, only time will tell.
Personality and Psychological profile:Moxis will always be a 'tribal Orc' at heart, it is a part of him and through it he is connected to his people, his ancestors and the entire culture that he has lost. Although a member of the Company as much as any other, he remains somewhat of a loner within the ranks, a figure of queer dress, with odd customs, and an Orcish dialect that may as well be another language entirely. For him is not the clash of closed ranks upon others, the way that humans or Elves fight, in both his mind and the way he conducts himself outwardly he is still stuck in an earlier 'heroic age', an age of long past where one-on-one combat was the norm, where you fought to take the heads of your enemies and where you worshipped your Gods by the amount of blood you spilt upon the ground.
Everything about him sceams 'savage archtype' - from the way he bawls at others, to his drinking habits, and the way he is not above bullying others or threatening them to get what he wants, kept in the Company only through his ferocity and odd ideas that may well have some merit. If others get in his way he is not above hurting them, or waiting with a strange patience to seek his vengeance on those that have wronged him in the past. Other than this he is quite a jovial chap, always angry beneath the surface but jovial nonetheless, willing to call others friend if they can appeal to his sense of honour and bravery as well as match him in a drinking bout.
Some might wonder how he got the moniker 'the Animal', and this is because of a couple of reasons beyond his eerily accute senses; the first is that you never back him into a corner or come up behind him unannounced, this can only end badly. The second is that he is not above, and has on occasion, eaten the flesh of enemies and allies alike when the whim took him.
Savage and uncivilised, born beyond the borders of such a soft and petty concept, he may be arrogant, cocksure and violent among a violent race, but he is still loyal to a fault, deeply connected to his past and his beliefs, and those that he now calls his family.
Relationships and Acquaintances:To be discussed.
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