Ogoth carried a strange smell of iron, perhaps blood. His long hair hidden under a leather hood, his teeth poked upwards across his cheeks. He often scavenged and discovered things he could use and live off of in his day to day life by the sea, looking across the shores for washed up debree. His favorite thing of all though, was to sit in the prairies with one or two of his orcish brethren and think of better times, when his parents were alive, he was a shy and timid orc on this inside, he accentuated this by giving his all to dominate and shatter the egos of others. Mean on the outside and vulnerable on this inside you might think, though who would ever assume, his face remained cold and hard.
Ogoth was raised in the deep oaken forest of Aegrothond, ‘white-wash’ they called his family, for they would not venture near the towering orcish boundaries in fear of war to come, and perhaps death to their only child. Ogaths mother was infertile and she praised and rewarded Ogoth for everything he did, telling him of the days the descendant races arrived in the aisle of Axios after leaving the isles of Vailor, he was quite spoiled but ignorant as to why she did this, he didn’t do anything to deserve this treatment! One day a band of Elven scouts travelling through the forest came towards the house of Ogoth and his family, they remained silent as light footsteps echoed around their hut, as they stopped it seemed as the air was consumed and devoured by the crackling of leaves, before a torch went upon and lit the hut into flame. As the yellowish red fire feasted on the hut, his mother placed a tusky kiss on his head before throwing him out of the window, tumbling down the hill he went as his fathers cry of rage echoed in the air, following, a clashing of metal. He crawled far away untill he discovered a band of dwarves living in the mountains of Agnarum, they tended to the malnourished and starving Ogath untill he was well, raised by these dwarves untill reaching adulthood, he set out on his own to make a true legacy of himself in the name of KRUG himself. To this day Ogath wonders what happened that night, but he finds it easiest to forget.
