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About Ofrider

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    Newly Spawned

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  • Character Name
    Jor Ulz'han
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  1. Another page added to the book, some rough sketches of stick figures with pointy ears.
  2. One day, perhaps, a book will be found. The pages brittle and made of leather, sewn in with sinew of some unknown animal, and poorly sewn in at that, the pages uneven, the holdings of the book is a harder, firmer leather, much like that of a mammoth or some other beast. The book its-self is much like that of some old musty tome. And hold the writings of a very specific Ork, named Jorg, and his thoughts on various things. RACES ”Mi haz nub zeen otherz besidez Mi bruddaz and variouz klans and tribez of Uruk. It waz zurprizing to find zuch things when Mi arrived, and more, how diff’rent they are.” ’Ommiez ’Ommiez....zome zhort, zome tall. They have tall tuff lookin wallz, live in bub’hozh goi of ztonez, twigz, and farmz. Each Ommie haz a role, nub trust azh anew’ther, az latz Rexez (kalled ‘noblez’ and ‘kingz’ in Ommie tong) rule with ztong and mighty force. They haz ‘guardz’, Ommiez in ar’or and wapons thaz protect latz goi. Zome Ommiez like latz Rexez, utherz nub, yet those thaz don’t, only complain, nub challenge their Rexez. They blah thaz if they do, they be imprisoned, Ommie kingz zound cowardly, hide behind many Ommiez....yet thez muzt of goattan powerz zomehow? Each Ommie haz different thinkiez on thingz, zome honorful, zome ztong, zome zoft...zome cowardly. Mi haz noticed that bigger Ommiez zeem to be tuff...or at leazt think theiez are. Ommie men carry zult and other waponz, they keep lat bruddaz close (Note: Ommie bruddaz are weird. Theyz chooze zelect boiez to be bruddaz, and zome timez theyz betray azh anew’ther....haz yet dizcovered howz da Ommie brudda thingie workz). Ommie women wear drezzez, zome hold more honor than thar matez, mozt of thoze haz kubz, rezpezctz to tuff momo’z. Ommie guardz where morez ar’or the higher up theiez are. Mozz guardz where floppy zilly hatz with a zingle breazt plate, while thoze higher up have zilly ztachez on face with a full zuit. Theze guardz zeem wary on thoze they deem dis-honorable (dezzpite latz honor...) or azgianzt uther nub Ommie (Zomtimez nub kaze, Ommiez are weird). Albia Albia....many different typez.....like meat. Theyz have pointy earz, like zpearz. Theyz taller than Ommiez, and they kan live pazt azhty (Iz there a nomber pazt 100?!). Theyz know alot, buzz zometimez nub the wizezt dezpite theirz knooledge. Azh...Albia of Ageron, theyz live in goi like Ommiez, buzz theyz uze twiggs alot more, buzz ztone iz ztill uzed. Theyz rule with ‘kindnezz’ how thiz workz Mi haz nub idea...buzz Albia Rex rulez, zo it muzt work zomehow? Theyz have parti and poolz. Drezz zimilar to Ommiez, woman have longer hairz. Men haz long hair two....Mi unzure zometimez if man iz woman or woman iz man. Theyz thinkie highly of themzelvez, howz they’z nub klomped yet iz confuzing (iz thiz the ‘kindnezz’ thingie?). They haz honor, buzz ztation iz everything, Latz haz noblez like Ommiez, buzz the higher in ztation azh iz, the more they hold thingz in regard....iz thiz an age thing? Duh....Albia of Renta’la. Theyz live like Ztoutz, under-ground. Theyz haz big fortz made of ztone, ‘retty fortz. Theyz wear white ar’or, zometimez with pur’le zashez. Theyz tall, buzz wider than uther Albia, Zkin dark az azh and koal. Latz hair iz zilver or white....zeem weak, buzz ztong heartz, Theyz noble more simple, only azh Rex, makez Bub’hozh zpeechez, zeemz all theze noblez zupport da Rex, like Uruk, much rezpezctz to da darkiez. They uze bowz and zhoota thingiez, zeemz klomping iz zcary for zoom....Mi thinkz that zome grow zoft behind wallz, or haz albia live zo long that klompin iz nub longer thinkie? Muzz do more rezearch on thiz. Zame az uther Albia, buzz men wear more ar’or, more quite, mi appreciate lat zilence...muzz challenge azh to klomp zome time. Femalez are....zoft, are all femalez az zoft? Mi must do rezarch on thiz, az zome uruk femalez have hard zkin, do utherz nub have hard zkin? Mi worriez howz otherz zurvive, at leazt Albia haz age and wizdom, like Zhomo.
  3. Jorg was hammering at the forge, the thoughts of the day on his mind, he had watched it happen, each blow of the hammer upon the dark metal a reminder of the death. His own ally had died...in his brudda’s hall? That is not a way to die. Shadows from the forges flame play out the scene, a bolt, a body, a non moving corpse. He grunts, he didn’t know the Albia, he had no need to, nor need to shed tear. It was but another corpse of someone who wasn’t a brudda, but one who died honorable. He throw the hammer aside, picking up the piece just forged with tongs putting it with the others. He grunted as he looked at the chipped dusty stone of Krug, a reminder that even those who live long, even near a Rex, will chip and fall away to dust eventually.
  4. Howdy! I’m Ofrider, I’m one of the newer players (I’m all pink!). Just wanted to say high, I’m slow when I’m typing and like to throw details, so if you just see me standing there after saying hello, its probably cause I’m still typing! Anyway, just wanted to say high, I like to ramble to please stop me if I get out of hand. Other wise, I’m pretty chill. So yeah, howdy!
  5. Ofrider


    Born into the harsh mesa of Krug. His father was warrior hunter, his mother leaned more towards the spiritual side of things...and cooking. Compared to others in the tribe he was in, he was an oddity, he did enjoy battles, he learnt of spirits like the others did, but he was quite. He didn’t rush head-long into things, but choose carefully. When others ran after prey with their hunting spears, he waited and set traps.This infuriated his father, as he was only brash in his anger, like a wild animal, more importantly he wasn’t red, but by far from weak. His life generally nomadic, moving from hunting ground to Oasis, sometimes taking camp with other uruks to test strength and share lessons and stories. Soon, it was time of the trials, the trials to become a proper Uruk of Krugmar, but this time, he favored the shamans as much as he favored the warriors. He learnt of the spirits and their tales as much as he did of how to properly klomp someone and kill a boar. Of course, he was no shaman, he did find their work fascinating. The night before the trial, he preformed in rituals of fire, water, earth, and wind, to ready himself. He took blessings from his mother and from his father. Instead of going with an axe, instead, he choose a spear. The fight was viscous, he eventually went to a knee, he was tired, but far from over. When his opponent raised his axe in a final blow, he suddenly charged forth with his spear, plunging it deep into his chest and falling on top of the surprised Uruk screaming as he head butted down, tearing him with fist and tusk. He raised up victorious, his father though, disapproved of his tactic. His father didn’t enjoy the use of trickery, he could of just rose up and finished him then, why didn’t he? He worked on sharpening his son in the ways of Uruk-ness, much like a dulled sword, sometimes, having to beat it to fine form or sometimes...submission. His mother was kind though, much more thoughtful then her husband, it left him with conflict on what a true Uruk was. Towards his 20th birthday, his father finally fell, he rashly chose to challenge a superior Uruk and failed, he cheered yet cried, his father gone, but in a glorious way, but as the famous saying goes ‘The dead die alone boy, so make a friend or join them’ so in some ways, this was destiny. It is now, that he decided, was the time to travel, he knew little of the world outside of this harsh mesa, the place he called home, he wanted more, his father wanted him to be a proper Uruk, and he would be one, he would learn, and be tested. Perhaps to bring back glory for his clan.
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