TrevenT

Name:Malrug'Yar

Race:Uruk

Age:285

Nationality: Uzg

((

MC name: TrevenT

Skype name: trevdawg19

That's too good of a drawing to be real. That's a screenshot.

The arid landscape beneath Malrug'Yar's feet burned hot, yet flourished with life. This was Ramakhet's land, the spirit of the Desert. His calloused feet and tanned skin protected him from the brilliance of Aztran's

power, the Sun. It was just after dawn that Malrug had ventured out of the protection of the Goi and headed into the scorching land. In his hands he held a long, but sturdy spear. A simple and humble weapon, but

perfect for his task.

Over the mountain in a valley he knew of, there was a pack of boars. In order to appease the spirit Votar, the Spirit of the Hunt, he decided he would hunt the largest boar in the pack. Failing the hunt wasn't an option,

as failure resulted in great humiliation. Holding his spear in his right hand and slinging a sack of his lunch over his shoulder, he began his early morning hike to the valley. His water flask sloshed at his hip as he stepped lightly through the desert. His mind was focused on the hunt ahead. If he were to become injured, there would be no help. It was him, and the favor of the spirits. Malrug had years of experience and knowledge of hunting and how to survive. He had full confidence in his ability and did not expect to fail. As the sun burned into the blue sky, noon approached. He had made it over the mountain and was now descending into the valley.

Rising up from beneath the shade of the shrubbery, Malrug finished his lunch and was halfway through his water supply. He peered over the valley for any sign of the boar pack. Nothing. He pressed on into the wild bushes of the valley. His steps were lighter and he was walked very slowly, his spear held firmly in both hands. All of his senses were peaked. His nose sniffed at the air, his ears focused on every noise, and his eyes staring intensely around, glancing at the ground for tracks. In the dirt he found day old tracks. A smaller pack of boars from what he expected, but something was different. One of the boar's tracks were about as big as Malrug's footprints. A wild boar anywhere near the size of an Uruk would be a vicious animal indeed. Malrug's lips twitched into an excited smile at the size of the game. He followed the tracks for an hour before coming upon a crevice in the side of a mountain. He could smell water, and more importantly, wet fur. The boars were near. He stepped into a clearing from the bush and saw the boars wallowing around in a pool. His eyes searched for the gigantic creature, but he failed to spot it. His brow furrowed in confusion before he heard the crack of twigs to his left. Out of the trees had stepped the largest boar Malrug had seen.

The boar's back rose a few inches above Malrug, who was 7 and a half feet tall. There was no need to bait this pig out of hiding, as the boar was already charging straight for Malrug. Recovering from his surprise, Malrug tensed up and held his ground. He placed his spear into the dirt to act as a pike and he roared to falter the pig's confidence. This did not slow the boar down, and it charged straight into him. The spear snapped in half from the impact and Malrug was thrown sideways, narrowly escaping death from the boar's tusks. The boar skidded to a halt, trying to stop its own weight. Malrug scrambled to grab the tipped end of the spear. He gripped it now as a dagger and waited the boar's next charge. He could see now that the spear had caused a large gash in the pig's snout. It seemed angrier at the smell of its own blood, and it charged again.

Malrug was prepared this time, and he slipped out of the boar's path just before it made impact. As the boar tried to slow its own weight, Malrug plunged the spear tip behind the boar's front shoulder. The hide of the boar was dense and tough to penetrate, but thanks to Malrug's brute strength, the spear tip was able to embed itself into the boar's organs. The boar swung its head around to knock Malrug off of him, but Malrug already had backed away. Though his attack was successful, he was now disarmed. The boar was bleeding heavily from its snout and armpit, but it still had fight left in it. It charged again at Malrug, and he once again jumped sideways. He wasn't as lucky this time as the boar's tusk caught Malrug's side and tore his flesh. His adrenaline was too high for Malrug to feel the wound, but he saw it. Ignoring it, he turned his attention back to the hog.

The spear tip was still inside the hog and Malrug knew if he pulled it out, the hog would surely bleed to death. The boar stumbled in its steps, the pain catching up. It lowered its head for another charge at Malrug and once again he dodged. Malrug thanked the spirits as the hog passed him harmlessly, and Malrug charged forward to grasp the spear tip. He pulled it out as the boar was stumbling to a halt from the speed of the charge. The boar squealed it pain as Malrug dodged away from it. The blood began spurting out in tune to its heart beat. He had hit an artery. The ground quickly was soaked in the boar's blood, and its fur matted with the thick, red, liquid. Malrug stared into the boar's eyes, and the boar stared back. He saw beauty in those orange eyes, and the raw wild nature of the Spirits. The boar blinked, as if accepting defeat, and it laid down to die. Malrug stood over the dying boar and he muttered a prayer, and a farewell. "Gug'ye, bubhozh azh. Fly wid da Zpiritz wunz mur." Once the boar had passed from this world onto the next, Malrug collected his trophy. He took the large ivory tusks of the boar, the fat warm heart. He cleaned his wounds and wrapped them in bits of his loincloth. He'd get better care once home. He stuffed the heart into his burlap sack, tied the tusks to his back and went home

.

Once back to the Goi of the Uruks, Malrug went immediately to the shrine of Votar. He knelt before the shrine, staring up into the deep blue sky. He took out the boar's thick heart, and placed it on the altar of the shrine. The shrine towered over him, erecting a sense of power and wisdom. Malrug recited a prayer, bowed his head, and stood up. He headed back to his home to display his trophy, clean his wounds, get stoned, and sleep.

sound like a common psychopath to me

"Heyl Vrogazh! Kjaftu Yaru!"

+1, love the story, please make more

+1, definitely looking forward to more of these 

+1 love it, good roleplayer, greater personality 

+1 love it, great read

I've known him for a little over a year. Great guy, even better roleplayer. +1

orcs will rek your lands and steal the desert

Are there going to be wild animals for once

exquisite, thank you

Malrug screams in fear and runs for the hills, praying to the spirits to save him.

noobs

"Now I have citizenship, my lord!"

Karam clears his throat nervously

"Um... N-no, my lord."

yer mom

(( no ))

Name: Erich Holtzmen

Age: 28

Race: Human

Short Bio of your history and reason of joining: My folk were simple farmers. I was an only child, raised on a farm and learned obedience, and hard labor early. My parents trained me how to use a blade effectively in-case I ever needed to defend myself. After leaving the farm, I ventured across Athera in search of some sort of adventure. My trails lead me to hunger, homelessness, and weary. I am tired and in search of a sense of belonging.

OOC: 
Do you have skype?: Yes

Teamspeak?: Yes

I'm normally too ******* stoned to take anything seriously so I just run around and look at people's skins then quickly and suddenly, on impulse, close minecraft.

this will be put on your uhhuhuhuhhhhhhhh..............

permant rekrod

sosa, the wannabe stoner

I am a professional meme generator. I work in a meme factory where I make memes and distribute them for profit. I also have an interest in memes.