Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

Name: Skagrot Skullsplitter
Race: Mountain Orc
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Build: Massive
Height: 6'6"
Weight: 350 lbs
Eye colour: Red
Hair colour: Black
Skin tone: Dark greenish-gray

Distinguishing marks: His face is shaved and his hair cut close to the scalp. His armor is clean and maintained. This rudimentary attention to hygiene is unusual for an orc.

Distinguishing behavior: He stands tall, usually at attention. Carrying himself with a certain sense of discipline and military bearing. It is fairly evident that he has had some sort of formal military training.

Place of birth: Savage Frontier – Surbrin Hills
Current place of residence: Uruk Lurra and Soubar
Occupation: Soldier, Mercenary, Adventurer

History: Skagrot (Skag) was born into the Skullsplitter tribe. A small nomadic orc tribe consisting of: Gray orcs, Mountain orcs and Orogs. The territory they ranged within was located around the Crag Mountain, Surbrin Hills and included areas of the Upperdark's, Northdark.

At the height of the Skullspitters power, they allied with the Griffon Tribe, a powerful human Uthgardt barbarian tribe. They completed many successful raids together growing in wealth and power, eventually becoming a serious threat throughout the region. But, as was common among both orcs and barbarian tribes, a falling out between the two ended with the Griffon tribe attacking the smaller Skullsplitter tribe. The Skullspitters, fought ferociously but were vastly outnumbered and suffered casualties to most if not all of their fighting force in a toe to toe battle with the Griffons.

The surviving Skullspliitters, including a very young Skagrot fled to the upperdark to regroup. Unfortunately, in their haste to escape, they entered the Whispering Caverns, a territory controlled at the time, by the drow. The rag-tag band of injured and exhausted Skullspitters had escaped the frying pan, only to now find themselves in the fire. Quickly overwhelmed by ambushing drow the orcs did not stand a chance. The remnants of the Skullsplitter tribe not lucky enough to die in battle, were captured, split up and dragged away to be sold on various slave markets. Skagrot was sold to House Sshamath of Sshamath, The City of Dark Weavings.

His early days with House Sshamath were spent either being thrown into fighting pits or used on the front lines of battles and raids as arrow fodder. It was only pure blind luck that he happened to survive. Still, he was perceived as not being absolutely worthless and so was given some martial training among other more skilled and valuable slaves. He lived as a shock trooper and lesser house guard, in service to the drow of Sshamath. He took to this life as a soldier quite naturally, amusing his drow masters, who in turn afforded him certain privileges not normally given to typical slaves.

After approximately 20 years of captivity to the drow, in a very unnecessarily bloody altercation, Skag eventually managed to escape!
He eventally made his way to the surface where we find him now.

Alone and destitute, with no tribe, wives or sons to call his own, The Last Skullsplitter, wanders an unfamiliar and unforgiving sword coast equipped with only the armor on his back and his trusted Warhammer, to keep his enemies at bay.

There is probably no greater insult for an orc than to be called weak. Well, that is except for perhaps, 'elf lover'....

For your typical orc warrior, strength is all that matters. They need to be able to show their strength, to prove they are mighty in the eye of He Who Watches. There is no purpose for an orc warrior other than to show they have the power to beat the enemies of Gruumsh. To put it simply, any show of weakness could jeopardize a chance for an orc to serve Gruumsh, in the afterlife.

Skagrot had chosen the way of the orc warrior. At the age of six he picked up his first spear and began his training.
At the age of seven, he allowed himself to belong to a tribe that consorted with humans, fighting among them instead of warring against them.
At age eight, Skagrot failed to defend his tribe when those same humans betrayed, ambushed and destroyed the Skullsplitter tribe.
Still at age eight, he committed the worst dishonour of all, when he allowed himself to be captured, alive!
By elves!
Well drow, but still elves....
Then came a fate, worse then death itself. Worse than even dying as a coward. A fate that would make the most hardened orc warrior grow pale at the very thought of it. Skagrot Skullsplitter lived among the drow elves as their slave for 20 years before finally escaping.

ELF LOVER!!!

Even if Skagrot finds a way to restore his honour and becomes the strongest and most powerful of warriors, the shame from his failures will follow him to his grave. A shame he knows he can not hide from if the ever watchful eye of The First Power of the orcs, decides to gaze upon him.

Weakness is turning away from your god for fear of his judgment.

Where there's a Whip there is a Way

The two handed war hammer slammed into the chest of a large troll, caving in its rib cage and causing it to collapse to the ground. Then, in one long arching over head swing, Skagrot flattened the trolls skull.
He looked down at the squashed troll, admiring his handiwork. He could see the green heap of hammered gore, begin to shudder and crackle, its cartilage and bones already slowly popping back into place.

With a renewed sense of urgency, he turned and continued moving down the passage, towards the caves exit. He had finally reached the end of the final tunnel that lead out of the underdark and back to the surface, to freedom. Unfortunately, after two decades imprisoned in the Underdark, the light spilling in from this exit, was absolutely blinding and held him back mere footsteps from achieving his escape. He would not have much time to adjust to the light before the trolls were fully regenerated.

What would he do, now that he was almost free?
Seek vengeance and painful deaths to all humans and elves, for the suffering and dishonour they had caused him?

He stared into the light and then sighed heavily.

It was the way of the orc after all.
But after all he had been through, the many losses and failures he had endured in his life, he had grown weary of it all. He understood and held the core belief that life itself was one long epic battle. A battle to which, he was more than willing, nay thrilled, to fight!
But was it always to be fought on the terms and by the conditions of others?
In Skagrots experiences, he discovered, the hard way, that there was no real difference between fighting for life under the literal whip of the Drow, to that of fighting endless and pointless wars, under a different kind of whip, held by power hungry chieftains and their war crazed god.

Skag still intended to fight, and win, this battle that was life, all while gloriously serving The Tribe of He Who Watches. The only difference now was he would do so on his own terms. No more would Skagrot Skullsplitter choose the way of the whip!

His contemplation was interupted by a terrible, angry screech from somewhere behind him. It was followed by multiple other screeches made in response, not far away from the first.

Skagrot entered the light and in doing so, earned his freedom -for the first time. He had no idea where he was, where he was going, or what could possibly be in store for him out there, but he was eager to find out.

At the very least, outside the cave, he would be rid of these blasted trolls!

Black orcs do not have a great sense of smell, especially compared to their cousins, the Gray orcs. But this was something Skagrot Skullsplitter was glad for. The reason being was that the village he was staying in, Soubar, smelled bad- really bad.
And that is coming from an orc!

Yes, the streets smelled of piss and dung, but that was not what Skagrot felt was so repellent. There was a stink emanating from Soubar that only Skag seemed to find abhorrent.

It was the teiflings- so many of them strutting around the place. The concentrated stink of their fiendishness, smells like both the hells and the abyss were having a orgy inside Skag's nose.
And the dwarves, the squat stunties, who only seem to want to bathe in sour ale. Grubby dwarven braggarts, so full of crap they fill all the latrines, to overflowing.
Also, the pesky halflings. Sneaky little rodents, always underfoot and up to mischief. Nothing so small should be so fearless- mad as outhouse rats, the lot of them.
The elfs and elf bloods- daisy munching pompous fools, that think they can mask their weakness in oils and sickeningly sweet scents. The only time the stench of an elf does not make Skag want to wretch, is when it is cooking on a spit!
And the humans- oh the stinkin' smelly rotten humans. There are no words in orcish to describe the unholy stench of those wretched creatures. Their arrogance and falseness of which the faintest whiff is enough to send Skagrot into the most foulest and murderous of rages.

These weak soft craven pinkskins parading around the village wallowing in their filth, rubbing up against Skagrot getting their corruption all over him. How do the other creatures, the orcs and goblins and lycans and even the mindflayer tolerate the smell?!

The streets of Soubar are just filthy with these stinkin' pinkskins!
He can not take it anymore! It is unbearable! He must put an end to this smell before he is completely overwhelmed!
HE MUST KILL!!!
KILLLLLL!!!

"Lemme guess' ye have more loot to sell?”
Skag looks down to see the halfling merchant, Harmony, flashing him her best saleswoman grin.

Skagrot Skullsplitter lets out a loud and deep sigh....

*In a private room in the tavern in Soubar, Skagrot Skullsplitter begins carefully but crudely putting some troubled thoughts down on a torn and ink stained scroll*

Long ago, a drow elf of House Sshamath gave me magic gauntlets. She says, gauntlets will give me common sense and make me less of a fool orc. In this way, the drow said, I will serve drow better.
Well, I am still orc, and now have my freedom. But now also, I have many questions about much things that I have never questioned before.

I am Skagrot and I write down my trouble here because a human says it will aid me to collect thoughts. And the right thoughts will bing me glory. Am I now to solve problems with ink and scroll and not fist and hammer?

If I learn the way of elf and human do I betray way of orc?

I should just throw magic gauntlets into Sea of Swords and make the questions go away!

*There is a tear in the paper and a large ink stain, where the writing implement pierced the scroll.*

Like some puny, soft, pink skinned human, I sit here, writing touchy feelings down, dishonoring the language of Daraktan, the written scribbles of the Orc people. My father, Captain of Skullsplitter tribe, servant of Ilneval the Warmaster, was favored of tribal Chieftain. My father used written Daraktan to send messages and orders to his lieutenants during battle. This won the Skullsplitters many battles. He made me learn it, as a pup, and now many years later I use it, to either make great strategies or to damn my soul forever.

I have survived, dishonored, for too long, among Drow elfs. But I have seen with my own eyes, deep in the dark pits deep of the Underdark, drow live as masters of their domain in great wealth and riches. The city of Sshamath face no worthy foe that can oppose them.

I freed myself of the realm of the drow but I am tribeless, and spend much time with other misfits in the crossroads, known as Soubar. I sometimes visit the puny orc village of Uruk Lurra. Both places hide and cower under the shadow of the city of Baldurs Gate. With its great high walls it holds supremacy over all lands around it.

The Gray Orc Shamans of the Skullsplitter tribe, long defeated and dead, used to teach young orcs, the ways of Gruumsh One Eye. We must become the strongest, destroy our enemies and conquer their lands- only then can we know true glory!

We became strong. We destroy our enemies. But they also destroy us. Much death, much pain, much suffering, much destruction, yet always, there is no glory. I fight for all my life and only survived this long because of the words of Ilneval the Horde Leader, who says: “Life is Battle.”

I survived this battle of life so far, but elfs and humans and dwarves are victorious in it.

Ilneval also says, in battle sometimes the strategy needs to change to know victory.
The orc way must change – One Eye's Strategy much change.

I must march dangerous slippery slope in uphill battle that is life. I must learn new strategies so I will know real victory. Will I earn true glory for the ORC or be known as Traitor to them all?

Soubar was always a village that epitomized the ebb and flow of war. The town at one moment would lay down and wallow in its defeats, licking its wounds and then the very next moment, was brimming with the excitement and chaos, like a raging battle.

It was during these more thrilling periods that would draw the likes of a certain black orc in full plate, wielding a large two handed warhammer, to march boldly into Soubar, ready for war.

Having been away for an extended period of time, he did not recognize many of the faces that dared to look his way, with their suspicious glares or sullen glances. Those he did recognize, the merchants, long time residents and fixtures of the village, were too wrapped up in their petty business to care anything about his arrival.

“Hmph!”
Skagrot Skullsplitter, grunted in disapproval, as he surveyed the outcast village, populated with the usual misfit dregs of society. It was obvious, he was not overly pleased to be back. The place, would likely be the final staging point of a long history of great disgrace and dishonour. The only reason he even returned back to Soubar was because there was the slightest chance that perhaps, the smelly hellhole would be the location of his redemption and glory!

He first discovered Soubar while seeking refuge during a very dark period in his life, having just escaped from two decades of slavery at the hands of the drow of Sshamath. During his first days of freedom while adjusting to life on the surface he was forced to live among dwarves, humans and elves. He took advantage of this time to attempt to understand how these weak pink skins maintained their supremacy over most of the lands above. Unfortunately, instead of just learning about their strengths and weaknesses he found, that they were rubbing off on him instead and that he was starting to actually adopt their ways....such softness, such weakness!

His last memory of Soubar was of him sitting alone at Mag’s tavern, writing down scattered thoughts about how weak races would constantly achieve victory in battle, defeating the much stronger orcs. He recalled that at the time, he had written down some teachings of his deity, Ilneval, The Horde Leader, that said: Life was battle, when faced with defeat, change your strategy!

From that moment until now, Skagrot, the last of the Skullsplitter tribe, left Soubar and began living among the orcs of Uruk Lurra while he relearned the ways of the orc. Now, returned to Soubar, secure in his own strength in his heritage, he planned, to continue learning the secrets of the pink skins.

Skag, began walking through Soubar looking for other members of the Crimson Watch. If he was to begin his new strategy he would start by becoming a champion of Soubar. He will find glory or he will find death.

But by the Bloodied Blade of Ilneval, this time he will know true victory!

*Posters have been nailed at or within a safe distance from the following locations:

1) The northern outskirts of Baldur's Gate Northern Farmlands (posted on the Fenceposts of a couple farms)
2) The Friendly Arms Inn (to trees near the main south and north paths leading to the FAI)
3) Candlekeep (nailed to sign leading at crossroads leading up to the keep)
4) Beregost (just outside their gate - our of range of the gate guards)
5) Nashkel
6) Roaringshore
7) Soubar

Said poster is written (or more likely scribed) in a simple if not pleasant cursive, in common, and it says the following:*

Dear Citizens of The Coast,

Skagrot Skullsplitter, last of the Skullsplitter ORC tribe of the Subrin Hills to the north, warrior and explorer of the Sword Coast seeks the services of any citizens of the lands of humans, elves, dwarves, hin and gnomes. Any brave and daring souls interested in either a sizable payment in gold or perhaps simply a potentially enlightening conversation with Skagrot the mountain orc, are cordially invited to a face to face meeting on the topic(s) of Mr. Skullspitter's choosing.
Please do note that, Skagrot Skullsplitter is willing to swear on his honor, to promise to not hurt, maim or kill any interested parties willing to participate. The payment of one bag of gold will be payable for the time and effort of anyone willing to peacefully meet and converse with Skagrot Skullsplitter....the ORC.
If interested please send message of the time and place where you want to meet to The Winding Way Tavern in Soubar.
Please be advised that any attempt at ambush will be met with extreme violence, and also forfeiture of payment. Still, Mr. Skullsplitter apparently does not want to deter potential ambushers, stating that he himself, "fears no ambush".

Mr. Skullsplitter would like to thank you in advance for your cooperation.

*Instead of a signature there is just a crude drawing of a skull that seems to be split down the middle*

((Feel free to PM me with any replies or if you want you can post your responses/replies on this thread))

Skag the last Skullsplitter.
Skag the warrior, mountain orc.
Skag the dishonoured, the failed.
Skag the survivor.
Skag the answer seeker, was not the least bit surprised when none proved brave enough and therefore worthy enough to answer his call to a meeting. This was merely a single attempt to find answers and would not deter him from finding out how the weak races held dominance on the surface.

In one random meeting he spoke with a drow woman of the tribe of the Silverhair.
Having never met a drow of her kind before, he thought her very strange compared to the rest of her already deviant, twisted race. But she proved to be strong, having bested him in arm wrestling. Likely a drow trick of some sort but it still made her worthy enough for him to heed her words.
Instead of trying to enslave the weaker races this one almost seemed warm to the idea of joining them. If not joining them, then at the very least she was accepting of their ways. This troubled Skagrot as he did not understand how such embracing of weakness could still allow these skinny pink creatures to be so dominant on the surface. She advised that it was this very act of focusing on things other than war or dominance that lent the kingdoms of elves, humans and dwarves the secrets to their true power.

She told Skag that he would not find his answers if he continued only to seek superior strength through war.

Skag the wanderer.
Skag would next make his way to the land of Amn. He was told that his kind were not treated as enemies of war there and so thought he would find those willing to parlay with him.
He travelled past The Friendly Arms Inn on his way there. The veteran adventurers of the Sword Coast, that often gathered outside the gates to the Inn, were a bit more desensitized and less cowardly around the exotic or more dangerous beings found in the wild uncivilized lands. But even they, although not always openly hostile, still looked upon Skag with great suspicion and were too wary of him to share any information.

In his time in Soubar, Skag had heard talk and stories of the so called 'good' and civilized races. These were tales of heroism, acts of kindness and empathy towards strangers, or people in need. Seen as weakness to Skagrot, he had still never witnessed any such acts with his own eyes. In its place he had seen more than his share of the hate, spite and treachery from these so called decent and peace enforcing races.

Skag the tenacious.
It was in Nashkel where he spoke to a merchant follower of the god Waukeen. This merchants time was valuable but she did share with Skag, that war was not always profitable and that it was wealth that granted power, not necessarily the ability to be dominant in battle. She asked the next time he felt the urge for violence that he instead repeat the words: Wealth is power.

Did Skagrot finally discover the great secret conspiracy of power behind the pinkskins?!

He repeated the words: wealth is power.