A fearsome force of nature, the This Half-Orc Divine Fury wields holy power with unbridled intensity. Their heritage grants them might, while their belief fuels their attacks. A dreaded opponent in battle, they can wield holy blasts of energy that shatter their enemies. Their passion is unstoppable, and those who face them never survive the encounter.
This Blood & Blessing
The way ahead is blurred. A fork in the road, a difficult burden to shoulder. Shall we stumble upon the hope? Or will the blood be our fate? Only destiny can show.
- Mysteries lie dormant
- Strength is our true weapon
- Belief can shift mountains
The Orcish Priestess
She worshipss the primeval deities of violence with gleeful fervor. Her chants echo through the grim forests, galvanizing fear in even the most valiant of warriors. Her {rituals{ involve offerings and shadowy rituals. She is a tremendous figure, feared by both friend and foe. Her knowledge into the ways of the infernal here realm is extensive.
Girl of Two Worlds
She strayed between realities, a spirit caught in the currents of two distinct perspectives. Born into one society and drawn to another, her sense of self remained a mystery, constantly changing. Her journey was one of understanding, a hunt for belonging in a realm that often felt divided.
Hammer of Gruumsh, Fist of Ilmater
The tool of Gruumsh, the mighty god of war, stands as a symbol of brute strength and unrelenting fury. Crafted from the strongest metal of a fallen dragon, this powerful hammer is capable of shattering even the thickest defenses. However, in the hands of Ilmater, the suffering divine being, it becomes a weapon for healing. A mystery that embodies the duality of pain and strength, the Hammer serves as a reminder that even in the midst of warfare, mercy can prevail.
Whispers from the Shadowfell
A veil sheer separates our world from the Shadowfell, a realm everlasting night. In this desolate expanse, souls drift, forever tormented by their past. Though the line between realms flutters, we rarely hear those moans. Yet sometimes, on nights when the moon is hidden behind clouds, or a breeze sweeps through the land, their voices can be felt.
They share stories, of horrors dreadful, and possessions guarded by creatures of darkness. Some whispers are omens, foretelling doom. Others are sorrowful laments.
To ignore these communications is to invite peril. Listen carefully, and the Shadowfell may reveal its secrets, but be prepared for the fear that lies within.