Mogrin Dhuumal

Biographical information

Birthplace Born Died Age 31 Home Gild Sexuality Pronouns

Physical description

Race Ogre Sub-Race Gender Male Height 9'9" Mass Huge and Wide Hair color Black Eye color Black Skin color Tanned

Political information

Affiliation(s) Occupation Soldier, brawler, hired muscle Clan(s) Caste Domain Masters Apprentices Alias(es) Chief

Out-of-character information

Writer VigiloConfido Created on Avatar AI render on Pinterest

* Bald save for a topknot of black hair, black eyes, tanned skin, 9'9", enormous build of bulk and muscle.

* Like many ogres, usually for cultural reasons eschews armor save for some pieces (spiked pauldron, studded bracers, spiked kneeguards, steel girdle). Wears an iron torque around his neck that carries significant cultural meaning.

* Armed with twin fighting axes and a massive two-handed reinforced club.

Ogre: Among the most fearsome species upon Arethil, and for good reason. Possessed of colossal strength easily capable of rivaling magically enhanced foes, and of an astounding toughness thanks to their thick skin and robust physiology, ogres command a dominating presence on any battlefield. Being such large beings, however, ogres in general suffer from quickly exhausting themselves. In all these regards, Mogrin is no exception.

Career Soldier: Mogrin makes his living in volunteering for every state levy in Gild, in plying his trade as a fighter in private business ventures, and the occasional odd job. While not formally trained in warfare, Mogrin has innate good tactical sense, and he excels as a shock troop, overwhelming foes with ferocity and brutality.

* Surly to a fault. Benefits greatly from being around a cooler mind to keep him in check and thus out of unnecessary trouble and complication.

* Aggressive and assertive in his views, and an abrasive tongue doesn't help. Not one to misrepresent someone or something though, or to distort facts, and will absolutely rip into himself for his own mistakes and failings if and when they happen.

* Values and enforces fairness where possible.

* Good at improvising and dealing with surprises, flexible, and likes having multiple options left on the table rather than committing wholesale to one course of action.

* Not particularly intelligent, but not dumb either. Relies on intuitive, tangible sense rather than book smarts or abstract knowledge.

+ Tells a mean campfire story or two, alright. Keeps oral traditions alive. Loves a good bonfire ritual to venerate Threshkuul and Regel.

+ Likes to give children rides on his shoulders.

+ Hates big monsters like certain kinds of trolls, golems, others. Has something of a "pick on somebody your own size" mentality when it comes to these creatures, especially if around friendly humans, dwarves, etc.

+ Has a passion for wrestling, and often acts as an Assistant Instructor at the War College in teaching wrestling techniques, and also competes in wrestling tournaments in the Amphitheatre.

+ Has earned a nickname among Gildan ogres, "Chief," for his size would have marked him out to be a warchief or overlord in the old tribal ways.

+ Chocolate covered cherries are a rare treat, and Mogrin is a sucker for them.

Perhaps in no other Gildan ogre is the religious struggle between Regel and Threshkuul as pronounced as it is in Mogrin.

He of course pays respect to Regel and to Jura, as is expected not just of the city's resident ogres but of all who call themselves Gildan. But Threshkuul, the Almighty One and god of plentiful ogre tribes worldwide, remains to Mogrin and a good many of his fellow Gildan ogres a cultural cornerstone. The Blood Debt incurred to King Andreas Gildal, that which brought the ogres into the Gildan fold centuries ago, has its very religious sentiment backed by Threshkuul, for it was through Threshkuul's ways that the ogres believed themselves bound by honor to the Gildan interest.

While the number of Gildan ogres who have come to venerate Regel only has been steadily growing, most believe that there is a friendship between the gods Regel and Threshkuul, each respecting the other's might. But what troubles Mogrin is this: how can that be so, when not one ogre has yet been proclaimed a Saint in Jura? Humans have been Sainted, dwarves have been Sainted, even an elf has been Sainted. Yet not a single ogre, when they have been present since the very beginning, have upheld their Blood Debt for centuries, and have esteemed Praetors and even national heroes to call upon?

Mogrin is a staunch defender of keeping alive the old ways of his people, even in this advanced new age, and he yearns for the day when he can at last see one of his own achieve the highest possible honor in Jura. As such, he craves a great war or crisis to break out through the whole of Campania, such that the conditions might be ripe for divine glory to be had at last by ogrekind.

Embrace the Slaughter

Care of One's Own

Something in the Water

The Long Dark