A fearsome force of nature, the Orcish Divine Fury wields holy power with savage intensity. Their ancestry grants them might, while their devotion fuels their attacks. A formidable opponent in battle, they can summon powerful blasts of website energy that destroy their enemies. Their rage is infamous, and those who stand against them seldom survive the encounter.
A Blood & Blessing
The route ahead is uncertain. A choice in the journey, a difficult burden to bear. Will we stumble upon the hope? Or will the sacrifice be our fate? Only the future can show.
- Hidden truths linger in the shadows
- Strength is our best weapon
- Hope can move mountains
An Orcish Priestess
She reveres the primeval deities of violence with gleeful fervor. Her prayers echo through the barren forests, galvanizing fear in even the most valiant of warriors. Her {rituals{ involve offerings and forbidden arts. She is a tremendous figure, respected by both friend and adversary. Her knowledge into the practices of the infernal realm is unparalleled.
Daughter of Two Worlds
She roamed between spheres, a spirit caught in the tides of two distinct perspectives. Born into one society and pulled to another, her being remained a enigma, constantly evolving. Her journey was one of exploration, a pursuit for acceptance in a universe that often felt divided.
Maul of Gruumsh, Fist of Ilmater
The instrument of Gruumsh, the mighty god of war, stands as a emblem of brute strength and unrelenting fury. Crafted from the very essence of a fallen giant, this fearsome hammer is capable of shattering even the thickest defenses. However, in the hands of Ilmater, the suffering divine being, it becomes a tool for healing. A contrast that embodies the duality of pain and strength, the Hammer serves as a reminder that even in the midst of battle, hope can prevail.
Whispers from the Shadowfell
A veil gauzy separates our world from the Shadowfell, a realm of eternal night. In this desolate expanse, souls wander, forever tormented by their guilt. Though the line between realms trembles, we rarely hear those moans. Yet sometimes, on nights when the moon is obscured behind clouds, or a breeze sweeps through the land, their voices can be detected.
They share stories, of horrors unfathomable, and treasures guarded by creatures shadow. Some whispers are omens, foretelling doom. Others are desperate calls.
To ignore these communications is to invite peril. Listen carefully, and the Shadowfell may reveal its mysteries, but be prepared for the horror that lies within.