A powerful force of nature, the Orcish Divine Fury wields sacred power with unbridled intensity. Their ancestry grants them power, while their belief fuels their assaults. A terrible opponent in battle, they can summon holy blasts of energy that pulverize their enemies. Their fury is infamous, and those who stand against them seldom survive the encounter.
A Blood & Blessing
The path ahead is uncertain. A choice in the trail, a daunting burden to carry. Will we discover the hope? Or will the sacrifice be our fate? Only time can show.
- Hidden truths linger in the shadows
- Courage is our only weapon
- Hope can move mountains
The Orcish Priestess
She worshipss the ancient gods of violence with ferocious fervor. Her prayers echo through the desolate dungeons, instilling fear in even the boldest of warriors. Her {rituals{ involve bloodletting and forbidden arts. She is a tremendous figure, feared by both friend and adversary. Her insight into the practices of the infernal realm is profound.
Child of Two Worlds
She strayed between spheres, a heart caught in the streams of two distinct perspectives. Born into one society and drawn to another, her being remained a mystery, constantly changing. Her journey was one of exploration, a hunt for acceptance in a world that often felt fragmented.
Maul of Gruumsh, Fist of Ilmater
The weapon of Gruumsh, the check here mighty deity of war, stands as a representation of brute strength and unrelenting anger. Crafted from the very essence of a fallen dragon, this powerful warhammer is capable of destroying even the hardest defenses. However, in the hands of Ilmater, the suffering saint, it becomes a instrument for healing. A contrast that embodies the duality of pain and strength, the Hammer serves as a warning that even in the midst of battle, mercy can prevail.
Whispers from the Shadowfell
A veil thin separates our world from the Shadowfell, a realm of eternal night. In this desolate expanse, souls decay, forever tormented by their guilt. Though the line between realms shimmers, we rarely hear the whispers. Yet sometimes, on nights when the moon is lost behind clouds, or a gust sweeps through the land, their voices can be heard.
They share stories, of horrors dreadful, and hoards guarded by creatures night. Some whispers are warnings, foretelling doom. Others are desperate calls.
To ignore these communications is to invite peril. Listen carefully, and the Shadowfell may reveal its truths, but be prepared for the fear that lies within.