D&D Backstory - Clutch, the half-ogre goliath
This is my first time writing of my involvement with the game Dungeons & Dragons. For one, my family hates with a passion that I play. I think most of that has to do with most people not understanding what the game is about and thinking that it was written by Lucifer himself.
If you are of the same opinion, here’s some food for thought.
Christian Gamer’s Guild (I’ve been a member of this organization for 2 yrs)
MJ Young Article
Anyway, the D&D group I’m in is starting up a new campaign and I was asked to write a back story about the fighter I rolled up. If anyone is curious about his stats/abilities, ask me in the comments and I’ll post them there. Without further ado, here is the story of Clutch.
As the midwife delivered me and put me in my mother’s arms, those in attendance knew my life shouldn’t be snuffed out but it would destined for pain. The ogre raid on our village 10 months earlier was still fresh in the minds of the tribe. My mother’s husband was killed trying to defend her. Now, I would be a living reminder to all of that cursed day. My brown, mottled skin. My protruding jaw and baby tusks, pushing through my gums. My mother was violated and I am not a pure blooded goliath. I am a monster.
People were not horrified by my appearance. Disgusted is probably a better word. Most of the tribe felt sorry for me. They were not shamen, but they could tell my future would not be easy.The other children would call me names and tease me. They told me my tribe name would be Dumb Tusk or Fang Face. I would run home, crying, just wanting to fit in but the others wouldn’t let me. The young can be cruel, but so can adults - and they have had much more practice at it. And just when I thought my life was turning around.
All of the young men prove their strength and worth to the tribe by accompanying the adult males up to the highest peak of our territory. We have our own names for the mountains. Telling you what they are called in our tongue would not make a difference. Goliaths are very good climbers. We make games of such things. At 14, it was my turn to join the men on their yearly test. The old who cannot make the journey are exiled, for those who cannot contribute to the tribe have no place in it any longer. The young who make the climb are given their tribe name. On the 2nd day of the climb, we were all racing to the summit and for once I didn’t curse the ogre blood in me. The immense strength I possess from my ogre blood had allowed me to reach the top minutes before the others, even the most experienced of the climbers.
At the naming ceremony the following morning, the medallion of honor was placed around my neck. The chieftain said, “Kolugan Thavaema, son of Yulalgan, you are a great climber and surely the strongest among your peers and perhaps the whole tribe. Your tribe name shall be Cloud Champion and you will be known as such from this day forward.” As I stepped back and took my place by my mother’s side, I was extremely happy and proud of what I had accomplished. My mother smiled and me and seemed to be crying tears of joy.
I saw an old goliath get called to stand before the chieftain. He was hunched over and obviously being exiled. I have seen this happen at other ceremonies. A couple of other old men were exiled as well. I ignored the rest of the ceremony. I was lost in the thoughts of being accepted at last and how things would improve for me now.
A while later I heard my name Cloud Champion being spoken by the chieftain again and I was snapped back to reality. This was new. The ceremonies always ended with the exiles. I didn’t understand what was happening. “Cloud Champion,” the chieftain said, “you have done a great thing and you will always be remembered on the drawing walls. You have reached an age finally where you are becoming an adult. Thoughts turn to courting girls and one day to marriage. For this reason, we must exile you too. Though you are a fine man, we cannot have your mixed blood mingled further with ours. The elders and I will not permit it. Say your goodbyes and pack your things,” the chieftain ordered as he removed the medallion of honor from my neck.
It turned out that my mother knew this was going to happen. The elders had warned her but they still wanted me to participate in the test of manhood. It was demanded of her that she not tell me of their plans. She told me later that they claimed to want to do what was best for me but to this day, 5 years later, I am still not convinced. To give me such hope for a happy future and then snatch it from my grasp doesn’t seem like the actions of those looking out for my best interests.
So here I am in Monmurg. The enforcer at the Singing Dervish. People don’t call me Cloud Champion here. Not if they want to speak another word. Ever. Now, everyone calls me Clutch. My boss tells me when I need to throw out some clever guy trying to count cards or switching our dice for their own weighted set. I also have to take care of the girls he keeps upstairs for the other part of his business. Some guys try to get rough. I get rough back. Some guys get what they want from the talent then try to skip out without paying. I take payment in teeth if I’m in a good mood or worse if I’m not. My boss figures I’m the man for the job twice over. For one, who is gonna argue with me? For two, which of his girls is gonna fool around with a 9 foot tall ugly like me with warts all over his body? Any other employee he hired might try to spoil the merchandise.
Well, mister dwarf, that’s my life story so far. Never in a thousand years could us goliaths craft the wonders your kind do and I was taught to respect that, so you got more than ten words outta me. That’s gotta be some kind of record. One of these days, I’ll leave this place. For now, I got a roof, food and a small wage. Beyond that, I haven’t got much. But working at a gambling joint has shown me that fortunes can change at the drop of a hat. Maybe tomorrow will be my lucky day, yeah?
There really isn’t a picture of this guy anywhere since he’s basically a mutt. Here’s a picture of a goliath followed by a picture of an ogre, so I’ll leave it up to your imaginations what he might look like.
Posted by: Vonski | 10-31-2007 | 11:10 PM
Posted in: Gaming | Comments (3)