Graalgosh the Beleaguered
A very old and very skilled Orc Fighter who was a General of a nation that died because they ignored him.
- Class: Fighter
- Paragon: Iron Vanguard
- HP: 126
- AC: 33
- Fort: 32
- Ref: 26
- Will: 26
- Str: 21
- Con: 21
- Dex: 10
- Int: 13
- Wis: 16
- Cha: 10
- Insight: 21
- Perception: 22
Wish List: Translocating Specter Plate armour +4 Lvl 19 Tremblor Craghammer +4 lvl 19 War Ring lvl 16 Pennent Helm lvl 14
Graalgosh strives without pause or hesitation and nearly without rest to avenge the destruction of his nation and the genocide of his people. For the last 8 years he has been waging a one-man war against his former countrymen – now an army of constantly resurrecting undead.
After years of constant battle without causing any lasting damage his enemy’s forces, he has decided that a face to face battle is futile and seeks out other means of annihilating them, perhaps finding it true origins…
Graalgosh was born to a working-class family and conscripted at an unusually early age, due mostly to his bulk. From the start of his training, he showed more talent than expected, using not only his strength but also thought-out and insightful tactics, often allowing him to defeat larger or faster opponents; a rare trait in his people. It was this ability that helped him advance through the ranks quite rapidly until reaching General at only age 32. He became chief military adviser to the Warlord soon after, and possessed much status and influence in his tribe.
Whilst his prestige in the army had meant he was never short of women, he was in love with only one; Dallani. They were married at a young age and she bore him twin sons, Kuurgar and Grogar and numerous daughters. He doted on his sons, always making sure they were being well treated, and training them extensively in combat and tactics. Graalgosh’s happiest day was when his sons were promoted to lieutenants and he felt the greatest joy when commanding them on the battlefield.
When off duty, Graalgosh was a gregarious, caring friend and companion, especially with men under his command and regardless of rank or social status. It was this attitude and his unwavering sense of duty and calmness that made him a favoured commander, with countless troops requesting to join his warband. With such a strength of will and ability, he succeeded in expanding their nation’s borders further than any time in living memory. He was considered by many to be the greatest warrior in the nation’s history.
The Fall of Graalgosh
With his nation waging a war against Taldaren, he was loathe to overextend their forces, lest they leave their capitol, Krakorum, vulnerable. He advised the Warlord to be wary of their northern flank, as patrols had gone missing recently, but the warlord instead heeded the advice of the Priests of Gruumsh, who babbled on about the ‘signs’ and ‘omens’ that showed that committing all forces to the Taldaren war would gain victory. Graalgosh advised that is was wasteful to send so many and that their currently deployed forces would be able to achieve victory against Taldaren in due time, without sacrificing any more troops. The priests accused Graalgosh of advising in his own interests, implying that he simply did not want to deploy his sons’ forces out of fear. Graalgosh was known to have a much cooler head than most orcs, but the insult against both his sense of duty and his courage was too great, and in an uncharacteristic outburst, he let fly a heavy punch before he regained his self control. Unfortunately for everybody involved, that one punch completely caved in the priest’s skull. The Warlord forgave the assault, understanding the provocation, but ordered Graalgosh to deploy all troops to the Western front, and to personally command the war effort ‘to assure victory’. Of course, he was being sent from the city both as a punishment and to appease the other commanders who would have been enraged to let him remain after killing a high-ranking priest.
Graalgosh knew that he would have a few warbands arriving to reinforce him in a few days, and his plan was to rampage through their main line, coaxing their general into committing himself into the battle, and with a little luck and a lot of skill, will be killed. That way, after some light reinforcement, the army will be free to march on Dariond and onto the capital, while having enough troops to return to garrison Krakorum.
The battle began according to plan, at the base of Devil’s Phallus mountain on the eastern border of Taldaren, near Dariond. Each side advanced Skirmishers as usual, but the Orc skirmishers were actually Graalgosh, Kuurgar, Grogar and their best troops. They feigned a regrouping retreat, and as the enemy line started to advance, they turned about and charged full speed into the enemy centre. The surprising assault caught the main line troops unprepared for a full force charge, and they carved a path of blood directly for the enemy commander, Prince Albrecht. They hacked and slashed ferociously, killing scores of men to gain each meter towards their quarry. They broke through the rear of the line as Albrecht and his cavalry charged into them. Initial losses were heavy, but Graalgosh wrested a knight from his horse, and mounted it himself. He wheeled about and charged towards Albrecht, trampling many enemy soldiers beneath the warhorse’s armoured hooves. Albrecht turned his head just in time to see Graalgosh’s hammer swinging toward his neck at great speed. His armour buckled and neck and head were crushed beyond recognition from the force of the blow. The Prince was dead and Graalgosh gave a rousing Roar of victory that struck fear and awe into the enemy. The Taldarian army fell into despair and confusion without their commander and began to rout. Graalgosh ordered the advance, not wanting lose momentum and to crush the backbone of the army like he had their General. As they rent their way into the mountain pass, they rounded a corner to face freshly reorganised troops, with crossbows levelled at them, and a young Captain rallying the routing infantry. The volley was devastating. It killed the majority of the advance force, and took out one of Graalgosh’s eyes. Graalgosh got a good long look at his new adversary and his men then retreated out of the pass, having taken heavy losses but all but destroyed Taldaren’s main army.
Graalgosh expected reinforcement in 4 days time. He knew that another assault into that terrain with his current force would be foolhardy, so he set up camp at the base of the mountain. The Taldarians kept some pressure on by sending out skirmishers to harass Graalgosh’s force. Whilst the skirmishers never made it back to their camp, the constant fighting was tiring his men, so Graalgosh pulled his camp back further from the mountain to buy them some rest time the day before the reinforcements were due. The morning when they were expecting good news and respite, the rearguard came running into camp screaming about undead. An unknown force had completely destroyed the reinforcing army and risen it from the dead. Immediately, Graalgosh roused the army to fight off this new threat. The battle was grueling as orc fought undead orc for more than two days.
Just as the tide was turning and the undead were nearly defeated, more monsters assaulted from the rear. It was the dead from the first battle, now also reanimated by some foul hand.
Seeing the situation as untenable, Graalgosh ordered a full retreat to Krakorum and what was left of his army fought across the battlefield to return home. They fought with consummate skill and courage, considering what they faced, but even the indefatigable Kaelek began to grow weary. On the ninth day of battle, when Graalgosh, Kuurgar, Grogar and a meagre 100 troops were left, Graalgosh witnessed Kuurgar get overwhelmed and torn apart by the reanimated corpses of his own men and his mind snapped. Graalgosh went mad, losing all sense and reason, breaking formation and lashing out at the undead hordes. Hours went by and all Graalgosh knew was the thud and crunch of his enemies falling before him, he had no care about his troops or even Grogar, just the desperate, ferocious need to kill these abominations. Days went by without sleep, without respite. Eventually Graalgosh could go on no longer and he was defeated. His mind fell into blackness…
Graalgosh the Beleaguered
Graalgosh awoke, with grievous wounds across his face and body, barely alive. With much effort, he dragged himself across the grisly battlefield until he found some medical supplies and got to work tending to his injuries. Driven only by the desire to see his wife again, but torn apart by his failure to protect his troops and his sons, he was a broken man, full of guilt and grief. After a few weeks regaining his strength, he grabbed his trusty hammer and set off toward home, miles away to the East. Making his way home, he dispatched any foes he wandered across with steely determination. As he trudged, hope began to build within him that not only will Dallani welcome him back, but also that Grogar made his escape and will be waiting for him. He clung to this hope to keep him going, keep him walking, keep him standing. As he crested the final ridge he eagerly awaited the sight of his city. After such an arduous journey he longed for rest and the warmth of his wife. He mounted the ridge, eye wide ready to soak in the sight of home. What he saw was destruction. The entire city had been razed, with only smoldering piles left where proud buildings once stood. Graalgosh felt as though he had been emptied, sucked dry of anything he once was. He had no city. No army. No Warlord. No family. No home. As he wandered through the debris, looking for clues to who had done this, he gazed down at the ruined foundations of his house and the crushed and burnt body of his wife. There was no more sadness left in Graalgosh for him to feel, he was empty; save for one thing. One tiny glimmer of emotion in the darkness. Revenge.