Bonecrusher "Arronax" Bergeron

Missing in action, dream warrior?

Description:

Level 2 Orc Barbarian, 7"0, 315 lbs
21 Hit points, 17 Armor Class
22 Strength, 11 Dexterity, 13 Constitution, 12 Intelligence, 9 Wisdom, 6 Charisma
Fortitude + 4, Reflex + 0, Will -1
Base Attack Bonus: + 2
Grapple/Melee: + 8
Equipped:
Right Hand – The Fathom V (warhammer) + 9 to hit, 1d8 + 6 damage
Left Hand – Kite Shield with family crest engraved (giant squid) +2 ac

Inventory: Cromac, heavy flail, rusted spyglass, 400gp

Bio:

Of Halflings and Gods

Recently went missing, possibly transformed into a halfing, possibly on another plane with the god of shadow. Nobody is really sure at this point.

The continuing misadventures of a one-eyed Orc.

The ice being carried on the wind tore at his skin, his flail was nearly completely covered in ice. Arronax wouldn’t normally be doing work this time of year, but O’thok and him had quite a taste for ale that wouldn’t pay for itself. He’d been hired by a couple of traveling merchants, they were on the way to Ninnis when the storm hit it’s strongest. They didn’t have any choice, they dumped the heavy bags in the snow and abandoned the large crate they’d been carrying of supplies. As any non-nobleman knows, losing a single bag is a bad day. Losing your entire supply of goods was a sentence to living on the streets, hoping that someone will toss you a copper to buy a meal. So the travelers made him a deal, if he could manage to bring back the supplies they’d give him the 10 flagons of mead in the crate and a 50% discount on anything else he needed. So here he was, hiking through 4 feet of snow dragging a small wagon behind him.

“We’re homeward bound I hear them say
We’re homeward bound with eleven months pay
Our anchor we’ll weigh, our sails we will set
The friends we are leaving we’ll never forget”

He mumbled the sea shanty to himself as he trudged in the deep snow, day dreaming of buying his own boat and leaving this damned snow behind. A cluttered spot off in the distance, he pulled out his rusty old spyglass and put it to his good eye. “Aye,” he snarled “not even half the distance those lazy half-elves said it was.” Sliding his spyglass back into the pocket over his heart beneath the breastplate, he laid the wagon arms down and headed off to the east to approach from the side. Lest he be jumped by desperate scavengers.

“Aye, looks like it’s untouched so far” he croaked. The snap of a twig just barely echoed behind him, Arronax twitched in his right eye. Without immediately turning around he gradually unhinged the latch on his belt, freeing his flail. Bending down to one knee, pretending to search the contents of one of the bags he listened as best he could. Cocking his head every so gently to the right, he could hear what sounded like 3-4 pairs of feet. Couldn’t quite tell what sort of creature they belonged to though, for all he knew it was a pair of hungry bears.

Seizing his flail in both hands he twisted to the right, he let loose a gravelly roar as his flail connected with the first goblins skull removing it from it’s torso. Visibly shaken, but just as vicious looking another goblin leapt at him with it’s morning star landing a blow to his left arm. Quickly catching his breath Arronax took aim at the goblin that had just hit him, with a strong wing to the little creatures ribs a loud crunching sound echoed against the nearby trees as the goblin collapsed to the ground. The two remaining goblins both took a swing at him as tumbled back almost falling prone in the snow. Another swing of the flail, a sickening crunch as it met with the wimpering goblins right leg, disappearing in the snow. The last goblin eyed him up and down, making a clumsy attempt to hit Arronax in the face. With a loud guffaw shouted out at the creature he towered over “I know you’re desperate you petty little thing,” the goblin looked a little confused but was listening “get out of my sight before I remove your skull from it’s frame like your measly friend.” With a brief moment of contemplation, the goblin adeptly removed some small bags from it’s decapitated friend and took off into the storm. Collapsing to his knees, Arronax dropped his flail and caught his breath, nursing the repeated blows he’d taken to his arm.

After a few minutes rest, still bleeding he loaded the bags on his back and began to drag the crate back to his wagon. An hour later he was back at the inn, shaking hands with his new friends the half-elven merchants. Luckily for him one had a minor amount of training in mending wounds, offering a brace for his (evidently) broken arm. He thanked the elf but laughed it off, “We Orcs may not heal as fast as goblins, but I can shrug off broken bones. I’ve done it before and I’m confident I’ll have to do it again.”

Another day, another cocky Human

Arronax was relaxing with a jug of ale when they returned to the feast. An annoying looking half-elf chick, a scrawny human with a crossbow that wouldn’t shut his mouth when they first arrived, and an innocent enough looking religious guy. A day or so before, (his memory wasn’t the best while he was drinking) they had passed through with a traveling merchant he was a little familiar with, James something. They were going to make their way through those damned caves everyone seemed to get lost in. Arronax had taken notice specifically of the talkative human that had made a particular ass of himself by getting chased around the fens covered in oil and feathers. Rumour was that they’d run into a bit of trouble, been double crossed by the guide. They were resting up a bit before heading back, hoping to get another guard or two to help out, perfect chance to make a bit of money. And it had been months since he’d been in a good fight. Why, his flail had been clean of blood for that entire time, a waste of a good weapon in his opinion. There wasn’t a chance he was going to approach the little half-elven chick, and word had it the clergyman wasn’t a drinker. So the annoying human it was.

He grabbed a couple jugs of mead and hunkered down on a barrel next to the man, “Oi,” he slammed the jug down “care for a some dice and story swapping?” he barked at the fop. Nemo (as he would later learn) eyed him up and down a bit nervously, “Well, with the week I’ve been having I guess any company is good company.” The two drank a bit before pulling out some dice, Nemo questioned him “You..don’t mind playing dice with me?” Arronax had been rather drunk and didn’t quite catch the reason Nemo was oiled and feathered previously. “Don’t see why not, ’sa game of chance ’idinit?” he slurred his words a little. This was looking good for Nemo after all. A few rolls later Nemo was up by about 30 gold and Arronax had sobered up enough to focus a little more. Nemo laughed and pointed behind Arronax “My word, look at that idiot clergyman!” Arronax started to turn to look, but as he did he caught something out of the corner of his eye. Nemo had clumsily dropped what appeared to be a second set of dice onto the table. He rapidly scooped them up hoping nobody was the wiser. Playing it cool for the time being, Arronax took a large swig of his ale. “You know, I haven’t always been fond of humans. ’Specially not the rich kind.” eyeing the newly placed dice on the table, he very slowly unhinged the clasp on his belt and wrapped a fist around the handle of his flail. “Hey,” he laughed a bit “you want to hear something funny?” he looked Nemo in the eye, as Nemo looked visibly nervous. “Those dice you just rolled, they’re red aye?” Nemo’s left hand trembled a little as he looked over the dice “My favorite color my good man!” he spoke with a grin. “Yeah, mine too! But that’s not the funny part, funny part is that the dice you’ve been rolling previously were blue.”

With a loud crash Arronax upturned the table, “Cheat!” he called out. “Now now, another feathering if you must but please be quick about it.” Nemo muttered as he rose to his feet dusting himself off. “Oi, I don’t think so boy,” Arronax spat at Nemo’s feet. “You and I, are going to settle this like men. Follow me.” Arronax gestured for Nemo to follow, as a couple of laughing drunks helped push Nemo along. They settled at the edge of the woods, Arronax removed his armor and dropped his flail to the ground. “I’ll give ya’ a fair shot boy. No armor, no weapons. We settle this like men.” Cracking his knuckles he eyed the scrawny fop up and down.

A small crowd gathered round cheering and drinking their ale. Nemo laid his gear on the ground and nervously circled Arronax. Nemo took the first swing, connecting with Arronaxs jaw with a thick crack causing him to stumble a bit, Nemo tried to sweep his leg to trip but Arronax deftly jumped over his leg. With a loud roar he lunged at Nemo, landing a vicious kick on Nemos right leg making him yell out. Nemo reeled a little, regaining his balance he took another swing for the spot he’d already bruised and once again made a clean hit on the orcs jaw. Arronax headbutted Nemo, causing blood to rush from his nose. Rubbing his nose and sputtering “You son of a bitch” Nemo took a wild swing and missed. Arronax laughed and headbutted him a second time, this time making contact with Nemos right eye, it quickly swelled up. Nemo, stumbling a bit on his right leg and semi-blind in one eye backed up and said “enough, enough you win you great ugly fool” Arronax laughed and turned to the crowd as they cheered. However Nemo decided this was a good time to grab a nearby wooden stool and take a swing at Arronax. Yet being still half blind he tossed the stool clear past his right arm. A crowd member threw Arronax an empty barrel, as he let out a loud laugh he turned and brought it down on Nemos head. With a terrible crashing noise Nemo fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Arronax laughed as he looked over the man covered in blood and splinters from the barrel, “Better get that clergyman over here.” While the crowd waited for someone to get around to checking on Nemo, Arronax pulled the bag of coins off of his waist. “Think I earned this tonight.” with a laugh and a cheer from the few drunks still watching. Arronax approached the “religious guy” from the group, “Suppose you might be needing an extra hand now aye?” with a laugh he shook the clerics hand.

Bonecrusher "Arronax" Bergeron

Iddrynaen OrangeTree