Rogan - Dead

Angry Halfling

Description:

Class: Warlock
Race: Strongheart Halfling

DM
Reputation: Indifferent
Alignment: -6 evil
Fame: 1

Bio:

Rogan was short, as far as he could recall this had always been the case. It seemed rather unfair. This though was not his biggest problem at the moment, that was reserved for the rather large anvil next to him, and closely followed by the chains attaching him to said anvil. It had not been a good day.

People can get so upset about a little things, he was only trying to get a little bit taller, and no one told him not the call out to abyss(for that matter no one told him it would answer). It was not as though he hurt anyone, and the priests eyebrows will grow back before too long.

Perhaps though it is better if we start from the beginning. Things did not start well for Rogan, as far as he is aware he was born on a refuge ship bound for some unknown coast, it did not get far. It crashed shortly after it’s departure, goodness know how a mere babe managed to survive, but survive Rogan did. In a rare stroke of luck for Rogan he was found by a caring couple how took him in as a replacement for the son they had lost.

The couple, William and Mary, were not well liked in the local village. the cause of this boiled down to the fact they were not from around here and the villagers let their dislike show in a thousand small ways, from accidental bumps to price hikes. They were by no means wealthy, and struggled to earn enough to get by. Through all this though they were happy, they loved there new adopted son and would do anything to keep him smiling.

As Rogan grew he became more exposed to the villagers many small cruelties, and was pained with their constant reminders about his lack of recent growth. He became increasingly withdrawn.

One thing lead to another and next thing you know he is in the churches basement holding a goats head within a pentagram drawn from it’s blood. Too Rogan this seemed like a rather natural progression. Next thing he knows he is waking from the floor <space> and has sprouted two <hellfire>firey claws and everything he touches keeps bursting in to a purplish flame. Unsure of exactly how to proceeded Rogan rushed to the nearest water supply he knew of, which just happened to be dish of holy water upstairs, it also caught fire.

Drawn by the commotion the priest arrived, luckily Rogan’s claws seem to have retracted by this point and his was feeling rather drained<using>, the last thing he saw before all energy left him and consciousness was lost was the priest frantically trying to put out the blazing holy water.

That more or less takes us to anvil day. From that day forth Rogan lived a rather dull life, he was required to help with the forge, and was unchained once a day to exercise. Blacksmithing he learnt was not a matter of sheer muscle, but a matter of sinews, and sinew he had in abundance, and so he took to the task rather well. This was the cause of a bit of surprise to the villages and slowly he regained a few more freedoms.

Rogan was paying attention to this and planning his escape. The smith had taken leaving him unchained whilst he went out to perform various errands, including a weekly visit to some small iron mine in the hills, it was a good hour away, and he would often spend some time there with the workers. This to Rogan seemed like the perfect time to leave, so he began to stash supplies.

Then he appeared in front of a Door, not your usual door. Mostly doors do not have hands reaching out in what looks like agony through them. At least not in Rogan’s experience. Aside from the door there were several figures surrounding him, one seemed to be the correct size, but the other two were certainly not. One even bordered on the obscenely large.

Rogan - Dead

Realm Of Light salnexia