New Character Submission - Volga

[Stug3]

Character: Volga
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Class: Fighter
Race: Half Giant
Alignment: True Neutral
Deity: Multiple


Biography:

Volga was small for a Giant but that makes sense as his father was not giant-kind and growing up among full-blooded Giants made Volga's life very difficult indeed. As the smallest in the clan he was forever tormented by the larger and more aggressive members of the clan. Volga's mother Grebnege did little to help Volga as he matured, Giantesses' are not the most loving of mothers and she was ashamed of Volga's half-blood and even more of his small size. Never did she protect Volga or offer any kind of nurturing other than to constantly harass him as the other giants did, although she never physically harmed him it might have been better if she had.
Always the target of violence and petty cruelty Volga learned quickly to use what his smaller size could contribute to his survival. Fighting for food was constant in the clan and Volga's' size made it easier to wriggle into the writhing, battling mass to snatch some food for himself and once in hand he could fit into places too small for the others to get at him while he ate. Although he was half the size of even the smallest 'full bloods' Volga could take just as much punishment as the larger giants; this most likely stems form him being a target of constant beatings at the hands of the clan. Often left bloody and bruised but never severely injured form the others attention. Volga learned quickly to take the blows as fighting back only made it more fun for the others and they would quickly escalate to vicious attacks. Life in the clan for a 'runt' was terribly difficult not to mention painful and probably going to be very short for Volga.
After a particularly nasty fight with two others Volga made the decision to leave...
Having nothing of his own it was easy to walk away; even leaving his mother was not hard, not that she'd been much of a mother anyhow. Moving mostly at night to avoid attracting attention Volga tried to put as much distance as he could between his clan and himself. Living off the land was easy and not much different than it had been in the clan, except he did not have to fight to keep what he collected. Berries and small game mostly, it takes a lot of rabbits, squirrels and an occasional skunk to fill up a giant but he did well and was not often hungry.
Volga traveled long and far, how long he could not say. (How do giants keep time?)
He encountered roads and began spending much time just watching them from a distance, attracted by the carts and the other road traffic Volga sat hidden in the bushes and just watched and watched and watched. From his small 'camp'; really just a spot with fewer rocks, a pile of leaves and some branches pulled over for a bit of cover from the rain Volga just observed as the world went about its business. What else was there for him to do...
For many days Volga watched the comings and goings along the road but he had been the too long and gathering food was becoming a problem as he had eaten nearly everything edible in the area. It was time to move on again.
Collecting his meager belongings he put them into a cloth sack he had found while foraging for food. A few small animal skulls, some berries and a badly bent and very rusty sword we all he could claim as his.
Volga moved a few miles or more, (Again how do giants measure distances?) once again making a small camp in the brush by a road. He moved some stones from his sleeping area, collected armfuls of leaves to bed down on, pulled together some of the overhanging branches to keep out some rain and sat down to watch...
This road was much like the first with its ebb and flow of traffic, with the exception of the fact that now and again a group of men appeared and stopped people moving along the road. Sometimes the got a small bag or sometimes they climbed up in the wagons to take some things out. Other times there were raised voices and perhaps a struggle over some of the wagons contents but nothing serious. For days Volga watched this scene unfold, time and time again. Fights and strife were a daily occurrence for Volga in the clan and he never thought much about it.
Late on afternoon as the sun sank towards the trees Volga was just getting ready to head out to scavenge for his supper. A small wagon made its way along the road pulled by a horse so scrawny even Volga would have passed it up as a meal. Leading the horse along by the reigns as if he were afraid his additional weight might finish the pitiful horse was a small man (Who isn't small to a Half Giant?) with silver hair. As Volga waited for him to pass so he could start his nightly scrounging for food. Sitting quietly in the brush Volga was startled by raised voices on the road and shifting to get a look he saw the men had stopped the little wagon on the road. The little man was yelling loudly and gesturing wildly at the cart and horse all the while being pushed around inside the circle of men. As he was pushed from one man to another he staggered and fell to the ground at their feet. On of the men landed a solid kick as the little man tried to get to his feet and he collapsed hard again. Seeing the weakness the group pounced on the little man at once and pummeled him with a series of kicks and blows all the while laughing. While most of the men were busy with the little man two of them were going through the wagon and throwing stuff from the back to the ground. Watching the little man being set upon by the group Volga remembered what it was like to be attacked from all sides.
Why he did what came next is even a mystery to Volga, perhaps it was the years of beatings he took at the hands of the larger clan members...
Volga has little sense of right or wrong, where would he get that kind of understanding in the clan. Certainly not from his mother or any of the daily occurrences within the clan...beating another for food does not instill morals in the normal sense. Volga's Moral compass may be askew but it does function, just not the way everyone else's does. If it makes Volga angry, or hurts him or upsets him then it is wrong in Volga's eyes. If it hurst others it may be right OR wrong depending on the circumstances at the time. Why he reacts to somethings and not others that may be viewed as wrong by most largely depend on previous events in his life.
Anger boiled in him and he exploded from the bushes bellowing with rage. So terrible was his yell that the frail horse stiffened for a second and keeled over, its legs out straight and stiff. One of the men fell backwards from the wagon and the knot of men surrounding the prone figure of the little man all stopped in mid strike. Every head came around in Volga's direction and each held a look of horror at seeing the hulking, bellowing form erupting from the dark underbrush. Two fled immediately; bounding down the road in the direction the wagon had come, the rest either frozen with fear or planning to stand their ground just continued to gape at Volga as he closed on them. Having left his only weapon (if that bent and rusty sword can be called a weapon) behind he yanked a dead tree loose on his way by and now armed with eight feet of tree Volga was upon the men...
Two lay dead; twisted at odd angles they lay motionless where they landed from the terrific impacts of the tree trunk and the rest scattered to the winds. The little man lay cowering on the ground not sure what had happened or if he was next. The poor horse dead as a stone continued to lay there stiff legged. Bleeding from a few cuts Volga towered over the prone man, bringing up the makeshift club he hurled it away. The little man stared open mouthed as Volga turned and disappeared into the bushes back the way he came.
Not giving it a second thought Volga made his nightly forage for food and returned well after dark to his spot in the underbrush. He could see that there was no wagon, no bodies and no horse, only empty road...
A few days later food began to appear along the side of the road where the wagon had been, nothing fancy, just bread a bit of cheese and some milk in a bucket. He watched the food for a while and seeing nothing to give him cause to worry he cautiously collected it and took it back. This continued for a few days and then one day the little man stood by the food and just waited and waited and waited. Volga watched him all day just stand there looking into the bushes where Volga sat, watching back...
Everyday the little man would come, watch and wait till dark. Volga waited and watched too.
Finally Volga decided to come out of the bushes to take the food while the little man was still there and he slowly moved to the road. The little man made no move to run but only looked up further and further as Volga loomed over him, until he was looking almost straight up at Volga and smiled broadly...
It's been nearly six years since that day on the road, the day Volga's life changed in ways he could never have imagined.
The little silver haired man's name was Zero Mosel, a small time farmer and part-time blacksmith. Volga lived and worked the land with Zero doing most of the heavy work; moving rocks from the field, moving hay bales or what ever was asked of him. I took three years for Zero to teach Volga enough common to make it possible to communicate without so many hand gestures that Zero got dizzy and had to sit down, while Volga looked on puzzled.
Zero's smithy had an odd collection of mismatched bits of armor and a few weapons not meant for farming just piled up collecting dust and spiders in the corners. Chopping wood was on of Volga's daily jobs and he was really good at it, Zero had given him the ax but it was pitifully small for Volga to use well and he disappeared in to the smithy. With much noise and a cloud of dust Zero appeared again dragging behind him a much larger ax, almost as big as he was. Volga never had trouble with chopping wood again! Five good swings would fall most trees and he could split logs with no effort at all, simply letting the ax fall would almost always split them on the first try.
Volga liked the ax work and spent many hours just happily chopping wood until there were large piles of it all over the property. Seeing the Volga would soon deforest the entire property Zero made a dummy out of the odd bits of armor laying about so Volga could 'play' with his ax and not cut down every tree in sight. He spent hours a day working with that dummy and when it got to be too easy to hit Zero made it so it would spin and when that got too easy he put a rust sword on one arm. This was both good and bad, Volga liked the spinning dummy but not so much the sword that cut him when he was slow to block with the ax. Zero solved that problem as well; he took the door off the wood shed and put straps on it so Volga could use it as a shield, Volga loved it! He could now hit the dummy and send it spinning and block the sword with the 'shield'. Volga liked it so much he decorated it with small animal skulls and paint, much to Zero's dismay that this was done in the house and Volga was forbidden to pain in the house ever again.
Life with Zero was better than Volga could have dreamed. Zero taught him to speak enough passable common to communicate well, thought he'd never be a statesman or anything. He loved to work the land and especially working with the ax and his 'shield' against the dummy, which by now had been replaced many times over. He had learned so much from Zero and the kindness Zero showed him was seemingly limitless.
Zero died on a full moon and Volga buried him on the land he had so loved and loved to share with Volga. For the first time in his life Volga's eyes were wet but he knew not why, giants don't cry much...
In the morning Volga set free the few remaining animals a few chickens and a cantankerous old goat that bleated angrily as he lifted it from the pen. Taking his ax, 'shield', an old pack and some food from the house, he filled the house with as much wood as he could fit and set the house and shed alight. This had been Zero's house first and then Zero shared it with him and it had become home... a word Volga had taken months to understand and now would miss forever... Without Zero this was not home it was just a house and without Zero, Volga needed no house. For the years before he met Zero the only concern was survival, where was Volga's next meal coming from and that was about it. Never did he have concerns over the affairs of others, what they did with their time was their business and of no consiquence to Volga. He did not care if crops were harvested on time or that briggands stopped the odd cart or travler from time to time. What were these things to him? What did it affect his ability to survive or why should he care. Just as the now empty house stood for little more than an empty bucket.
With a final look at the blazing structure Volga took up his ax and shield, tied the pack to his belt and walked off...

[jrizz]

Your character has been approved.

Server address is west.layonara.com
Password is layoplayer

Some final notes on character creation:

• Please note that racial adjustments for players with subraces are skin based and thus get applied after getting in game.
• Only two ability scores can be less than 10 and only one can be less than 8 after racial adjustments
• Brownies, when selecting a head, the head you choose on the halfling selection will correspond to that numbered head for elves (for example, clicking right 6 times on the head selection during character creation will take the 6th head when clicking right on the elf creation)
• Half-giants and ogres, please ask for a GM (type /dm Anyone here?) if you would like to change to a custom skin.

Have fun!

[jrizz]

Stug,
After deeper review of this very well written submission we will have to ask for you to better justify the TN alignment. I will send you a PM about this.

jrizz

[jrizz]

PM sent:
Hi Stug,
I was premature in my approval of your submission. It was so well written and portrayed a HG so well that I over looked one thing. We feel that the TN alignment needs more support. I have to ask you to go back to the submission and address this. Sorry for the inconvenience and thank you for the extra work.

jrizz

[Stug3]

I PM'd you also in addition to adding a bit for the TN

[jrizz]

can you look at the last two paragraphs again. See if there is anything you can do there to reflect TN a little better without changing the flavor of the story.

thanks

[Stug3]

I'll give it a shot.

[jrizz]

Thanks for the extra work. Please enjoy playing.


cheers