Skrike Lastbreath

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Sword is GOOD, song is better

Name: Skrike Lastbreath

Race: Gnoll

Class: Bardbarian / Skald

Gender: Male

Age: 17ish


Skrike is 7’4 and is wiry even for a gnoll. His face has been ritually scarred with two long slashes underneath his eyes and snout. The scar tissue fur grows through white while the rest of him is a dusky grey brown marked with black spots. His feet are bound with strips of rawhide, if one were to look closer they'd notice his legs have some rather newly acquired scars seemingly from a wild beast's claws. Skrike wears a scruffy black jerkin that is slightly too small, stretched and patched to fit his frame, over this a red ragged cloak flaps and flutters. He carries a large and weighty halberd with him everywhere, swinging it around oblivious to his surroundings at times. He is well spoken for a gnoll in both common and orcish, having learnt by ear many of the legendary sagas of his land. His tale telling is often interrupted by his bestial laugh that seems to mock with its eerie whooping.


Born into the IceClaw Clan, a gnoll tribe tribe used by the barbarian orcs of the north as cannon fodder and shock troops. Skrike was given as a pup to be a message runner to a female Orcish Skald, a bard that focuses on battle. Through service he showed that he had an aptitude for reciting the sagas and history from memory. He became her pupil, till they were sent to war with a band of Orc warriors and human mercenaries to fight in foreign lands. Amongst such a mixed army where tensions would run high, Skrike quickly learnt to cast aside the haughty and brutish Orc demeanour and outrageously flatter and charm their fellow soldier. Proving himself to his mentor in their campaign, he was given the ritual facial scarring of a skald and sent with a band of Orc warriors to battle a frostwurm in the jagged iceflows. Lost at sea in a raging maelstrom of hail and snow, he was plunged into icy depths, his death assured to be quick. He awoke upon the battered shores of Nurevar surrounded by a wary group of sailors with nothing but a broken harp and a mouthful of brine.

He fought against the threat of the ice elves in his time upon the isles, singing many songs of bravery in the face of a cold death.


Skrike has not been seen about the isles for months, it being well known to those that knew him, that he left to walk the planes with his packmate Olly in search of adventure.


A tale of the harried scribe and beastly ballads. (Character "Journal")