Dogran the Sinister MinisterDogran created on 06th of August 2020, and is currently 35 years old (268 hours played).
Title: the Sinister Minister
Class: duergar shaman
- Beginnings - posted at 2020-08-07 20:31:39
- Dreams - posted at 2021-04-09 01:47:20
BeginningsA hollow rattle echoed as knuckle bones danced across the stone floor.
The young duergar watched from the shadows as his mother performed a
shamanic ritual to an unknown god. Scrying in bones, sacrificing small
animals. These minor charms were sought out by villagers so superstitious
that Dogran suspected half the effect was imaginary. Still, as mundane as
his mother was, she insisted he was not suited to follow her god. It was
all very strange, and infuriating.
Dogran had always known he was destined for more. His parents lived the
most ordinary lives in a painfully boring village. His father was a warrior
of adequate skill who occasionally rented his sword arm to fend off various
foes, including surface-dwellers and drow incursions. His mother was a
simple village witch. The pair of them seemed content with simply sitting
around all day unless bothered by the neighbors, who were themselves equally
boring. He half-heartedly attempted to learn fighting from his father,
although whether by fault of the teacher or student, the lessons did not
stick. As for his mother, the only training she ever provided him was to
teach him reading and writing. Because of it, Dogran became the most
educated duergar child in his hometown.
Duergars are not a naturally peaceful lot, and idle children can be quite
cruel. At school, Dogran was targeted for his unnaturally refined speech
and writing. The pranks began with name-calling and threats, then bodily
harm in the form of pinches, secret stabbing's with pins, beatings and
bruises. Rather than becoming fearful, however, Dogran found himself
relishing being the target of the hunt. He was a quick study, with a
precocious aptitude for forecasting the behavior of his less intelligent
peers. The more the other children came after him, the more understanding
of them he accrued. He bided his time, evading attacks, gathering his own
allies and carefully planning his revenge.
One night, the two worst bullies found themselves both burned rather badly,
both literally and figuratively: one was sent screaming to the infirmary
shoved into a furnace. Neither ever admitted who had inflicted the damage
upon them. After that, Dogran was no longer a pariah, but admired, and
Still, one with ambition can find only so much entertainment in a village of
dullards. By the time Dogran became leader of the children's gang, he had
already lost interest in it. His mind drifted, as always, to greater
things. And so, he gathered his few belongings and set out, intent on
making a name for himself.
His pasty pale-gray bald head seems dull and lifeless. Deep set eyes
over a wide forehead no eyebrows visible giving him an almost skeletal look.
A hooked nose, which has clearly been broken many times followed by only
slightly grayer thin lips. Stylized twisted runes are etched in his visible
skin covering his arms in their entirety, and the longer you look at them
the more unsettled you become. Finally, this figure a little thinner than
most of his brethren, accented only by the fact that his arms seem overly
long for his frame, while his legs are short and stubby.
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