Description
Massive is the word that describes the bovine man before you. He is covered
with shaggy dark fur that leans towards the color of red clay. His eyes are
huge and stare out with a wisdom that is far from animalistic. Muscles bulge
everywhere and the chords ripple with every small movement. As if the bulk
and height wasn't overwhelming enough, wicked horns curve upward to jagged
points.
Though the armor is an assortment that speaks of shock troop battle, your
eyes are drawn to the jewelry that seems both garish and foreign to the
mainland. A huge ring pierces the nose above the bovine mouth and not one,
but many earrings line one ear. Most starting is the chains, not one, but
many that hang from each earring and meet at the nose ring. It is the only
unpractical battle addornment noticable on a creature that seems designed for
ferocious, terrible, and bloody battle.
Lastly the ceremonial dagger hanging from the neck of this beast draws your
eyes. Hilted out of coral and ivy, it hangs down in front of its massive
chest. The only visible markings, that of a Gaping Maw.
Role
Korok Bloodsail, A Life Adrift
Added Mon Oct 24 21:53:53 2005 at level 5:
For those who would seek to know more about the life of Korok Bloodsail, they
must only depart in their minds to the adventures of the high seas for the
telling.
Korok Bloodsail is another in a long line of proud minotaurs who have spent
more time waring, plundering, and drinking on the seas than anything else.
Brought into the life of pirates at a young age, (though its doubtful
minotaurs would lower themselves to such a human label) Korok has spent most
of his life with success judged by the amount of loot taken in a day, and how
much liquor could be drunk before wretching portside.
We shall attribute much of Korok Bloodsails young life to the shallowness of
youth. Yet it would not be unusual for minotaurs to continue that mercenary
work into elder age. Yet for Korok Bloodsail, it seemed there must be
something more.
Now to the detailed and nitpicky, they might say the catelyst was a night of
once again too many parties, on a night of once again too much drinking. A
night followed by a morning with Korok Bloodsail waking up on sandy beach,
surrounded by a group of female sirens, the unformentionable night before
pushing off any notions of a mating ritual far into old age...
...but such would be a digression from this tale.
Instead, it was but a small event that took him to take more stock of the
world around him and put behind him the frivilous. Minotaur Sailors have
always been a superstitious lot and distrustful of magic, but for Korok
Bloodsail it went farther. He was fortunate enough to see far off lands
where mages ruled with ironfists. Where subjects were charmed and bent from
freedom and held bound by unfathomable magical horrors and devices. It was
this that truly gave purpose to his life.
Korok Bloodsail would seek out the way of the Battleragers, finding himself
specially touched, albeit grieved to the core, by the stories of the
barbarian kings who lost themselves to plunder and whom let down their
guards. He would learn much that related to the errors of his past, and in
looking to the legacy of the villagers, the future to which he strived to
attain.
The one thing that connected his past and his future would be the teaching of
Lyristeon. His life had always been chaotic and would remain so, yet
opportunity existed for those with the wisdom and cunning to act in moments
of chaos where others would falter. Aimed only with his religious beliefs
and fighting prowess, would he go forth into his new life.