Grognard the Drowslayer

Long story short, we free some of the prisoners, start going on our way, when Grognard encourages us to get out of the Underdark. He’s going after his daughter. See, thing is, we kind of don’t want him to die, since we want him to join us permanently. But he’s insistent, and so we split ways, hoping to see each other again someday.

This is where the DM starts packing up, but we ask about the orc. We want to know what happens to him. The DM says that he hadn’t really thought about it and that’d he’d come up with something when one of the other players says, “Why not have him roll for it?” The DM’s like, “You know he probably has a better chance of dying that way, right?” We don’t care. We want to find out what happens to him.

Let me stop the story right here. Grognard goes to the wizard’s tower and reenacts the events of Taken. That fucker killed EVERYTHING he came across in the wizard’s tower. Fucking everything. This is apparently stuff that the entire party was supposed to take on at a later date. The DM rolled in front of us out in the open, and I swear at times he was giving far more stealth checks than necessary, but somehow, someway, the dice fell on this orc’s side.

But you know what? This morning, the DM sent us a ‘short story’ reimagining of what happened to Grognard in that wizard’s tower. I’ll let that explain what happened.

Grognard looked up at the tower, a weary look in his eyes. In all his years, he never thought he'd be doing something so clearly suicidal. Then again, he also never expected to leave his home on the surface world for the treacherous caverns of the Underdark. He tenderly rubbed the nub where a steel blade protruded from his elbow in place of a forearm. No matter how often he used this implanted weapon, Grognard was sure he'd never quite get used to the feeling of it. Still, to save his daughter Zenova, he was more than willing to put up with a little discomfort.


Letting his posture slip into a comfortable crouched position, he quickly scanned the entrance for any signs of wards. Narrowing his eyes, he could see the faint trace of arcane lines. Carefully examining the runes traced within the floor he recognized it as a ward against any males passing through the area. His surprise quickly vanished when he remembered the matriarchal nature of drow society. Knowing exactly where to sever the arcane weaves without triggering the spell, Grognard quickly did so and slipped inside, not wanting to spend any more time out in the open than he truly had to.


Once inside, Grognard quickly assessed his surroundings. A statue of a female drider sat in in the center of this main hall, almost -but not quite- blocking his view of a drow scholar sitting in the far side of the room. On either side of him was a small room which seemed like a checkpoint station for anyone entering the mage's tower. Finally, a conversation with three distinct voices rang out from the eastern portion of the room.

All of this, Gorgnard absorbed in less than a second. Rolling into the room to his left, the old orc plunged his armblade into the drow sitting there before she could even raise her eyebrows. Before the body even hit the floor, he was already making his way to the eastern room, his footfalls nearly silent against the stone floor. Just as he was about to lunge towards the next drow, she did something quite unexpected. Look up, shocked, and immediately scream.


The shrillness of her voice rang out for only a second before his blade found its mark, but that was enough. Not wanting to waste a second, Grognard sprinted out the room, flinging a dagger into the neck of one drow and disemboweling another with his arm blade. Though those two didn't have time to draw their weapons from their sheaths, their third conversation partner managed to parry a thrust from his armblade... sending it inches deep into the wooden bench beside her.


"Help!" The drow shouted as Grognard attempted to pull out his arm blade from the bench. "Intruder!" She slashed her rapier twice catching him once in the arm, though the orc was able to kick her away to avoid any serious injury. Shaking off the poison the weapon was doubtless coated in, Grognard retrieved his armblade and sent another kick at the drow, catching her in the groin just as she had begun casting a spell. Taking advantage of the distraction, he quickly dispatched of her by plunging his armblade into her chest.

Hoping to get away from the area before it was flooded with mages, Grognard slipped into a nearby corridor in the eastern side of the main hall and opening the first door he saw. Two surprised mages carrying stacks of books msg his gaze has the door flung towards them. Within a second, he efficiently dispatched with them with two expert cuts -- one from his armblade and another from a dagger he produced from his belt. Hearing footsteps behind him, Grognard waited beside the doorway and thrusted twice with the armblade as soon as he saw the drow's form appear.


Listening for a second, he could hear quite a few mages scampering about the main hall, but no more attempting to come down in this direction. Taking a look at his surroundings, Grognard couldn't help but smile when he saw an empty broomcloset in the room, just asking to be used as a temporary hiding place for his victims. three looted bodies and about thirty seconds later, Grognard found himself a wand that he couldn't exactly identify. Slipping both into his belt, the orc locked the door behind him and continued in the hallway, desperate to find his daughter before someone had time to scry around the tower.


Rapidly, yet silently moving down the hallway, Grognard peaked through the keyholes of every door he came across. Thankful for his inherent dark vision, he was able to make out that many of these rooms were sleeping quarters, a few drow sleeping even as he murdered his way through the tower's halls. On any other day, he might have killed them all. Today, however, nothing was going to stop him from from searching for his daughter, not even unquenched bloodlust.

Grognard made his way to the very end of the hall, wear a grand wooden door sat alone. Attempting his best to listen for sounds on the other side, he heard bits of a conversation in Undercommon. Figuring it was not the best time to activate his ring of comprehend languages, he was able to make out only a few of the words in the small amount of the language he actually knew. "Find... prisoners... queen..." The conversation eventually finished and footsteps made their way towards the door.

The drow mages opening the door were greeted with blades in the throat. As Grognard slowly lowered them to the ground in an attempt to avoid noise. He could see a far more regally dressed drow with her back to him. Grognard's heart pounded. It was a drow archmage. If she saw him, no amount of skill with his blade would be able to save him from the tortures she could put him through. In that moment, Grognard knew fear.

But fear quickly shifted to white hot rage when he saw the rest of the room. Zenova, his daughter, the one person who he cared about all others was chained to a nearby table, strange arcane markings covering her face and arms. The drow would experiment on a child? MY child?! Grognard gripped the dagger in his hand even tighter as the archmage peered into a crystal ball, muttering to herself. "Where... intruder..."

Grognard has skulked behind the archmage by this point, looking over her shoulder as she peered into the crystal ball. For the faintest moment, Grognard could swear he saw himself within the ball... standing directly behind the archmage, whose face was that of pure shock.

Not giving her another second to act, the orc plunged his dagger into her neck and his armblade into her spine. As she tried gasping for breath, her blood soaking Grognard's body, the orc spoke to her in his native Orcish tongue. "I'm not done with you and your kind. Not by a long shot." Plunging his armblade into her again and again, he continued even long after he was sure she was dead

When he was finally finished with her mangled corpse, Grognard grabbed the wand at her waist and examined it. For the first time since his daughter was captured by the drow, Grognard smiled.


---


There is an expression in orc society. 'A person's family is their life. Disrespect their family and you can be sure that you will make an enemy." Tonight, the drow learned this very clearly. Its a lesson they will keep in their minds for generations. See, in drow culture, an eye for an eye is commonplace, but not even they could have predicted the extent of an orc's wrath. For mistreating his daughter, he would have killed the offender. For kidnapping her and experimenting her? All of drow society was to pay. And pay they did.


The wand of fireball that Grognard found on the archmage's body certainly did help. The combination of a magical fiery explosion and the alchemical reagents in the lecture halls caused quite a bit of damage to the tower's integrity and those drow who tried to escape from the front door found their position being blasted from an unknown assailant in an unknown location. By the time the tower crumbled, killing nearly every drow left inside, the rest of the drow city had counted at least seven separate explosions. Those closest to the tower when it came down swear that they saw him, Grognard the Drowslayer on a nearby rooftop, laughing maniacally, carrying his daughter over his shoulder.

Sounds like the drow were fresh out of zug

Someone screencap this, this is awesome.

>>50518868
thanks mate

Awesome

>>50514840
I really hope your DM brings him and his daughter back into the campaign.

I dunno about her, but her Father sounds like a verified badass and stand up kinda guy, especially for an Orc, to Spartacus his way out of Prison and then Assassin's Creee his way to rescue her. With a parent like that there's no way she could not be at least a little cool.

And to think I thought this would be a shitty DMPC thread

>>50514840
You and your party need to buy that Orc a drink if you ever see him again.