Kurdran WildHammer (Tak Magath)

Dwarven Badass


One Unique Thing:

Stone Speak – Rocks speak to Kurdrin.

Icon Relationships:

Dwarf King: -1
Orc Lord: -2

Below are listed as Modifier + Level
Strength +7
Constitution +7
Dexterity +4
Intelligence +1
Wisdom +3
Charisma +3
AC: 20
PD: 16
MD: 12

Base HP 60
Recoveries 9

Pit Fighter +4
Dwarven Knowledge +2
Nature Touch +2


Middle of winter, a caravan of dwarves moving between homes stops for the night. About halfway between the capitol and their home, they stop at a cave nearby. Little Kurdran, still a young dwarf, hops down from the wagon and hobbles over to a nearby boulder. As he tended to do, he plops down behind it and falls asleep, listening to the humming of sleeping rocks. Nothing was more comforting to him. The next day he wakes up, alone. The only sound to comfort him is the consistent humming of the rocks, but the caravan is gone. He wanders along the path towards where he believes their home is, but eventually his little legs can take him no further. He passes out in the snow, and his story should have ended there.
Three days later he wakes up in a small room; too small to walk around much, but enough to lay down comfortably. The only things in the room are a blanket, and a loaf of bread. In front of him is a door, but when he tries to open it, its locked from the outside. Afraid and alone, Kurdran does what he always does; talks to the stones. They tell him that he is in an orc tribal camp; one used for raids on the small towns nearby. A few hours later, footsteps outside the door. It swings open quickly and a hulking green frame takes up the entire doorway. It looks down at him with an expressionless face before moving inside. The orc grabs Kurdran by the arm and hoists him to his feet before pushing him out the door. He leads him up to another door, which leads outside into a large ring. The orc hands him a wooden club and a small wooden shield and nudges him forward. In the ring are about 30 assorted people of different races and ages. They are all hitting different training dummies, and Kurdran quickly realizes he is meant to do the same.
In the group of people there are 3 dwarves, but nobody in the arena is talking. Despite this, Kurdran attempts to talk to them. “Hey, what are we doing here?” he asks the nearest Dwarf. Again, no reply from anyone. Everything in the arena is silent other than the noises of wood clubs on wood dummies. They all hit the dummies for hours on end, before they’re pushed into a small room and handed meager rations of food. After this, they’re pushed back into their cells. This repeats for months. Over time, Kurdran becomes an impressive fighter. After a year, some of the assorted people even talk to him. One of the dwarves begins to help him hone is skills in combat. He teaches him how to use his stout legs as a gift, making it much harder to knock him down. This other dwarf, known only as Mur, spars with Kurdran every day. After about 6 months, Kurdran notices a pattern; every 3 weeks, 4 people leave the group, and 4 are brought in to replace them. Sometimes, the people brought in are immediately sent out the next rotation. 7 months after his apparent capture, Kurdran enters the yard and looks around for Mur, only to see a human in the spot where he normally trained. It didn’t take long to figure out that he had been taken away to wherever they went. Friendless and bitter, Kurdran continued to train, talking to only the rocks. His fighting skills were impressive, but what was far more impressive was his resilience. No matter who amongst the group he fought, very few could get their weapons past his shield, and those who did, found themselves hitting an unwavering wall. Not once was Kurdran defeated in the training grounds, and after another 3 weeks, the orcs seemed to notice too.
Far before the sun rose, Kurdrans cell door was pushed open. In came two orcs, both faces he had never seen at the training camp before. He was pushed out of the cell and immediately his hands were bound. Led into a group of men, he was tied to them. They were then led on a 4 day march to the south. After the 4 days passed, he found himself approaching a much larger orc camp. This camp, according to the muttering of a few of his fellow prisoners, was known as Ezard. This was one of the biggest orc “cities” in the world, according to the men. They entered the large wooden gate and inside was a remarkable sight. While the camp they had been in before was certainly impressive, with wooden gates and a few dozen orcs, this was something else. Stone buildings appeared everywhere, thousands of orcs walking through the streets. None of them gave a second glance to Kurdran or his group. The group was eventually led further into the city until they abruptly were stopped. A group of orcs all wearing the same armor began to walk up and down the line of men tied together. One of the men in the line decided to show his defiance, and spit in the orcs face. Within a second, the man’s head was sent flying past Kurdran. Kurdran stared at it, terrified. This was the first time he had seen death. Despite this, he stood there, unwavering, looking forward. The orc guards shouted something, and then they continued moving. They were shoved into a prison, split into individual cells. The next day, they found themselves in a brand-new arena. Only this time, Kurdran noticed there were seats for spectators. Thousands of seats. One man was picked from the group, and then the rest of us were sent to sit in the spectator seats. The man was given a wooden club, and a shield. From the opposite side of the arena, a gate opened and in came a single bear. It looked angry and a little hurt. Two orcs held it with nooses around its neck, prodding it into the ring before closing the gate behind it. It was clear to both the bear and the young man in the ring that they were meant to be fighting. The bear charged the man, and he froze. Within a minute, he was ripped apart, the bear now covered in his blood. The orcs didn’t wait, one of them walked up into the stands and grabbed the nearest person; Kurdran, and brought him down into the ring. The bear continued devouring the man for a few minutes before turning its attention to Kurdran. It charged him, and he began to lock up. Suddenly, the stones around him began to hum again. They whispered encouragement and told him what to do. His muscles relaxed, and as the bear reached him, Kurdran crouched lower, shield above him, and flipped the bear over him, using its momentum to make it easier. The bear crashed into the ground, and the second it hit the stone, Kurdran brought his hammer down on its head, killing it instantly. Everyone froze in the arena. Not a single person made a sound, except the orcs. Two of them began to cheer, and three others clapped and hooted wildly. One of the orcs came up to Kurdran, clapped him on the shoulder, and led him out of the ring. Even as this happened, another man was pushed into the ring to fight another bear.

The next day, Kurdran was brought back to the arena, only this time, he was given a Stone hammer, and an iron shield. He was held in the back for a few hours, and as time went by he heard thousands of distant footsteps and cheers. Another hour went past and he was brought into the arena. There, he found himself face to face with a middle-aged human, and surrounded by thousands of cheering orcs in the stands. It was clear they were meant to fight, and the human wasted no time. He charged Kurdran, and this time, Kurdran did not falter. He quickly pushed away the man’s attacks with his shield arm, and brought his hammer into the man’s side, instantly crushing his ribs. The man lay on the ground, and Kurdran took a step back. Looking around for the guards to come and take him away, Kurdran noticed that the crowd was all still watching him. An important looking orc sat on a raised platform above the crowd. He grinned down, and slid his thumb across his throat and pointed at the man on the ground. Kurdran knew what they wanted, and hesitated. He was fine with fighting an enemy to the death, but an execution like this was something else. The crowd began to jeer and boo. The stones whispered to Kurdran and told him what he already knew. In an instant, he brought the hammer down on the man’s skull, killing him before he could even look up. The crowd erupted into a cheer and Kurdran was escorted back to his prison. This went on for 10 years. Kurdran killed thousands of people in that arena, never once losing. He had been trained to do this, and eventually any hesitation behind his swings disappeared. He was fighting for his life, and he knew that. He was the champion of the arena; anyone who was put up against him had to accept their fate. The orcs gave him the nickname “Tak Magath” which meant “The Hammer.” His strength was so famed that even the Orc Lord took notice. In a surprise visit, the Orc Lord himself came to one of Kurdrans fights. In this one, Kurdran was up against 4 captured soldiers of the Empire. The fight lasted no more than two minutes. The first soldier tried to lock up his hammer with his sword, but Kurdran quickly swept his legs and brought the hammer down onto his head, even as he blocked off the other three with his shield. The second soldier was knocked away with a shield bash as Kurdran brought his hammer up into the thirds jaw. The fourth faced the wrath of Kurdrans shield as well, which he used to pin him against the wall, before slamming his hammer into his side repeatedly. The fourth tried to run but only served to put his back to a wall, which “Tak Magath” used as a canvas for the soldier’s blood. The Orc Lord looked down at Kurdran, expressionless. He nodded at him, accepting his strength, and then left.
Another month passed, and Kurdran decided he was done with the arena. He had learned enough Orcish to hold a conversation at this point, and told his guards that he wanted to leave. They laughed, assuming he was joking, and Kurdran didn’t laugh back. Instead, he grabbed one of them by the arm and threw him into the other. He grabbed the guards hammer and crushed their legs before walking off. A few guards tried to stop him, but any who knew the story of “Tak Magath” stayed away. He eventually walked out, and made his way to the Dwarven capitol, intending to find his family. There he found a group of idiots and fought demons and goblins with them.

Kurdran WildHammer (Tak Magath)

Justice upon Vengeance tylermorrill