Asher Kazjinski

Half Orc Cleric, Follower of Torag (Yes, a orcish cleric who follows a dwarven god) All around badass and ladies man, Ladies love the tattoos.


A huge Bald Half Orc, sporting Scale Mail and a Warhammer and a Sickle on his back, along with a heavy wooden shield on his side.


Asher’s story begins at his birth, Orc tribes in the surrounding area terrorized local villages, decimated farm land, Waves of people came dropping to their knees in terror and strife from the Tyranny that these orcs brought, Asher’s story, half man and half orc begins with the raping of his mother, an abomination was created says the local priests, “Caern Kazjinski, you have been convicted of unspeakable acts outside of your race, punishment…..Out casted from the very ones you love and hold dear in your heart” Caern, Asher’s mother was then casted out of the village that she had come to call her home. Unaware of the dangers that were to bring her Asher’s mother, a fellow priestess who had never seen much outside of the church, gathered her belongings, with a heavy heart took the walk of shame outside of the walls of the place she helped protect and serve for so many years. Caern’s battle with the outside world didn’t last long. Coming across a small organized orcish camp 2 days into her banishment she was captured, but not killed. Many days passed, being strung up in middle of camp, The smell of feces in the air, Orcish grunts could be heard from all around, Snarling at her as they walked by, the occasional mutter of laughing and what she could only interput as Cuss words in Orcish riddled her, Manacles’ shackled her wrists, “This child within me, Sarenrae Bless this child. Look over him and bring him into this world peacefully, let him not know of the blight…the nightmare these foul creatures bring”. Days passed, every minute seemed like days to Caern, thinking to herself “Why…why am I still alive?” 4 days passed when the camp finally packed up, bringing her with. From that point they traveled for another week, “Rest child, for your blessings have been heard, you and your child will come to no harm”. Flashes of daylight and the evening stars filled Caerns head, losing all sense of time and consciousness.
Caerns sight eventually comes in focus, she awakes, eyes opened, staring at a ceiling, walls covered in tanned leather, a fire roars off to the side of the room in a crudely made fire pit. Sounds of orcish grunts can be heard from outside the flaps she assumed as doors. Her spirit crushed along with her fatigued body, she had not the strength to escape, and surely they would kill her on sight of movement, so she rested. Giving into what she had feared the most…..Death….death to her and her child. Were her blessings really not heard? Were they a figment of her imagination? Perhaps her mind comforting her in time of desperation? This, she could not tell. Hours passed, she rested her body and mind, praying in her mind to the only one who she knew wouldn’t turn their back on her. She prayed to Sarenea. The one who gave her hope in the first place. “Is this a test? Why do such things happen to the faithful, we lived in such peace”? Flaps of the crudely made tent opened, Coming inside all she could see were shadows from campfire flickering on the walls as if they had a mind of their own, Dancing in such chaotic ways. Then the eyes…..from the shadow a faintly set of white glowing eyes, large in stature, quiet grunting could be heard, “What in the name of….” As she shouted out as it walked into the light, Orcish in figure, bigger then she had ever seen before. Covered in animal skins and piercings, chains of gold and symbols of a faith she could not recognize adorned this large figure, a head dress was worn, something that looked not quite as a head piece but more of bones arranged into a sort of hat. Suited in what she would call crudely made chain mail underneath the animal skins and a war hammer strapped to his side. Caern used the magical sight she was taught as a child, this being glowed more magical then anything she had ever seen before. The large statured Orc slowly made his way over to the bed she had been resting on. Nothing more than a few huge bales of hay and riddled with insects, Cockroaches and other things she didn’t much bother with. The figure leaned down next to her; Fear filled her body, not moving, her eyes. She had enough fear in her eyes to make up for what she could not show in her body. The figure leans into her, sniffing at her and eventually pulling away, raising a hand to her head and slowly wiping away the sweat that covered her forehead. She felt magic course through her head, not painful but something was going on. She felt relieved, her body could function normally and she eventually gained the strength to move. Laying still she continued to stare into its eyes, a wave of comfort came over her, Not so scared of what was standing in front of her she closed her eyes, “I see you are with child” whispers came from the being, opening her eyes to see it staring back at her, almost with a symapthic look in its eyes. She heard whispers in her head “This child, I can feel its Essence, it has the spirit of an orc within him, and something else”……slowly the orc walked to the wall the bed of hay was laying up against, Caern laying there with nothing but the relief of feeling at peace for the first time in quite awhile. Chains could be heard clanging around, as she looked over to see what the figure was doing. Manacles’, clanged in his hands, as she felt the strong grip grab her arm, but with a gracefulness to it. Both her arms and her legs were shackled to the walls.
The orcish figure began unraveling something wrapped up in cloth from the other side of the room, nervousness began to fill Caern again as its back was turned to her, scrounging around could be heard, savage tools could be seen sprawled about in front of him, crude cutting tools and things she had no idea what it would be used for. From the wrapped up cloth came a book, a book covered in symbols, alien to anything she had heard before. “Orcs….books, that’s a new one” she thought to herself in her head. The orcish figure turning his head to look over his shoulder, grunting and small amounts of cackling could be heard in his voice, almost as if he had heard what she said. Turning back towards her the orcish figure slowly paced walks up to her, kneels down to her side. “This child has value, this child is to be a great hero one day, and the one has shown me this in visions”. Slowly Caern understood what was going on, this thing was going to take her child from her. The voice of a woman screaming could be heard from outside the camp, orc patrols walking by stopped to listen to what was going on inside the tent, only to walk away laughing and grunting, back inside the tent scrambling around and clanging as Caern screaming, thrashing around attempting to break her bonds, “You will not take this child, you monster, I curse you to the 9th layer of hell” spitting in its face, not flinching it wiped its face and smirked. Opening the book to a page book marked by a strap of leather, his hand holding the book up to his face and holding his other hand over her abdomen area. Demonic shrieking and archaic whispers could be heard coming from this creature. Caern doing anything she could to get out. Thrashing around her best to get away from the ritual that was being casted upon her. Unknown tongues could be heard coming from the orc, as the giant figure started to glow a tinge of a dark red, almost an aura around his body as his hand slowly rested on her stomach area. A pain grew within Caern, it felt as if something was ripping her from the inside out, her stomach started to grow, “My child, what are you doing you demon” as the child within her began to grow at a rate unnatural to this world. The pain, anything far from what she has ever experienced in her life from within her, she prayed to her god but spasms of pain shot through her body leaving her silent, tears running down her cheeks. “My Child” Caern replied “May Sarenea be with you”. The pain diminished, her eyes closed tightly the pain was no more, scared to open her eyes to see what happened, she opened her eyes to the figure knelt over her brushing the sweat from all the pain and suffering she had gone through away from her forehead, “May this child bring much rule to the world and peace to both of our people” the figure replied. Looking down her stomach had grown to triple its size, was this ritual to hasten the growth of the child within her? the only thing she could think of. Slowly backing away over to the table behind him he put down the book, wrapping it back up in the cloth he had retrieved it from, more clanging around and clutter being sprawled about could be heard, as she looked over to see what he was doing a crude tool was picked up, something that looked like a saw with teeth from some animal lines its blade, the true terror began, Caern not having the mental will to scream or sprawl about laid there, filled with terror as the orc turned back towards her, again slowly walking up to her and kneeling down next to her, his stature so big he was still taller than her even as he knelt, began to speak a ritual as he took the tool into both hands, “may the gods look upon us in desperate times of need, for you Asher shall be the hope and salvation of our people” Caern looking up “Who’s Ash……” as the crude tool is struck into her stomach, A all familiar feeling shot through her body, pain, the feeling of death crawling in her veins, leaving her with nothing to do but scream, blood vessels in her eyes breaking, leaving her eyes dark red as she screamed out in agony, the only thought coursing through her mind besides the pain was her child, slowly the pain diminished, a numbness feeling came over her, was this what it feels like to die ? the sounds of ripping and tearing as her body within the shackles moved about the bed, everything slowly started to become black, vision blurring and eventually her eyes closed, only the sounds of tearing and ripping could be heard, then the world went quiet. Her last thought before nothingness “May Sarenea is with you Asher”.
Blood covered the floors, bits and pieces of human organs and blood were sprawled around the tent, a crying child can be heard coming from the blanket the orcish figure had been cradling in his hands. With no haste he walks out of the tent and into the darkness of the night.
Darkness draped over the lands of Eldenvet, The chants coming from the church of Torag could be heard through the city and nothing stirred about. Then a gigantic banging on the door, a priest of Torag, startled at first began his way to the main entrance way of the church, creaking the door open to see what the ruckus was about he heard not, but small whimpering….whimpering of a child covered in crude looking blankets, the priest immediately leaned down and swooped the child up in his arms, bringing it out of the cold winds of the night, “By Torag who would do such a thing to a child”. Slowly creeping the door back shut. Outside, the camouflaged outline of a figure standing right before the door assumed form again, the orcish figure. Coming out of an invisibility spell, slowly turned his back to the church and began to walk, assuming the form of a human, “all is in place now, stay proud, stay strong Asher. You are the hope of your kind”. Slowly making his way out of the city into the darkness.
Through the years, the dwarves had come to accept Asher into their rankings, He showed everything promising them to be a follower of Torag, They knew not the entire origin of his nature but they knew he had the enemy within him; he had the heart of an orc. For an orc his mental studies show much promise and surprisingly enough they had come to call him one of their own. They could not explain the nightmares he conjured at night time, screams heard from his room. Priests coming to his aid to see the problem, as the other children in his room, curled up in the corner opposite from him watching in terror as he thrashed about his bed at night, had something cursed him? The priest never found out, years had gone by and the dwarves had come to brand him as a cleric of Torag, for Asher would spread the word to the faithless and bring the grace and beauty back to life in times of such heartache.

Asher Kazjinski

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