[Kransha]

*waves back at Fordim...ominously*

Alright, here's the second-in-command orc. I might whip up some mini-bios for lesser lieutenants of his, since I seem to be also writing the parts of a group of orcs. I assume that any necessary information will be given when needed, so, suffice to say, here is the bio for Bâzzog, my stupidest character yet. This should be fun (considering I've never played a character quite like this). Beware the amount of parentheses.

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? Yes, Land of Darkness The Legacy of Traitors, A Land To Call Their Own, Bloodstained Elanor, Farmer in the Dale

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in? Three, technically, Land of Darkness, Farmer in the Dale, and Bloodstained Elanor

3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn or in The White Horse in Rohan? Yes, Both

NAME: Bâzzog [the Atrocious]

AGE: Unknown. As far as he knows, Bâzzog has been around for at least a century, but he doesn’t care to remember beyond that. Other orcs think he was bred in the First Age by the will of Morgoth, but he contests this doggedly, for a reason which, perhaps, is unknown to even him. He is estimated to be between 20 and 500 years old, according to collected accounts.

RACE: Orc, but the troop he commands seems to think otherwise. He is technically a Mountain Orc, but the fact doesn't bother him.

GENDER: Male, and proud of it.

WEAPONS: This orc is a veritable arsenal of weaponry, which is a matter of pride to him. His weapon of choice is a great mace which is essentially a cylinder of rusty iron with countless multidirectional spikes welded onto it, leaving only some room at one end for a hilt. The massive weapon is two handed, is almost four feet in length (longer than most Shire-folk are tall), and is bound to his back with strips of ox-hide appropriated from raided fields of livestock. At either hip he has what looks to be a long, angular, meat cleaver. Bâzzog claims to be ambidextrous, so the visage of him with two weapons is considered a most fearful sight. In addition to all this, Bâzzog has two broad knives in cloth sheaths, one strapped to his lower left arm and the other to his lower right leg. Also, just in case, he sharpens his teeth with a stolen nail file and is ready to use them if necessary. Of course, if worse came to worse, he could always used his gargantuan fists and strength.

APPEARANCE: Bâzzog is a great, galumphing brute of an orc. His gait is boorish but still proud and he carries himself as regally as he can (most of the time). His form is extremely muscular, his arms bulky and oversized, seemingly too big for his body. His skin is rough and leathery, as darkly colored as dull obsidian. His face is long and drawn like a snout with a bulbous nose, a pair of low-set, beady, greenish eyes, a mouth of teeth that are more reminiscent of elephantine tusks, jutting out at all angles, and a sagging Neanderthal brow all framed by some grizzled, seemingly misplaced strands of hair, raven like that of the elves but tainted into a more sickly color. Bâzzog’s shoulders are high and his oversized arms often dangle limp at his sides as he drags his great weight around like an ape. He is tall in comparison to men and orcs, a most imposing figure in width and breadth alike. He is often clad in no more than tattered, multicolored rags with a hauberk of chain mail over his chest, wrought-iron plates of metal bound to his upper arms and legs, and a disheveled, studded tunic three sizes two small, which he stole of a fellow from Staddle.

PERSONALITY: Bâzzog is, for all intents and purposes, an oaf and a fool, as well as a braggart, a fool, a brute, and holds many more distasteful titles, many pinned on him by those who serve beneath him. Bâzzog is not bright or remotely intelligent. He knows only the basics of Westron, often slipping into the Black Speech of Mordor, and his heavy accent doesn’t help his crude attempts at oratory. He never bothered to learn anything he wasn’t sure he’d need to know, and thus is uneducated in most matters. He is a boor, dull and witless, who does not concern himself with policy or tact. Some Trolls are even more intelligent than he, a rare low feat, even among the ranks of sniveling orcs. But, Bâzzog’s capabilities are unquestioned (for fear of painful death) since the orc lieutenant is unrivalled in strength among most orcs throughout Eriador. Bazzog is also arrogant, proud, and bombastic. He gets too jovial when drunk and too stern when sober, or the other way ‘round at night. His attitude is mostly sour, but he is mostly too simple to reflect any aspect of personality and can go for hours or days without saying (or thinking) anything.

HISTORY: Of his history, Bâzzog knows very little, and, just as he does about everything else, he doesn’t care. He knows that he was around for a while, but how long that while was is a mystery to him. His only recollection of the 29th century of the Third Age is bashing things. He remembers primarily clan wars between his cohorts and his foes, which was basically the same as all other wars he’d ever been involved in, except that he’d been crushing the skulls of his own kind and accidentally killed one of his clan’s chieftain (he was never too good at telling things apart. In fact, he once mistook a very large tree for a dragon). He participated in many inter-orc raids and skirmishes that occured along the west side of the Misty Mountains between his kind, the Mountain Orcs, and strayed orcs from the north who'd fled the Witch-King's desolated fortress of Carn Dûm. Despite a number of bizarre ‘accidents’ Bâzzog was again and again given leeway to wreak havoc on the orcs’ opposition, gaining more power by unfortunately mistaking several more members of the Misty Mountain orc hierarchy for loathsome Elves. He was given several commands of his own by powerful and venerable uruks in Gundabad and surrounding orc settlements, often loosing all his troops before resolving campaigns, but his losses seemed only to shed more of the limelight on him. He spent most of his leisure time raiding while he set up a lucrative conscription service at Mount Gundabad to enlist aid, run by his more intelligent cousin, Gráthborg.

At the time of the Battle of Five Armies Bâzzog was still in the Misty Mountains, taking orc companies on foraging and raiding expeditions. He was single-handedly responsible for a number of mannish settlements on the fringes of Bree-land (including Combe, Staddle, and Archet, three of Bree-lands four major towns) being burned, much to his credit, but still managed to lose all his mustered loot when a band of villainous warg-riding goblins happened to be pillaging the same settlement as he and his loyal men (who all duly routed when attacked). Bâzzog returned to the Mountains after more looting and gathering of some mementos only to find that some unfortunate incident had occurred there, which he never took the time to learn anything about. As the organization in Gundabad deteriorated, Bâzzog ventured westward, rather than north, south, or east where his raiding forays often took him, and found a final command, the one that he currently holds over an orcish company. The fear of him was great enough to 'earn' him a command position over a relatively small orcish host.