A seething horde of Drokan flooded the shores of Pastoria, intent on
consigning the beloved Elves of Phrixus to oblivion. As the Drokan reached
the treeline, their formations were smashed, and the horde crushed in a
matter of seconds by a brutal counter-attack led by a handful of gigantic
humanoids wielding not clubs, but trees! Belphegor was struck by an
apopletic fit he raged so great at the costly loss. Refusing to accept the
failure as a defeat, Belphegor strove to find something, anything, that
could turn this debacle to a victory. His cruel smile became a rictus as
demented machinations began to surface within the depravity strewn abyss of
his brain. Under the ebon cloak of night, Belphegor sent his minions to
Pastoria to kidnap several of the infant Giants. Taking the infants below
Darhok, into the subterranean network of tunnels and caverns which serve
as the detention cells, Belphegor left these children to the ministrations
of his most diabolical torturers. Years upon years of psychological and
physical torture, and neglect in the lightless depths of the underworld
wrought a grotesque change upon the young Giants. They became little more
than animals- feral, unthinking, savage. With the understanding that she
would receive several breeding pairs of the offspring begotten by the union
of Giant and Orc, Ananke formed a tentative alliance with Belphegor.
Several generations of these offspring were spawned in a matter of months,
the aging process accelerated 100-fold by Belphegor so the genetic drift
would be completed faster than nature would normally allow. Five
generations passed before Belphegor was satisfied with what he had. What
he had was a hideous, savage beast, the Ogre.
The pale, mottled flesh of the Ogre ranges from shades of pale grey and
green to a sickly blue hue, and exudes a horrible stench most often
associated with that of curdled milk. This stench is a combination of
their naturally foul body odor, lack of hygiene, and the uncured hides they
use for clothing. A carry over from their Orcish heritage is the most
noted feature of the Ogre's hideous visage; tusks protrude from their lower
jaw further providing the image of a primitive beast. The Ogre is a
stupid, brutish beast, surviving solely upon their unmatched strength and
toughness. Strategy and intellect are concepts not widely known by
creatures whose lives are ruled entirely by instinct and rage. The
original Ogres were bred and raised under horrible conditions of abuse and
torture. Because this was the only life they knew, they raised their own
offspring in a like manner. Ogre society is ruled by a simple rule: "If I
am bigger and stronger than you, anything you have that I want, I will
take, and you can't do anything about it. Well you can, but I will
probably kill you if you try." This is actually more articulate than the
literal translation: "Mine! Me bash you dead you no like!" The weak and
sickly Ogres rarely survive past infancy. Even the strong often are killed
as children as a result of an enraged adult.
Night Vision: Average
Special Limb Information: None
Primary Language: Shangtai
