SonOfFire

Blades of the Blood Coast: A Grimdark Mercenary Roleplay

Definitely interested. Merc RP is always fun.

The Elder Scrolls: Stormcrown Interregnum

Brynjolf Battleborn

"War does not determine who is right - only who is left"

Name: Brynjolf Battleborn

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Race: Nord

Appearance: Brynjolf is of a larger size than many other races of men, as are most nords. He's no hulking monster by any means but he is tall and well built even for a nord. Standing at roughly 6'3 and weighing 16 stone he displays the complexion of a true nord with light skin (although somewhat tanned for a nord due to southbound travels) and blue eyes. His father however was of Bretonic descent and as such he bares his dark hair. Brynjolf's long hair is more often than not tied into a knot behind his head in an attempt to keep it out of his face while a full though not overly large beard is diverted into two braids at his chin. He is sometimes described as having daggers for eyes although most of the time this isn't intentional on his part. He is a fierce man who during conversation displays rather well taken care of teeth considering the times. He has a fair amount of body hair although probably less than many other Nords due to his father's genetics.

Like many warriors he has more than his fair share of scars with the most noticeable being a horizontal scar running across his throat. Many others decorate his flesh especially near the shoulders, hands, back, and legs where blows can often slip past a mans defense and leave their mark. Brynjolf is also decorated with many tattoos of Nordic origin, these tattoos range from areas on his neck, chest, back, hands, arms, and even smaller ones on his face. The ink varies in quality with some being recent and others nearly a decade old. Most of the ink is black with occasional shades of blue. Many of the tattoos on his torso and upper arms are covered by a simple tunic and maybe a vest when Brynjolf isn't wearing his armor or dressed up for another occasion. After all he is a simple man who prefers comfort over fashion.

Personality: Stoic, Relentless, Ambitious, Charming, Charitable, Asshole. All of these and then some have been used to describe Brynjolf in the past. Most if not all are quite valid descriptions for his personality. Brynjolf was often taunted and mocked as a child because of his fathers ancestry. "You're not a real nord", "You'll never make it to Sovngarde you mutt", "You stink like Breton shit half-breed" and many more awful things were told to him as a child over and over again mostly by other children and even occasionally immature adults. Feeling like an outcast event amongst his own people lead Brynjolf to develop a soft spot in his heart for the oppressed and downtrodden. He is extremely sympathetic to those groups of people among many others. This also lead to his distaste for bullying the weak or different and it is something he will not tolerate or at the very least not partake in. Few were sympathetic towards him but those that were received his undying loyalty, something he carried even into adulthood.

Brynjolf spent some years as a sellsword before he ended up with Isobel's rebellion and as such has become desensitized to many things including violence. While he doesn't necessarily seek trouble he is more than willing to indulge those that wish for bloodshed. Despite his desensitization he still remains very human and has a good although sometimes dark sense of humor especially among other warriors. He is no fool and knows to be polite around nobility and royalty as well as those who are above him. While he isn't necessarily against finding a long term romantic partner, his previous profession and current duties leave little time for romance and with the death of his lover and their unborn child he often has regrets when romance is involved.

Like many Nords, Brynjolf is sometimes quick to anger and in the past has made rash decisions he later came to regret. His temper has gotten better with age and maturity but he's ended a few lives prematurely in the past because of it and they likely wont be the last. Like the old saying goes, if all you have is a hammer, everything begins to look like a nail.

History: Despite his interesting persona, Brynjolf's early life had a rather boring start. He was born in the ancient city of Markarth located in the far west region of Skyrim. His father had travelled east from Wayrest sometime before he was born to visit the ancient dwarven ruins that rested beneath Markarth. Sometime during his visit he met Brynjolf's mother who at the time worked as a tailor and the two fell in love. Settling down the two had a baby boy together born under the sign of the Lord in the year 3E 425, roughly 8 years before the start of the Oblivion Crisis. Brynjolf was born and raised in the Riverside of Markarth where as a young boy he often got into scraps with other children over things like food and them not letting him play with them. His mother was known as one of the better tailors in the city and was usually far too busy taking care of soldiers and nobilities needs to keep a watchful eye on Brynjolf leading him to get into some trouble with the local law at a young age. Usually petty things like stealing food and vandalism but as he grew into a teenager he began stealing horses from the local stable at dusk only to return them several hours later just before dawn. His father was an avid magic user who often travelled to and from Winterhold for months at a time to speak with locals and members of the college for studying purposes which also contributed to Brynjolf's frequent unsupervised mischief.

Though few in number, Brynjolf did have some friends within the city. The most notable being a young boy around his age that was crippled during an accident while horseback riding. The boy's father was a well respected military commander in the city of Markarth and extended an offer of formal military education to Brynjolf for the kindness he'd shown to his son despite his now crippled state. Things changed for the better for young Brynjolf as he was now occupied learning the ins and outs of melee combat, basic military tactics, and leadership leaving little time for him to cause trouble around the city. He became rather competent with two handed weaponry and as such grew to appreciate heavier armor due to the lack of a shield to protect him. Some years after the oblivion crisis ended Brynjolf's father left for one of his typical visits to Winterhold only to never return for reasons still unknown to him or his mother, though many speculated brigands on the road may have taken him for an easy target. Though sad as any child would be by the disappearance of his father, his new martial teacher and many of the cities garrison stepped into the role of father figures for young Brynjolf helping him cope through the difficulties of losing his father.

With his father gone Brynjolf and his mother's already humble life grew increasingly more difficult now that his father's source of income to the household was no more. This forced Brynjolf at the tender young age of 16 to step up as the man of the house and aid his mother with their expenses. Ending his military education prematurely he began working for local merchants as a caravan guard on many of the smaller trips to Karthwasten and Rorikstead, his job being quite simple, protect the caravans filled with silver and iron from the mines of Markarth from any who would try to attack them. Brigands were a common sight in the Reach as were barbaric clans of Reachmen who still believed in the "old ways". It wasn't long before Brynjolf found himself using real weapons against real combatants. To spar with a friend using blunted steel was one thing, to disembowel another living creature with a real sword was another and it wasn't something Brynjolf was entirely ready for. Though no amount of training can truly prepare you to take another life. His martial prowess was recognized by the merchants that employed him and Brynjolf soon found himself being sent on longer trips to places such as Falkreath, Riften, and Windhelm among several others. The farther the trip the better the pay and eventually he'd saved enough to purchase himself better equipment as well as being able to move his mother from the Riverside of Markarth to the Dryside where the quality of life was noticeably better.

Some time went by and eventually Brynjolf found himself in the far northern regions of Skyrim, specifically Dawnstar. The caravan he was escorting arrived during the New Life Festival, the streets and inns were full with people celebrating the yearly event where food and drink was free. During this time he met a woman who he became quite fond of, an innkeep's daughter who often sang to patrons visiting her father's place of business. The two grew rather close in the week Brynjolf was there and it wasn't long before they eloped with Brynjolf persuading the young woman to accompany him back to Markarth. The journey back was a long one due to the winter snows and the trek through various mountains leaving plenty of time for the two to "get to know each other". Approaching Solitude the young woman became increasingly sick each morning they travelled leading to the discovery that she was with child. Alas all good things must end and while closing the gap between Karthwasten and Markarth the caravan was ambushed by a group of hostile Reachmen. Brynjolf and the other caravan guards fought them off relatively easily as the barbaric clansmen lacked good quality weapons nor armor however in the aftermath he found his lover bleeding to death atop the rocky soil. Several arrows had struck her torso and were lodged firmly inside of her, potions only being able to do so much the young woman perished shortly afterwards.

The heartbroken Brynjolf returned home to his mother who did her best to console him but depression is a tricky beast and he could no longer stand to even look upon the Nordic landscape. He fled Skyrim leaving behind most of his coin and other valuables for his mother, bringing only his weapons, armor, and steed with him on the journey to Hammerfell. He worked as a sellsword for several years serving many people including lords, towns, and independent merchants, taking all manner of work from monster hunting to caravan escorts. He encountered other mercenaries along the road many of which he bid farewell and good luck to. More muscle also meant more profit however and eventually he stumbled upon two Redguard brothers in Dragonstar who were also interested in taking on larger jobs. The trio sought new work in Cyrodiil and quickly made the journey southeast atop their mounts.

Cyrodiil was a much wealthier land than Skyrim or Hammerfell and as such the contracts Brynjolf and his Redguard companions took on often paid slightly better than they were accustomed to. There was never a lack of work with bandits, deserters, and monsters roaming the land as war and political intrigue consumed the region. Sometime after their arrival the trio took on some riskier and riskier contracts allowing greed to cloud their better judgement. Biting off more than they could chew, Brynjolf ended up injured rather badly, the two brothers brutally killed in action. It took months for Brynjolf to fully recover from his injuries, he spent most of this time in Chorrol using his savings to get by at various inns and making occasional donations at The Chapel of Stendarr. Despite his injuries he still wished to make a difference in the world and often donated septims to help feed the needy.

Finally he recovered and was able to stand for more than a few hours at a time without being in pain. Rumors of a woman and a Minotaur leading a resistance to the south against a tyrannical count flooded the inn shortly after his recovery. It almost sounded like a fairy tale, too good to be true he thought. Having done his fair share of good and bad in life he decided it was time to truly make a positive impact in Tamriel, and so he rode for Skingrad.

Attributes:
Major: Strength
Minor: Personality

Skills:

Expert:
Two-Handed - Brynjolf is a large man and as such uses large weapons. His go to is his large great sword but he also has experience with battleaxes and warhammers. He is very much an offensive fighter relying on feints and other trickery to overwhelm his opponents defense. In scenarios where he is the larger and stronger combatant he may even use brute force to break his way through an opponents defense.

Adept:
Heavy Armor - Two handed weaponry leaves no room for a shield which means Brynjolf relies heavily on his armor to protect him from enemy combatants blows should he not be able to deflect, dodge, or otherwise evade them.

Sneak - Despite his large size Brynjolf is more than capable of sneaking around competently. Years of stealing as a child made him rather good at it and sometimes when fighting a larger more well armed force than your own may require an ambush if you want to survive the attack.

Speech - While no silver tongue Brynjolf can at times have a way with words. Whether it be intimidating someone into submission, haggling for a better price on a contract, or even talking himself out of trouble. Sometimes words are mightier than the sword.

Athletics - Brynjolf is a hardy Nord who combined with his youth is in quite good shape. He tires slower than others and recuperates faster. Swimming and climbing are second nature to him.

Journeyman:
Marksman - Brynjolf cant use a bow to save his life but he's had some practice with crossbows in the past. Typically he prefers them for hunting rather than actual combat but will not hesitate to use one in a pinch.

Spells: Magic isn't incredibly encouraged by the Nords and years of torment from his peers over his father's use of it has made him somewhat unwilling to learn.

Equipment:
- Steel Greatsword - A well crafted Greatsword made by one of the better smiths in Markarth

My Hider

- Steel Armor - Armor he had forged while still living in Markarth

My Hider

- Dagger - Nothing fancy a Rondel style dagger
- Potions - Primarily healing and stamina potions for battle but in preparation for something larger he may even bring poison.

Belongings:
- 100 septims
- Flint and steel
- Maps of Skyrim, Hammerfell, and Cyrodiil
- Rations
- Bedroll
- Eating utensils
- A gold ring fitted with a red ruby worn on his ring finger

Birthsign: The Lord

Miscellaneous: Brynjolf loves to carouse with friends and even enjoys games here and there. Gambling has been a problem in the past.

From Dawn Till Dusk - Remastered Edition

Gronin

Day 1, Week 12, Cycle 1
Summertime, 15 C°, Overcast

Uzuk awoke from his deep slumber to the sounds of cheers coming from outside his primitive shelter. As he made his way to his feet and pulled the fur blankets sitting atop him off, two other Gronin he'd taken as his wives rolled around the fur bed to make themselves comfortable. Uzuk quickly donned some simple clothing and a fur cloak as the temperature was beginning to drop in the recent days. Exiting the tent he snarled at the crowd before him, a group of two dozen Gronin huddled around the ashes of last nights fire. "What is the meaning of this!". The crowd immediately turned to face Uzuk as if they had no spines running through their necks. "The fermentation worked blood of my blood" said a tall and thin Gronin from the crowd. He stood from his kneel and jogged towards their leader with a wooden bowl in hand. As he neared Uzuk raised a hand to take the bowl. He sniffed it a few times and sloshed the clear liquid around. The smell alone felt as if it was singing his nostril hairs, it felt as if someone stuck a torch in his nose....yet he liked it. Lifting it to his mouth, Uzuk took a large swig from the bowl and handed it back to the man who'd given it to him. The bowls contents felt like magma coursing down his throat and into his belly yet in a pleasant way. "What do you call yourself?" he barked. The man puffed his chest out in response and replied "Horonno". Nodding Uzuk looked to the people behind Horonno and then back to Horonno. "Horonno, I name you creator of Grog. Make more as soon as you can". Horonno nodded and rushed back to the group to collect his things.

"Uzuk!" shouted a familiar voice from behind. Uzuk turned to face Grazdan and three other men rolling objects behind him. "The wheels have been perfected blood of my blood. You may do with them as you wish". Uzuk patted the man's shoulder while simultaneously adjusting the cloak around his shoulders. "Yes yes, Grazdan. Our people owe you many thanks". "That's not all, Uzuk. Some of our men were out foraging near the hills to the south and found a naturally occurring metallic resource embedded into the hills surface". Grazdan tossed what looked like a rock with blue, pink, and orange tints to Uzuk. Catching it Uzuk ran his fingers along the rough and jagged surface. He twirled the rock around in his fingers and nodded in response before tossing it back. "Gather whomever you need to gather this resource. Something tells me it might be useful. If it's metallic like you claim then it'll definitely be an improvement in our current tools."

Suddenly rain began to pour down upon the Gronin's heads. "Fucking rain. It couldn't have stopped more than an hour ago and yet here it is again" said a man near the ashes. "About that" said Grazdan. "I don't claim to be a god or to be capable of seeing the future. I do however think myself to be a smart man and I believe we should prepare for whatever is coming our way. We've seen storms before but something tells me this is different. Our hunters are finding less and less game as the days pass. The amount of rain we've seen has nearly flooded our crops several times and I fear the dropping temperatures could kill them". Uzuk let out a long sigh and began to rub his temples. When he decided to become the leader of his people he hadn't realized just how much responsibility fell upon his shoulders. Uzuk this Uzuk that he thought to himself. "On the bright side however, we did find a series of caves near the hills. Most of them were empty and with some caution we should be able to shelter our people in there when the worst comes."

"Caution?"

"Some of the caves are situated closer to the sea level than others. Were things to flood then those very caves would become tombs". Uzuk nodded and looked to ocean and then back to Grazdan. "Take whatever precautions you need and whatever men, women, and children you need to do it. Make dirt and branch dams around potential flood points near the caves, prioritize the safety of our strongest and most intelligent. I wish for all of us to make it through should things even get that bad but i'd rather sacrifice the weak than the strong."

"Do you wish to inform the people, blood of my blood?"

"Aye. Yet I grow hungry and thirsty from all this responsibility. Tell them what you need to so that they take you seriously but for your own sake do not scare them. The last thing we need is a panicking population in a time like this".

Grazdan nodded to Uzuk one final time before moving to gather everyone around and make his speech. Uzuk on the other hand returned to his tent and finished what remained of last nights supper.

Time Passed:
3 Months/ 12 Weeks

Time Until Next Turn:
3 months

Events:
The Gronin finished their fermentation and wheel research. A group of foragers discovered copper and a series of caves that can be used to shelter from possible thunderstorms. Uzuk is finding the responsibility of leadership much harder than anticipated and has installed Grazdan as a sort of "Hand of The Leader" for the time being.

From Dawn Till Dusk - Remastered Edition

Gronin

Day 1, Week 1, Cycle 1
Springtime, 20 C°, Sunny

A large gust of wind made its way out and around the hills that made up much of the terrain the Gronin's feet stood upon. The group of more than 100 was gathered around a local river, a large one at that. Naked, confused, and some even afraid, they looked upon one another's flesh and knew these were their brothers and sisters but it was unknown as to how they had gotten to this unfamiliar place. Thinking of possible explanations only created more questions, who were they? Why cant they remember anything? Are they alone? A large green skinned Gronin stood upon a boulder and looked down upon the large gathering of new arrivals, he raised his arms and called out to the group.

"Brothers and sisters, blood of my blood" his voice resonated in the ears of his fellow Gronin. "I am just as lost as each of you with no memories of my past. Yet I know deep down we are a proud people, an ambitious people who wouldn't waste our precious time trying to remember the long forgotten past. Instead me must seek to rebuild!". He motioned to a younger member of the group standing near the front of the now forming crowd around the boulder. "To build a legacy for our young to remember with ideals to follow! I am Uzuk! First of his name and protector of our people!"

The other Gronin discussed between themselves for a moment, some nodding, others snickering and revealing a tusk or two. Another large Gronin with red skin stepped forward towards the boulder, stopping at its base. He looked up to Uzuk and snarled. "Who are you, that I must bow so low? You have not proven yourself worthy as our leader". Silence fell upon the group as what was sounded like a challenge was issued. Uzuk slowly climbed down from the boulder to look his kin in the eye, his back still to the boulder. "I am the first speaker, the one who seeks to unify our people. I will not be questioned by the lesser". Uzuk grabbed a nearby rock sitting atop the boulder while his opponent was distracted, locking eyes with one another. As the red skinned Gronin began to speak his rebuttal, Uzuk threw himself forward onto the other Gronin, rock still in hand. Standing over his opponent he brought the dense, jagged object down upon his opponent's head repeatedly until the impact of the stone onto his enemies skull stopped sounding like a thud but rather a squelch.

Uzuk threw the blood stained rock at the feet of the still silent crowd as he climbed off of his opponent, blood and brains scattered across his hands and chest. "I, Uzuk, protector of his people and slayer of our enemies will lead us to greatness. You need only have faith in me". With that the remaining Gronin dropped to their knees and bowed their heads to their first leader. "I grow hungry. I'm sure most of you do too. We must hunt". A smaller framed Gronin picked up the blood stained rock that had been thrown at his feet and approached the boulder. He smashed the brittle edges against the much harder and denser boulder until it formed a long and sharp point. "I am Grazdan, first of his name. I shall make tools of death for the great hunt". Uzuk nodded and picked out the a dozen others from the crowd, mostly smaller framed Gronin and females. "You help Grazdan first of his name make these tools. I expect to hunt by tonight". With that the remaining Gronin moved off to complete other task. Some began building basic primitive shelters, others searched for fertile land where they could eventually till soil and grow crops. Other Gronin moved off to gather wood, long and slender sticks were used for spear hafts while shorter thicker logs were gathered around for the eventual first fire in this new land.

Hours later Grazdan approached Uzuk who was aiding his kin in the construction of shelters. "Uzuk, first of his name. The tools are ready, and now you may hunt". He handed Uzuk the two spears that he was holding. Uzuk inspected them closely, observing the haft, blade, and what held it all together. "Far from perfect, but it will do. Hone your craft, continue production of tools and weapons. With time you will become our best. I name you Grazdan, first smith of his people". Grazdan bowed his head and hurried off to continue his work. Uzuk gathered six other unoccupied Gronin and armed them all with spears before the group of seven made their way south in search of food.

The Hunt

With the group hiding behind a cluster of boulders, Uzuk poked his head out and for the first time saw what would become known as prey to them. A herd of a dozen or so Krollan were slowly making their way through the woods and were a mere 60 feet from their current position. "These are large beast so we must stick together. With just one we should be able to feed all of our people for several days. We cannot let them down". The group slowly crept up towards the rear of the herd using boulders and trees for cover. Less than 20 feet away from the back of the herd, two of the Gronin in the party stood up and threw their spears towards the creatures hind legs throwing all of their weight into it. The first spear went wide and struck a hardwood tree, breaking the tip. The second found its mark and buried itself several inches deep into its right hind leg, just above the heel. The beast cried out in pain and dropped to one leg, clearly confused as to what had just occurred. The five others including Uzuk sprinted from behind cover with their spears raised shouting a war cry as they charged the Krollan. "WAGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!" was shouted with such anger and ferocity the rest of the herd took off in an attempt to escape. The downed Krollan attempted to make it to its feet and catch up with the rest of the herd but it was too late. The five Gronin had gotten close enough and thrusted their spears into the beast from both sides. None of the blades went deep enough to kill it instantly as the Krollan kicked out its hind leg that was still good into the Gronin behind it who had gone to retrieve his spear embedded into the beast's leg. The unnamed Gronin couldn't even get a word out as his skull was crushed and his face was left a mangled mess upon the forest floor. The other Gronin removed their spears and continued to jab at the beast until one got a lucky strike into it's neck, severing a major artery and killing the beast in seconds. A loud thud resonated throughout the forest as the once mighty beast fell on its side and drew its last breaths.

"We are victorious! Gather what you can and we will return home. We will need help gathering the rest of the meat". The men used their stone knives to cut away what they could and carry with their small numbers. After several more hours of travel the returned home with nearly 100 pounds of meat at their backs. A large fire had already been lit and was ready to be cooked upon, it would also make it easier for those who had to gather the rest of the meat to find their way home on the return trip. Wasting no time the Gronin cleaned the meat the best they could and got to work cooking a large feast for all to participate. Uzuk sat upon the same boulder he'd given his speech on earlier as a sort of makeshift throne, a large serving of Krollon meat resting beside him. "To those we lost on this day. Shall they forever be remembered. One as a warrior who gave his life to feed his people. Another as a would be usurper, yet still a brother". Those gathered around the fire shouted in agreement as they stuffed their faces.

The next morning when nothing but embers and ash remained of the fire, Uzuk pulled Grazdan aside as the other Gronin went back to work with another small group now cleaning and separating the fresh stockpile of meat, bone, and sinew. "Could you make something more efficient for transportation? Perhaps something which we could exert less energy and transport even more stuff?" Grazdan shrugged and knelt down to the dirt. He drew a circular object in the dirt with a stick. He looked at it for a moment thinking before drawing another one beside it and then a third one in the front. He then drew what looked like wooden bars and flooring on top of the circles. "A wheel" Grazdan said. Uzuk nodded. "Wheel. I like it". Uzuk stood up and went back to his throne and observed his people, the 118 left were all making themselves useful in their own way. The quality of tools and weapons began to improve, nearby soil was being tilled for crops, shelter was being built for everyone to get them out of the elements, and now the wheel was being invented. There was also rumors spreading through the camp that some of the men had begun to experiment with overripe fruits they'd found nearby. It sounded like nonsense to Uzuk but as long as they were being productive it's all that mattered to him.

Time Passed:
None, this is the the first day!

Time Until Next Turn:
3 months

Events:
The Gronin experienced both their first quarrel between one another and their first leader. They hunted for the first time in this new land and there are several developments underway including the wheel and fermentation.

From Dawn Till Dusk - Remastered Edition

Starting location for the Gronin because i'm having trouble linking it in my CS.

imgur.com/a/CMG3WMY

From Dawn Till Dusk - Remastered Edition

Gronin

RACE NAME:
Gronin

RACE TRAITS:
Quarrelsome (+1) - Members of this species don't get along well. They often fight with each other and even the slightest offenses result in a fistfight between the respective members. As a result it isn't always easy to organize them into a coherent group, and they rarely get along with other species on the simple account of taking their gestures as serious offenses.

Strong (-1) - Members of this species may appear normal at first glance, but their unimposing stature holds a highly efficient muscle structure that allows them to accomplish great deeds of strength that is simply impossible to other species of their size. They can run faster, lift more and generally do better in any physical tasks they are confronted with.

Fast Breeders (-1) - Members of this species are fast breeders, meaning that they are able to deliver their offsprings much quicker, or will usually deliver several at a time. Through a combination of natural factors, this means that they are able to replenish their numbers and breed new life into their population much quicker.

RACE PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:


The Gronin are a race of humanoid mammals. Their skin colors are quite diverse including shades of green, gray, and even reds. On average Gronin reach physical maturity at 16 years old with males standing anywhere between 6 foot and 6 foot and a half and females standing at 5 and a half to six foot. Males on average weigh between 200 and 250 pounds while females weigh anywhere from 165 to 200. The average lifespan of both males and females ranges from 65-75 years old (assuming fair health) with women typically living slightly longer. Women are on average only pregnant with offspring for 4-5 months with twins and triplets being the norm. Both hair and eye color are varied among the Gronin.

POPULATION: 120

RACE BEHAVIOUR:
The Gronin are more often than not described as a militaristic race believing in the right of conquest. Most Gronin favor martial prowess over anything else, yet they are not a "dumb" race. They still use tactics and attempt diplomacy where possible. Many Gronin seek glory and wish their names to be remembered for eternity, willing to die for whatever cause they might support. Being a militaristic race the Gronin aren't opposed to slavery and prefer to have thralls work the fields and mines while they themselves hunt, war, and procreate.

Gronin diets consist of mostly wild game and farm raised meat out of preference, however they are more than capable of digesting and extracting nutrients from fruits and vegetables. Many Gronin are known to prefer their meat under cooked and suffer no ill effects in the process.

Alcohol is another big part of their diet and some suspect this might be why they are such a quarrelsome species. Gronin typically drink more alcohol than anything else and are known to get rowdy both when they've had too much or too little.

HISTORY: Long and bloody...

CULTURE: From the hills they swarm...

LOCATION: Here

LEADERS: Uzuk, First of his name. Ruled from "the awakening" to present day.

TECHNOLOGIES:

• Primitive Technology

From Dawn Till Dusk - Remastered Edition

Gronin

RACE NAME:
Gronin

RACE TRAITS:
Quarrelsome (+1) - Members of this species don't get along well. They often fight with each other and even the slightest offenses result in a fistfight between the respective members. As a result it isn't always easy to organize them into a coherent group, and they rarely get along with other species on the simple account of taking their gestures as serious offenses.

Strong (-1) - Members of this species may appear normal at first glance, but their unimposing stature holds a highly efficient muscle structure that allows them to accomplish great deeds of strength that is simply impossible to other species of their size. They can run faster, lift more and generally do better in any physical tasks they are confronted with.

Fast Breeders (-1) - Members of this species are fast breeders, meaning that they are able to deliver their offsprings much quicker, or will usually deliver several at a time. Through a combination of natural factors, this means that they are able to replenish their numbers and breed new life into their population much quicker.

RACE PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:


The Gronin are a race of humanoid mammals. Their skin colors are quite diverse including shades of green, gray, and even reds. On average Gronin reach physical maturity at 16 years old with males standing anywhere between 6 foot and 6 foot and a half and females standing at 5 and a half to six foot. Males on average weigh between 200 and 250 pounds while females weigh anywhere from 165 to 200. The average lifespan of both males and females ranges from 65-75 years old (assuming fair health) with women typically living slightly longer. Women are on average only pregnant with offspring for 4-5 months with twins and triplets being the norm. Both hair and eye color are varied among the Gronin.

POPULATION: Up for community vote, depending on traits

RACE BEHAVIOUR:
The Gronin are more often than not described as a militaristic race believing in the right of conquest. Most Gronin favor martial prowess over anything else, yet they are not a "dumb" race. They still use tactics and attempt diplomacy where possible. Many Gronin seek glory and wish their names to be remembered for eternity, willing to die for whatever cause they might support. Being a militaristic race the Gronin aren't opposed to slavery and prefer to have thralls work the fields and mines while they themselves hunt, war, and procreate.

Gronin diets consist of mostly wild game and farm raised meat out of preference, however they are more than capable of digesting and extracting nutrients from fruits and vegetables. Many Gronin are known to prefer their meat under cooked and suffer no ill effects in the process.

Alcohol is another big part of their diet and some suspect this might be why they are such a quarrelsome species. Gronin typically drink more alcohol than anything else and are known to get rowdy both when they've had too much or too little.

HISTORY: Long and bloody...

CULTURE: From the hills they swarm...

TECHNOLOGIES:

• Primitive Technology