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Description
In the same adventuring party as Torinn : this duo comes from my Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition campaign. What follows is their back-story, as written by Ghore Gutz' player. As a brief foreword: elves in this setting are not born, as animals are; they are sung into being as a consequence of the love (or, occasionally, lust) of their parents. Alas, Ghore Gutz did not have such fortunate beginnings...

What came before

Ghore Guts’ song cannot be sung without first understanding his heritage.

Two clan eldars of the Bellicoso Wood Elf Clan in the Aedinae Woods, The Choirmaster (Arch-Bard loremaster) Allocushion and his duet partner Tiraid of the Forest Floor Rangers have sung three children into existence. They are Requium, the eldest, the unfortunate Eulowgi, and their newest overture, Soliloqui. The clan in general is seen as a bit of a phenom. It is said that one of their ancestors was a champion of the elf queen Valuria during the war with her sister, Lloth. The epics sing that Lloth cursed the champion’s descendants to be without wisdom when they are intelligent, or be daft if they are wise. Regardless the family seems to produce peerless individuals when it comes to raw skill and they seem to thrive despite their mental eccentricities. A Bard like his father, Requium is currently 521 years old and one of the most handsome elves in the Aedinae, his hair the colour of the forest soil and a smile or smirk that glints like reflecting water. The experienced ranger Eulowgi would be 289 if she were still being sung, with skin the colour of the moon and hair like the night sky. Young Soliloqui, who moves like a flowing forest brook and has hair that matches the seasonal colour of her home forrest meadows is said to have been her mother’s favorite, with a heart as pure and loving as it is hard.

As the Choirmaster’s son, it fell on Requium to join the diplomatic choir and act as ambassador and information gatherer to the surrounding kingdoms in Valuria. The first decade of his service was one of his most trying, as it was during the ascension of the conquering exploder wizard Ruche Darksong. No one in the clan knows how he did it, for he refuses to discuss it at all, but somehow Requium convinced Darksong to leave the Aedinae Woods alone. What is known is that Requium came back from his decade with Darksong with a song with more acciaccato and affettuoso undertones, looking much more human than he had before, and with a voracious appetite for the companionship of females of other races. Still, he was a hero, for he had saved all the clans of Aedinae without a single arrow being loosed upon the marauding armies of lesser races. Rumours also spread of his part in Darksong’s Doom, though Requium has only given incredibly sarcastic replies regarding it. In his centuries of diplomatic and espionatic service he has proven himself manyfold times. Though his plans seem to me made up on the spot and rarely make any sense, he never fails at what he sets out to do. At this point in his career he even has doubts if he is even capable of dieing, though his sister Eulowgi’s mortality seems proof that their entire family line are not elven gods in mortal form.

Twenty years ago the Orc hordes spilled down from the mountains and began to trouble the Aedinae. Protecting the forest was the elves most important duty, and they chose to divert the horde instead of fighting them and potentially seeing large swathes of forest burned. The Diplomatic Choir was the first response. While lesser bards met with the orc leaders to charm them and fed them temping lies to get them to go after human and dwarven lands that would ultimately trap or break them, Requium and other senior agents set about infiltrating the orc clans polymorphed with illusion or polymorphed as orcs and diverting them from within either by feeding them misinformation or committing outright assassination designed to heighten infighting. Those orc bands that did enter the forest on the hunt for elf flesh simply disappeared, which unnerved the horde much more then finding their slaughtered members.

These tactics worked for a number of years till a rogue orc warleader named Rhromper Stommper defied the words of his superiors and decided to go after their “allies,” the wood elves, with a sizable splinter of the horde. Some say Rhromper had looted a gem of trueseeing and grew troubled by what he saw amongst the advisers to the horde leaders, other say he was simply overcome with lust at the sight of elf maidens and the taste of elf-flesh and could focus on nothing else.

A Warg was shot just outside of Aedinae Vilya. Braided to its back fur were the severed heads of three senior elven agents. The next day the village of Clan Flautando was razed, almost every member eaten and slain (in that order) or taken captive to suffer worse fates. The smoke could be seen throughout the whole forest, the trees and treants creaked with sorrow and rage. War had once again come to the Aedinae Woods.

The treants and their awakened tree companions could not be reined in despite the elves cries for caution and they marched out to scatter the horde. Though the devastation they wrote to the orcs was terrible, they ultimately lost the battle, and every great tree that raised a branch against the orcs was chopped low. The damage they caused brought the orc population down sizably, and at least gave the elves a fighting chance.

Requium could not leave his deep cover assignment for fear of the main horde losing focus on the most heavily defended kingdoms and running roughshod over the weaker targets, or worse, coming back to the Aedinae. Thus it became other champion’s time to crescendo.

Eulowgi in particular became Rhromper’s arch-nemesis for the first two months of the orc invasion. She came very close to killing him several times, even severing his foot, which he replaced with a rock filled dwarven plate boot. Songs were sung of her bravery in face of such a terrible foe, and she seemed to be on her way to matching her brother’s epic ballad. Rhromper Stommper would be her Ruche Darksong. Unfortunately her luck ran out one night when she attempted to sneak in and slit Rhromper’s throat while he slept. It turned out that Rhromper had come to understand her completely audacious style and had instead set a trap. His anger saw him nearly frothing at the mouth when his elite warriors pinned her down. It is said he literally disarmed her, ripped her arms off with his bare hands. Her fate from that point onwards was most unpleasant.

Rhromper further added disharmony to the elven choirs. Ogre packs took to hunting the few remaining Treants that had listened to the wisdom of the elves. Wargs savaged the prey animal population, causing mass starvation. Forest fires ran wild. He’d systematically send a piece of Eulowgi to Aedinae Vilya every full moon, just so they would know she was still alive. Her mother Tiraid’s song became so discordant that she lost cohesion after the fourth moon and faded back into the feywild. She was too heartbroken to accept any resurrection or reincarnation. No piece of Eulowgi arrived after the Seventh moon.

Soliloqui became despondent. She had lost both her mother and big sister, her greatest sources of inspiration, her mentors. The martial tones of vengeance dominated her song. Afraid he would soon lose his little one, his last female family member, Allocushion used his pull to ensure Soliloqui never saw the thickest fighting, despite her constant request to either rescue her sister or avenge her. Allocushion could not bear to lose another harmony from his life. Despite the elves best efforts, the rape of the Aedinae would continue for two more years.

Enter Ghore Gutz

Ghore Gutz first memories are being beaten with sticks by Rhromper Stommper as Rhromper screamed obscenities asking if the half-elf bastard liked his stupid trees now. As a stout half-orc lad of two, he was as tall as a six year old human child. As well he was twice as thick and over muscled compared the pure orc kids, never mind the other half-elf welps in the warcamp. Rhromper had given him the duty of his personal poop pot cleaner. Though he had to admit it really stunk when Rhromper made him clean the pot without using his hands. Ghore Gutz was unsure where he got his name, but heard a number of stories from his fellow orcs. His time in the orc camp was unhappy. The adults would occasionally stop to hit him or bite him. The other kids would tell him mean stories about his mommy or daddy elf, and what happened to them. Some said that he was Rhromper’s son, whom he pulled from belly of the elf maiden that took Rhromper’s foot and go into great detail on the terrible things done to her. Some others said that his mom was one of Rhromper’s wives, and that when she produced a half-elf son he beat her to death. Before she died she confessed that she rutted with a were-elf Orog that turned into a handsome elf at night. Yet others said he wasn’t half elf at all, that Rhromper laid with an talking she bear and he was the result.

Despite the teasing and beatings from others, Stommper was the worse of it. Even though some of the adults called him “Rhromper’s whelp” he definitely didn’t feel protected around him. Stommper would constantly pick him up by the head, shake him around and throw him to the side with a comment, “Not big enough yet.” When Ghore Gutz finally asked what he was not big enough for, Rhromper replied with a grin that Guzt’s skull wasn’t big enough to be his cod piece yet. Shaking in rage that night Ghore Gutz knew that Rhromper wasn’t joking. Rhromper hated him because he was a strong for a two year old, that he could take the constant beatings and be in shape to do his job the next day. Rhromper hated that he took being urinated upon constantly in silence. Rhromper hated Ghore Gutz’s strength, so Ghore Gutz decided to constantly try and get stronger and tougher. Despite this ,the clanking of Stommper’s metal foot infested Ghore Gutz’s dreams.

Ghore Gutz true life started the day he say a giant blood splattered elf come calmly walking out of the woods playing a jauntly little tune on his lyre. This elf was a big as an ogre was tall, taller even. Small wounds and orc arrows stuck out of his body in places, but he paid them no mind and he showed absolutely no fear of the nearly two thousand orcs that made up the camp. A few dozen orcs charged the elf, but ended up cutting each other up in their frenzy before they even reached him. Whispers spread that the elf god of the forest had finally come to doom them all. All the other orcs decided to give the giant singing elf a wide berth until they saw what Rhromper Stommper would do. As Rhromper Stommper roared out of his treant wood hut in response he stopped dead when he came into view of the elf. His eyes seemed to narrow in recognition.

They talked back in forth in a weird singy language that Ghore Gutz would later know to be elven for a boring amount of time. During this time the blood splattered elf shrunk back down to normal size and went idelly plucking out the arrows stuck in his torso. This went on till finally Rhromper Stommper burst out laughing in orcish, “Only an orc can do that, and who in my hoard is going to challenge me? No one, that’s who!”

The elf just smiled, played idly on his lyre as he looked over the assembled orcs. Stommper tusks grated with rage as the elf beamed a quick smile to Stommper’s wives. Then his eyes focused on Ghore Gutz for a split second. A weird song ignited into being and started to play inside Ghore Gutz’ thinky voice. In that moment Ghore Gutz saw that the elves eyes were the same as the ones he saw in his own reflection, the elf’s half smile filled him with more joy than he had ever felt in his young life, he felt as if he finally found someone with whom he truly belonged. Then the elf's eyes drifted on and the moment was lost.

The elf’s gaze finally settled on Champer, Rhromper’s second in command and best friend. The elf spoke in orcish “You there, Champer, you’d rather be charge, wouldn’t cha?”

Champer looked confused and scratched his head, despite nearly two decades of loyal service Champer smiled and replied, “Ya know wha? Yeah, i kinna do!” And so with a roar Rhromper and Champer engaged in mortal combat while the elf played battle music. Even though Champer frequently played “punt the runt” with Ghore Gutz, Ghore Gutz coudn’t help but cheer when one of Champers axes bit deep into Rhromper’s bicept. Both the elf and Rhromper’s gaze fell on Ghore Gutz as he let out his little kid cheer. Through Champer fought hard, and got in some good blows in, the challenge ultimately ended with Rhromper Stommper crushing his long time friend’s skull beneath his metal foot.

As Rhromper’s rage settled, blood and sweat steaming off his skin, the elf, still playing music looked at biggest ork in the tribe, a half ogre named Cackles, and said, “He’s weak, wounded and spent, now would be the perfect time to take leadership. You know you deserve it!” Cackles, slowly seemed to bounce the thought around in his head. after waiting a Minute, Rhromper, in frustration, impaled Cackles with a spear. Looking down at his pierced belly, Cackles, got up and issued the challenge. He lasted half the time Champer did. Cackles died mewing for mercy as Rhromper Stommper beat him to death with Cackles own severed arm.

The third Orc the elf tempted to take leadership, an Orog name Magoo, soundly rejected the proposal. With this Rhromper Stommper laughed in triumph, “ Well it look like your life is forfeit there Requium, you got no more champions to trick with your head magic. Now I’s gonna do to you the same thin’ I did ta ya sista!”

Ghore Gutz’s heart sank. He didn’t know why but he needed the elf to live, He liked the elf, even though he was surrounded by uncountable throngs of tough brutal orcs, even though Rhromper was so big and scary, the elf showed no fear. Everyone feared Rhromper, elves, orcs, wargs, trolls, ogres, talking trees, everyone, Everyone that is but this one crazy blood covered elf. He couldn't let this Requium guy suffer all the nasty things that they said they did to his maybe mom. He had to do something.

Just as Rhromper Stommper opened his mouth to issue the command for the horde to descend on the elf a tiny half-orc voice screamed, “No, you will not hurt the smiley elf guy! He needs a choperion! I can be he’s fighty guy!” A round of laughter erupted from the assembled horde as someone punted Ghore Gutz into the combat pit. He landed with his face in the dirt. The elf came over and picked him up.

Requium looked him over and said, “Well that was incredibly brave and stupid of you little guy. How old are you, Four?”

Ghore Gutz puffed out his chest, “I’m two!”

“Well you're certainly big for your age, but i’m pretty sure that even injured your leader there is gonna have stomping party on your little skull.”

Wiping some mud out of his mouth Ghore Gutz spat out, “Naa, he said he wanna to use my skull as his cod piece, so he’s gonna kick my tummy till my insides come out. He said that was da reason why he called me Ghore Gutz, well at least one of ‘dem.”

Requium patted him on the head, “Well you certainly have stones, lets see what we can do to make sure you make his skull into a cod piece, and not the other way around. Do you like the sound of that little one?”

“Yes Daddy, I like dat very much.”

The elf looked genuinely shocked for a second, “Ahh... i’m not your.. never mind. Here take this potion, and lets see, this potion, and this one!” Slowly Requium emptied his pack and took off a number of potions, rings, a cape and bits of jewelry and gave them to Ghore Gutz. Finally he took off his armour and weapon and passed him to the two year old half orc.

“Ah daddy, these are too big for me.”

“I’m not your.. whatever… No worries, big guy.” With that he strummed a note on his Lyre sang a few notes and suddenly Ghore Gutz grew to the size of a full grown orc, though he retained his childish proportions. “See, not so little anymore. Put on my armour and sword and i’m sure you will be able to cut everliving ahhh…right.. language around kids... poop out of him.”

Rhromper Stommper looked on with amusement. “I appreciate da’ effort of you's making yourself even more vulnerable for my warriors, elf. You can dress up a poop pot cleaner all you want, it still doesn’t stop him from being nice tender veal.”

Requium looked up to the now 6 foot tall Ghore Gutz, “You're my final improvvisando, and my final improvvisandos always work. Your half-elf kid, and elves always win in the end. I know you can do it, so go, go get ‘um boy! Do it, do it for… daddy!”

The song in his thinky space reached a crescendo and Ghore Gutz gulped down the assembled potions. The world seemed to stop, freeze in time, then turn red and blur.

When the red blurring faded from his vision he was holding Rhromper Stommper’s severed head by the hair, the several dangling vertebrate suggested he ripped it off by hand and there was a misshapen large smear of meat at his feet that seemed to suggest the rest of Stommper’s body. He was coated head to foot in dripping gore. The orc horde looked on in shocked silence.

Requium was literally rolling on the ground laughing. “Well done boy, well done. I’ll never forget the sight of a giant orc toddler hopped up on thirteen different enhancement potions going to town on his leader. Look, I think you mentally scarred that old orc over there for life. Look at his face! Look at all of your faces! Ha ha, precious.” Wiping away his tears of joy, “All right you simpletons, time to go bother someone else, your new toddler overlord demands you leave these woods and never return… isn’t that right… ahhh…what was your name... Gore Guts?”

Ghore Gutz looked around confused, “Err.. yeah.. I guess.”

“Head south, find the orc warlord named Grackle Tooth and join with him. He’ll make sure you get lots of good shiny bits and good proper fights against the dwarves,” Requium informed them. “Anyone left after the sun goes down has to fight Ghore Gutz one on one, now GO!”

With that the horde broke.

As Requium approached Ghore Gutz in the challenge pit, chaos engulfing the camp all around, the big little half-orc spoke, “So... am I like chief of all the orcs now daddy?”

“Well technically yes, but don’t be an idiot, that enlarge spell will wear off the second I stop concentrating on it, then you’d just be a kid with a lot of magic loot that every warrior in the horde will have a reason to horribly murder.. and possibly mate with. So no, your not a two year old with an army of vicious blood thirsty monsters, sorry. Speaking of my magic loot, give me that stuff back. I’ll be cleaning orc bits out of those crevices for days, Yuck! You ever try and clean orc bits out of… what am I saying, of course not. Let’s just say its not pleasant.”

“So where do I go now daddy, can I come with you?”

“Yeah sure, why not? I can tell by your eyes and the echo of your song you're one of ours. Let’s get you into the forest proper before my enlarge spell wears off and we have a significantly larger problem on our hands. Oh and bring that head. My little sister and father would love to pay their respects to him. I think a cod piece is a suitable fate for him after what that slimebag did to your mom.” A look of haunted sadness briefly crossed over Requium’s face, quickly to be replaced with his signature smirk.

And so the blood splattered and wounded elf and his gore drenched giant half-orc “son” passed unconcerned though the anarchy of the orc warcamp. Arms on each others shoulders, they whistled merrily in harmony as the boy swung Rhromper Stommper’s severed head playfully at his side.

This was the happiest day in Ghore Gutz’s entire life.

Appearance and Family Life

Though Requium’s heart was in the right place, he was not tremendously responsible in his personal life. A short lived semi-feral creature could not interact with wood elf society as a peer. Allocushion still despises the inclusion of a “half feral dangerous monstrosity” into his family, though Ghore Gutz thinks that’s grandpa’s pet name for him. Soliloqui was initially dismayed by the little creature, he was a constant reminder of her sister’s fate, but his good heart and upbeat attitude grew on her over the years, though she still has him call her “mistress” or “boss.” Especially now that she has come to like him, accepting him as a nephew instead of a pet is difficult since he will just die of old age in a few short decades.

Since elven society is not set up educate a child, and Requium’s attempts at it were pretty much relegated to telling stories of his old adventures at bedtime, the forest spirits took up most of it. Dryads had fun exploring their matronly side. They made sure he bathed, pointing out how beasts mark their territory and assert dominance and taught him how to make clothing from the natural surroundings. The few remaining Treants taught him the way of battle with “tactics” such as the importance of finding the right branch to pulp something with, charging at the enemy hordes while raging as hard as possible, etc.

With that upbringing in mind, it is no surprise he improvises and self makes most of his clothes from scraps, rags and furs, with the exception of his skull cod piece. His hair is long and dreaded, his heritage left him without much body or facial hair, but that is starting to change as he merges more with his totem spirit. His skin tone is grey/green and changes with exposure to sunlight. He tans to the colour of plant life, so will look fairly greyish in the winter months. His build is tall and wide, with well defined musculature

Follow-Up Info by Djake
Wood elves in general (and Ghore Gutz specifically) enjoy taking trophies from important incidents. At this point in their story, you can see the remains of three dire wolves, a bear, an umber-hulk, a dragon and a minotaur - in addition to Rhromper Stommper's skull, mentioned in the above story. Ghore Gutz' favoured weapon - a large tree stump - has been plated in silver across it top, in order to do battle with a horde of werewolves. Siloquy's weapon, an elvish longbow, is the only weapon she's wielded since she began her adventuring career - quite a statement, given the long life-spans of elves. Doubtless, there will be more images of these two in the future, as their trophy collection grows.

Created in GIMP, using a Wacom Intuos Pro Large.
Creation Time: 10 hours

Description
In the same adventuring party as Torinn : this duo comes from my Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition campaign. What follows is their back-story, as written by Ghore Gutz' player. As a brief foreword: elves in this setting are not born, as animals are; they are sung into being as a consequence of the love (or, occasionally, lust) of their parents. Alas, Ghore Gutz did not have such fortunate beginnings...

What came before

Ghore Guts’ song cannot be sung without first understanding his heritage.

Two clan eldars of the Bellicoso Wood Elf Clan in the Aedinae Woods, The Choirmaster (Arch-Bard loremaster) Allocushion and his duet partner Tiraid of the Forest Floor Rangers have sung three children into existence. They are Requium, the eldest, the unfortunate Eulowgi, and their newest overture, Soliloqui. The clan in general is seen as a bit of a phenom. It is said that one of their ancestors was a champion of the elf queen Valuria during the war with her sister, Lloth. The epics sing that Lloth cursed the champion’s descendants to be without wisdom when they are intelligent, or be daft if they are wise. Regardless the family seems to produce peerless individuals when it comes to raw skill and they seem to thrive despite their mental eccentricities. A Bard like his father, Requium is currently 521 years old and one of the most handsome elves in the Aedinae, his hair the colour of the forest soil and a smile or smirk that glints like reflecting water. The experienced ranger Eulowgi would be 289 if she were still being sung, with skin the colour of the moon and hair like the night sky. Young Soliloqui, who moves like a flowing forest brook and has hair that matches the seasonal colour of her home forrest meadows is said to have been her mother’s favorite, with a heart as pure and loving as it is hard.

As the Choirmaster’s son, it fell on Requium to join the diplomatic choir and act as ambassador and information gatherer to the surrounding kingdoms in Valuria. The first decade of his service was one of his most trying, as it was during the ascension of the conquering exploder wizard Ruche Darksong. No one in the clan knows how he did it, for he refuses to discuss it at all, but somehow Requium convinced Darksong to leave the Aedinae Woods alone. What is known is that Requium came back from his decade with Darksong with a song with more acciaccato and affettuoso undertones, looking much more human than he had before, and with a voracious appetite for the companionship of females of other races. Still, he was a hero, for he had saved all the clans of Aedinae without a single arrow being loosed upon the marauding armies of lesser races. Rumours also spread of his part in Darksong’s Doom, though Requium has only given incredibly sarcastic replies regarding it. In his centuries of diplomatic and espionatic service he has proven himself manyfold times. Though his plans seem to me made up on the spot and rarely make any sense, he never fails at what he sets out to do. At this point in his career he even has doubts if he is even capable of dieing, though his sister Eulowgi’s mortality seems proof that their entire family line are not elven gods in mortal form.

Twenty years ago the Orc hordes spilled down from the mountains and began to trouble the Aedinae. Protecting the forest was the elves most important duty, and they chose to divert the horde instead of fighting them and potentially seeing large swathes of forest burned. The Diplomatic Choir was the first response. While lesser bards met with the orc leaders to charm them and fed them temping lies to get them to go after human and dwarven lands that would ultimately trap or break them, Requium and other senior agents set about infiltrating the orc clans polymorphed with illusion or polymorphed as orcs and diverting them from within either by feeding them misinformation or committing outright assassination designed to heighten infighting. Those orc bands that did enter the forest on the hunt for elf flesh simply disappeared, which unnerved the horde much more then finding their slaughtered members.

These tactics worked for a number of years till a rogue orc warleader named Rhromper Stommper defied the words of his superiors and decided to go after their “allies,” the wood elves, with a sizable splinter of the horde. Some say Rhromper had looted a gem of trueseeing and grew troubled by what he saw amongst the advisers to the horde leaders, other say he was simply overcome with lust at the sight of elf maidens and the taste of elf-flesh and could focus on nothing else.

A Warg was shot just outside of Aedinae Vilya. Braided to its back fur were the severed heads of three senior elven agents. The next day the village of Clan Flautando was razed, almost every member eaten and slain (in that order) or taken captive to suffer worse fates. The smoke could be seen throughout the whole forest, the trees and treants creaked with sorrow and rage. War had once again come to the Aedinae Woods.

The treants and their awakened tree companions could not be reined in despite the elves cries for caution and they marched out to scatter the horde. Though the devastation they wrote to the orcs was terrible, they ultimately lost the battle, and every great tree that raised a branch against the orcs was chopped low. The damage they caused brought the orc population down sizably, and at least gave the elves a fighting chance.

Requium could not leave his deep cover assignment for fear of the main horde losing focus on the most heavily defended kingdoms and running roughshod over the weaker targets, or worse, coming back to the Aedinae. Thus it became other champion’s time to crescendo.

Eulowgi in particular became Rhromper’s arch-nemesis for the first two months of the orc invasion. She came very close to killing him several times, even severing his foot, which he replaced with a rock filled dwarven plate boot. Songs were sung of her bravery in face of such a terrible foe, and she seemed to be on her way to matching her brother’s epic ballad. Rhromper Stommper would be her Ruche Darksong. Unfortunately her luck ran out one night when she attempted to sneak in and slit Rhromper’s throat while he slept. It turned out that Rhromper had come to understand her completely audacious style and had instead set a trap. His anger saw him nearly frothing at the mouth when his elite warriors pinned her down. It is said he literally disarmed her, ripped her arms off with his bare hands. Her fate from that point onwards was most unpleasant.

Rhromper further added disharmony to the elven choirs. Ogre packs took to hunting the few remaining Treants that had listened to the wisdom of the elves. Wargs savaged the prey animal population, causing mass starvation. Forest fires ran wild. He’d systematically send a piece of Eulowgi to Aedinae Vilya every full moon, just so they would know she was still alive. Her mother Tiraid’s song became so discordant that she lost cohesion after the fourth moon and faded back into the feywild. She was too heartbroken to accept any resurrection or reincarnation. No piece of Eulowgi arrived after the Seventh moon.

Soliloqui became despondent. She had lost both her mother and big sister, her greatest sources of inspiration, her mentors. The martial tones of vengeance dominated her song. Afraid he would soon lose his little one, his last female family member, Allocushion used his pull to ensure Soliloqui never saw the thickest fighting, despite her constant request to either rescue her sister or avenge her. Allocushion could not bear to lose another harmony from his life. Despite the elves best efforts, the rape of the Aedinae would continue for two more years.

Enter Ghore Gutz

Ghore Gutz first memories are being beaten with sticks by Rhromper Stommper as Rhromper screamed obscenities asking if the half-elf bastard liked his stupid trees now. As a stout half-orc lad of two, he was as tall as a six year old human child. As well he was twice as thick and over muscled compared the pure orc kids, never mind the other half-elf welps in the warcamp. Rhromper had given him the duty of his personal poop pot cleaner. Though he had to admit it really stunk when Rhromper made him clean the pot without using his hands. Ghore Gutz was unsure where he got his name, but heard a number of stories from his fellow orcs. His time in the orc camp was unhappy. The adults would occasionally stop to hit him or bite him. The other kids would tell him mean stories about his mommy or daddy elf, and what happened to them. Some said that he was Rhromper’s son, whom he pulled from belly of the elf maiden that took Rhromper’s foot and go into great detail on the terrible things done to her. Some others said that his mom was one of Rhromper’s wives, and that when she produced a half-elf son he beat her to death. Before she died she confessed that she rutted with a were-elf Orog that turned into a handsome elf at night. Yet others said he wasn’t half elf at all, that Rhromper laid with an talking she bear and he was the result.

Despite the teasing and beatings from others, Stommper was the worse of it. Even though some of the adults called him “Rhromper’s whelp” he definitely didn’t feel protected around him. Stommper would constantly pick him up by the head, shake him around and throw him to the side with a comment, “Not big enough yet.” When Ghore Gutz finally asked what he was not big enough for, Rhromper replied with a grin that Guzt’s skull wasn’t big enough to be his cod piece yet. Shaking in rage that night Ghore Gutz knew that Rhromper wasn’t joking. Rhromper hated him because he was a strong for a two year old, that he could take the constant beatings and be in shape to do his job the next day. Rhromper hated that he took being urinated upon constantly in silence. Rhromper hated Ghore Gutz’s strength, so Ghore Gutz decided to constantly try and get stronger and tougher. Despite this ,the clanking of Stommper’s metal foot infested Ghore Gutz’s dreams.

Ghore Gutz true life started the day he say a giant blood splattered elf come calmly walking out of the woods playing a jauntly little tune on his lyre. This elf was a big as an ogre was tall, taller even. Small wounds and orc arrows stuck out of his body in places, but he paid them no mind and he showed absolutely no fear of the nearly two thousand orcs that made up the camp. A few dozen orcs charged the elf, but ended up cutting each other up in their frenzy before they even reached him. Whispers spread that the elf god of the forest had finally come to doom them all. All the other orcs decided to give the giant singing elf a wide berth until they saw what Rhromper Stommper would do. As Rhromper Stommper roared out of his treant wood hut in response he stopped dead when he came into view of the elf. His eyes seemed to narrow in recognition.

They talked back in forth in a weird singy language that Ghore Gutz would later know to be elven for a boring amount of time. During this time the blood splattered elf shrunk back down to normal size and went idelly plucking out the arrows stuck in his torso. This went on till finally Rhromper Stommper burst out laughing in orcish, “Only an orc can do that, and who in my hoard is going to challenge me? No one, that’s who!”

The elf just smiled, played idly on his lyre as he looked over the assembled orcs. Stommper tusks grated with rage as the elf beamed a quick smile to Stommper’s wives. Then his eyes focused on Ghore Gutz for a split second. A weird song ignited into being and started to play inside Ghore Gutz’ thinky voice. In that moment Ghore Gutz saw that the elves eyes were the same as the ones he saw in his own reflection, the elf’s half smile filled him with more joy than he had ever felt in his young life, he felt as if he finally found someone with whom he truly belonged. Then the elf's eyes drifted on and the moment was lost.

The elf’s gaze finally settled on Champer, Rhromper’s second in command and best friend. The elf spoke in orcish “You there, Champer, you’d rather be charge, wouldn’t cha?”

Champer looked confused and scratched his head, despite nearly two decades of loyal service Champer smiled and replied, “Ya know wha? Yeah, i kinna do!” And so with a roar Rhromper and Champer engaged in mortal combat while the elf played battle music. Even though Champer frequently played “punt the runt” with Ghore Gutz, Ghore Gutz coudn’t help but cheer when one of Champers axes bit deep into Rhromper’s bicept. Both the elf and Rhromper’s gaze fell on Ghore Gutz as he let out his little kid cheer. Through Champer fought hard, and got in some good blows in, the challenge ultimately ended with Rhromper Stommper crushing his long time friend’s skull beneath his metal foot.

As Rhromper’s rage settled, blood and sweat steaming off his skin, the elf, still playing music looked at biggest ork in the tribe, a half ogre named Cackles, and said, “He’s weak, wounded and spent, now would be the perfect time to take leadership. You know you deserve it!” Cackles, slowly seemed to bounce the thought around in his head. after waiting a Minute, Rhromper, in frustration, impaled Cackles with a spear. Looking down at his pierced belly, Cackles, got up and issued the challenge. He lasted half the time Champer did. Cackles died mewing for mercy as Rhromper Stommper beat him to death with Cackles own severed arm.

The third Orc the elf tempted to take leadership, an Orog name Magoo, soundly rejected the proposal. With this Rhromper Stommper laughed in triumph, “ Well it look like your life is forfeit there Requium, you got no more champions to trick with your head magic. Now I’s gonna do to you the same thin’ I did ta ya sista!”

Ghore Gutz’s heart sank. He didn’t know why but he needed the elf to live, He liked the elf, even though he was surrounded by uncountable throngs of tough brutal orcs, even though Rhromper was so big and scary, the elf showed no fear. Everyone feared Rhromper, elves, orcs, wargs, trolls, ogres, talking trees, everyone, Everyone that is but this one crazy blood covered elf. He couldn't let this Requium guy suffer all the nasty things that they said they did to his maybe mom. He had to do something.

Just as Rhromper Stommper opened his mouth to issue the command for the horde to descend on the elf a tiny half-orc voice screamed, “No, you will not hurt the smiley elf guy! He needs a choperion! I can be he’s fighty guy!” A round of laughter erupted from the assembled horde as someone punted Ghore Gutz into the combat pit. He landed with his face in the dirt. The elf came over and picked him up.

Requium looked him over and said, “Well that was incredibly brave and stupid of you little guy. How old are you, Four?”

Ghore Gutz puffed out his chest, “I’m two!”

“Well you're certainly big for your age, but i’m pretty sure that even injured your leader there is gonna have stomping party on your little skull.”

Wiping some mud out of his mouth Ghore Gutz spat out, “Naa, he said he wanna to use my skull as his cod piece, so he’s gonna kick my tummy till my insides come out. He said that was da reason why he called me Ghore Gutz, well at least one of ‘dem.”

Requium patted him on the head, “Well you certainly have stones, lets see what we can do to make sure you make his skull into a cod piece, and not the other way around. Do you like the sound of that little one?”

“Yes Daddy, I like dat very much.”

The elf looked genuinely shocked for a second, “Ahh... i’m not your.. never mind. Here take this potion, and lets see, this potion, and this one!” Slowly Requium emptied his pack and took off a number of potions, rings, a cape and bits of jewelry and gave them to Ghore Gutz. Finally he took off his armour and weapon and passed him to the two year old half orc.

“Ah daddy, these are too big for me.”

“I’m not your.. whatever… No worries, big guy.” With that he strummed a note on his Lyre sang a few notes and suddenly Ghore Gutz grew to the size of a full grown orc, though he retained his childish proportions. “See, not so little anymore. Put on my armour and sword and i’m sure you will be able to cut everliving ahhh…right.. language around kids... poop out of him.”

Rhromper Stommper looked on with amusement. “I appreciate da’ effort of you's making yourself even more vulnerable for my warriors, elf. You can dress up a poop pot cleaner all you want, it still doesn’t stop him from being nice tender veal.”

Requium looked up to the now 6 foot tall Ghore Gutz, “You're my final improvvisando, and my final improvvisandos always work. Your half-elf kid, and elves always win in the end. I know you can do it, so go, go get ‘um boy! Do it, do it for… daddy!”

The song in his thinky space reached a crescendo and Ghore Gutz gulped down the assembled potions. The world seemed to stop, freeze in time, then turn red and blur.

When the red blurring faded from his vision he was holding Rhromper Stommper’s severed head by the hair, the several dangling vertebrate suggested he ripped it off by hand and there was a misshapen large smear of meat at his feet that seemed to suggest the rest of Stommper’s body. He was coated head to foot in dripping gore. The orc horde looked on in shocked silence.

Requium was literally rolling on the ground laughing. “Well done boy, well done. I’ll never forget the sight of a giant orc toddler hopped up on thirteen different enhancement potions going to town on his leader. Look, I think you mentally scarred that old orc over there for life. Look at his face! Look at all of your faces! Ha ha, precious.” Wiping away his tears of joy, “All right you simpletons, time to go bother someone else, your new toddler overlord demands you leave these woods and never return… isn’t that right… ahhh…what was your name... Gore Guts?”

Ghore Gutz looked around confused, “Err.. yeah.. I guess.”

“Head south, find the orc warlord named Grackle Tooth and join with him. He’ll make sure you get lots of good shiny bits and good proper fights against the dwarves,” Requium informed them. “Anyone left after the sun goes down has to fight Ghore Gutz one on one, now GO!”

With that the horde broke.

As Requium approached Ghore Gutz in the challenge pit, chaos engulfing the camp all around, the big little half-orc spoke, “So... am I like chief of all the orcs now daddy?”

“Well technically yes, but don’t be an idiot, that enlarge spell will wear off the second I stop concentrating on it, then you’d just be a kid with a lot of magic loot that every warrior in the horde will have a reason to horribly murder.. and possibly mate with. So no, your not a two year old with an army of vicious blood thirsty monsters, sorry. Speaking of my magic loot, give me that stuff back. I’ll be cleaning orc bits out of those crevices for days, Yuck! You ever try and clean orc bits out of… what am I saying, of course not. Let’s just say its not pleasant.”

“So where do I go now daddy, can I come with you?”

“Yeah sure, why not? I can tell by your eyes and the echo of your song you're one of ours. Let’s get you into the forest proper before my enlarge spell wears off and we have a significantly larger problem on our hands. Oh and bring that head. My little sister and father would love to pay their respects to him. I think a cod piece is a suitable fate for him after what that slimebag did to your mom.” A look of haunted sadness briefly crossed over Requium’s face, quickly to be replaced with his signature smirk.

And so the blood splattered and wounded elf and his gore drenched giant half-orc “son” passed unconcerned though the anarchy of the orc warcamp. Arms on each others shoulders, they whistled merrily in harmony as the boy swung Rhromper Stommper’s severed head playfully at his side.

This was the happiest day in Ghore Gutz’s entire life.

Appearance and Family Life

Though Requium’s heart was in the right place, he was not tremendously responsible in his personal life. A short lived semi-feral creature could not interact with wood elf society as a peer. Allocushion still despises the inclusion of a “half feral dangerous monstrosity” into his family, though Ghore Gutz thinks that’s grandpa’s pet name for him. Soliloqui was initially dismayed by the little creature, he was a constant reminder of her sister’s fate, but his good heart and upbeat attitude grew on her over the years, though she still has him call her “mistress” or “boss.” Especially now that she has come to like him, accepting him as a nephew instead of a pet is difficult since he will just die of old age in a few short decades.

Since elven society is not set up educate a child, and Requium’s attempts at it were pretty much relegated to telling stories of his old adventures at bedtime, the forest spirits took up most of it. Dryads had fun exploring their matronly side. They made sure he bathed, pointing out how beasts mark their territory and assert dominance and taught him how to make clothing from the natural surroundings. The few remaining Treants taught him the way of battle with “tactics” such as the importance of finding the right branch to pulp something with, charging at the enemy hordes while raging as hard as possible, etc.

With that upbringing in mind, it is no surprise he improvises and self makes most of his clothes from scraps, rags and furs, with the exception of his skull cod piece. His hair is long and dreaded, his heritage left him without much body or facial hair, but that is starting to change as he merges more with his totem spirit. His skin tone is grey/green and changes with exposure to sunlight. He tans to the colour of plant life, so will look fairly greyish in the winter months. His build is tall and wide, with well defined musculature

Follow-Up Info by Djake
Wood elves in general (and Ghore Gutz specifically) enjoy taking trophies from important incidents. At this point in their story, you can see the remains of three dire wolves, a bear, an umber-hulk, a dragon and a minotaur - in addition to Rhromper Stommper's skull, mentioned in the above story. Ghore Gutz' favoured weapon - a large tree stump - has been plated in silver across it top, in order to do battle with a horde of werewolves. Siloquy's weapon, an elvish longbow, is the only weapon she's wielded since she began her adventuring career - quite a statement, given the long life-spans of elves. Doubtless, there will be more images of these two in the future, as their trophy collection grows.

Created in GIMP, using a Wacom Intuos Pro Large.
Creation Time: 10 hours