Role

Chapter 19

Pleebert, born into the classic Orc family, was beaten severely every day.
The beating made her tough, her family said. Her father before her had been
beating, his father had been beaten, and so had his father (which was also
his brother). Each member of the family had been beaten hard so that when
confronted with pain it would only seem like a tickle. She was flogged,
whipped, punched, kicked, and hit by more blunt objects than a Gnome could
name.

Her skin, rough from the years of pain, had almost become fond of the
beatings. Sometimes, when she was alone in her bleak cavern, she would find a
makeshift blade and start to cut herself. She didn't cut herself to cry or to
whine, she cut herself to find her pleasure. She found that when she wasn't
bleeding or when she didn't have an open woundShe just didn't feel right.
The blade against her skin made her feel as comfortable as if she was back in
her mother's smelly womb. Other than cutting herself, she found solace in
slamming her head against the rock walls of the cave. The comforting crack of
her skull always made her feel better if she was ever frustrated. Without
even being in combat, she would place herself in a berserker's rage just to
feel the heavy Orc-blood pump through her body.

Having reached a sufficient age to actually serve the tribe, she had begun to
take part in the raids on travelers. After the group of Orcs had taken down a
group of travelers and backed away from the corpses to see what goodies they
had caught, Pleebert would always be found sitting on the corpse bashing the
skull in repeatedly. She loved the crunch of bones, the smeared blood.All of
it. She preferred beating animals and corpses to visiting the ecstasy filled
orgy room (Which was almost a crime for an Orc to think).

She continued to hurt herself and continued to raid for quite a few years
until a certain event ended her raucous and care-free lifestyle.