Zhangorn the Nomad of the Sands

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Role

Chapter 3

Zhangorn is a wild savage, smart enough to know a smattering of Common, but
not much more than that. He is impatient, impulsive, and wild. He has a deep
spiritual connection to Nature and hears the Ancients speaking in his dreams.
He is going to join the Outlanders to defend Thar-Eris, and to spread the
Dream.

He misses his people keenly, but knows that he would never have been
satisfied staying peacefully (cowardly?) in their mountains for the rest of
his life. He does miss his sweetheart, a big, beautiful pale-white giantess
named Lingdu, with eyes as blue as the deepest ice and a chest like the
softest twin drifts of fresh-fallen snow. He feels out of place among the
walkers, but enjoys the company of tiny arials that can fly as he does, and
appreciates gnomes for the wisdom of his old friend, Tellis. All others are
going to have to prove themselves strong and true, or be ignored, or perhaps
tested by Zhangorn's axe.

He is curious about the world, but quick to discard and dismiss many of the
foolish vanities and obscenities of civilized Thera. He reveres priests, as
most cloud giants do, for their connection to the divine, and fights to hide
his racial fear of divine wrath. In short, any that can prove themselves
strong and wise will quickly earn his respect. Those that cannot will be
dealt with. Those that poison and destroy and torment Thar-Eris will meet
unmatched fury.

Role

Chapter 2

Zhangorn had always been the most impulsive and violent of Chieftain Gurd's
sons, always eager to prove himself as strong, wise and competent as his
elder brothers. And he was most of the time, often even moreso. He was a keen
tracker and an avid hunter, he was built strong and powerfully, fit and
hearty. He was intelligent and wise (as giants go), but always ready to
settle confrontations and conflicts with his strong spear-arm, instead of the
peaceful negotiations necessary in a small mountain tribe. He had always had
trouble fitting into his people's peace-loving society. He liked to be
challenged, and to challenge others. He liked being strong, although using
his strength against anything but caribou and yetis was often frowned upon.

The gnomish druid, Tellis, from the Holy Grove convinced him that it's time
to war against the ones destroying Mother Thera. The Ancients are rising and
calling. Zhangorn knew it was true. He had seen the visions, had heard their
voices calling to him on his spirit-walks. Now he knew it was time for him,
even if the rest of the tribe was afraid. Leaving his family, his people and
his mountain was the most difficult challenge the young giant had ever faced.

But he conquered it. He conquered the fear, and flew south. It was time.

Role

Chapter 1

"Zhangorn say Seantryn bad. No understand why Tellis-gnome bring him
through," the naked giant rumbled to the gnome cradled in the crook of his
left arm as the two flew southward over the fields of Aturi.

"Well, Zhangorn, you nor any other members of your tribe have seen
'civilization' for generations, no? I thought it might behoove you to witness
how the world is changing about us." Tellis was a druid rising steadily in
the hierophantic order: he'd been troubled recently, by the encroachment of
the Empire, of the Tribunal and their cities. The Grand Hierophant had
blessed his mission to reach out to the barbarian tribes of the north, to the
reclusive cloud giants that had remained isolated from the turbulence and
travails of men on their snowy tundras and mountains.

"Zhangorn see is bad. Zhangorn smell the bad. Zhangorn feel the hot. Zhangorn
want go back north now." The giant's deep voice twisting in a childish whine
gave the gnome a short snicker.

"We will fly North soon. I just need you to see this last..." How to put it?
The clouds were reclusive for a reason. They cared not for the affairs of the
small-kin. Their word for it roughly translated into "tiny hearts, always
bleeding with greed and desire". Tellis had attempted to reason with them.
Their priests knew the Ancients were stirring, they heard the whispers as
loudly, they dreamed as vividly as any native peoples. They thought their
cold mountains would keep them safe, though. Tellis was unable to convince
the recalcitrant chieftain to join in outright war, but got him to agree to
send his youngest son with the small druid, to see if the dark words the
gnome spoke were at all true, hopefully to assuage the misgivings in his
heart that the gnome was right about what the Ancients were saying.

They'd flown across the world. Over Udgaard. Over Galadon. Over the ruins of
Ostalagiah. Over Hamsah. Through Seantryn, and now to Tellis' goal. They
nearly skimmed the tall, brown grass atop the last hill south of Aturi, and
the field of stumps broke, stark and ruined, before them. The young giant
blinked twice, then his steely eyes went wide as he slowed to a complete
stop, the two hovering in the smoky air.

He saw the lumberjacks, the gleaming metal-armored soldiers, the minotaurs,
all with their sharp axes. And the stumps, crawling southward to devour the
rest of the once-mighty Hardan Wood. Tellis could feel the giant's heart
pounding, could feel his muscles tense rock-hard, feel the sudden cold sweat
slickening the pale flesh.

"Tellis-gnome speak true. Zhangorn... not believe. Tellis-gnome true...". The
giant broke off, at a loss.

"I know. I know. This is why we cannot stand by peacefully. No longer. We
have to fight, however we may." Tellis patted the giant's trembling bicep
with his tiny, calloused hand. He wondered quickly what the youth's reaction
would be when he brought him by the Scion's Chasm...

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