Mentality
Personal history
Pip was born on the Wild Coast in the land called the Flanaess, on the world called Oerth. Sages know this far off place as the World of Greyhawk.
Pip’s mother, barely out of childhood herself, was victim of a violent rape by the leader of an orc raiding party during an attack on the village of Idryll. The orc leader, Gûrakh, raped Pip's mother and ordered the village burned. The entire village was destroyed. In time, the villagers rebuilt it but, through the years, humanoids continued to raid the village. Luckily, the subsequent raids never approached the ferocity of the first, but they were violent, nonetheless.
This was the world into which Pip was born. His mother, unable to bring herself to terminate the pregnancy, was also not ready to raise the living memory of her rape. About three weeks after Pip was born, his mother left him at a guard post inside the stockade as the guard made his rounds outside. She never looked back, and never again entered into his life.
When the guard returned from his rounds moments later, he was startled to find the sleeping infant. He summoned another guard (who was not yet on duty) and they debated what to do. Idryll had no orphanage and the soldiers did not know how to raise the child. Luckily, the militia included several women, most of whom cooked and cleaned for the soldiers, and they were delighted to take the child into their care. They named him Garthyk, which means “fortunate discovery” in the ancient Baklunish dialect. When he was very young, his favorite toys were a pair of gaming dice the soldiers let him play with when they weren’t gambling. (Ironically, this changed little as he grew to adulthood.) Young Garthyk would always leave the dice with one dot showing, so the men nicknamed him Pip and the name stuck.
Pip grew up raised by his surrogate family. His three surrogate mothers, Adiera, Tess, and Ophelia were doting but strict. He did many chores and helped take care of the soldiers. Adiera taught him his letters and gave him a rather solid education. In his spare time, he would pour over books and maps lying around the stockade compound.
In 1162 C.Y., when pip was 6 years old, humanoid raids became more frequent as the Susstern War picked up momentum. With so much fighting going on, Pip used to watch the soldiers practice, but Ophelia didn’t want him to get hurt, so she forbade him to go unsupervised.
Pip chafed at this because the women were always busy when the soldiers would spar and practice. He learned to sneak around quite well. He even filched a few souvenirs. Nothing serious, a whetstone here, a polishing rag there, but one day he was discovered by Llyrren Steelhart, the watch captain.
Llyrren didn’t say anything, though. He was surprised by the lad’s gift for stealth and an idea slowly crawled its way into his head. About a week after Llyrren first noticed Pip’s sneaking about, he set a trap for the young lad. As Pip made his way back to his sleeping palette one night, he spied a small dagger, still in its sheath, lying unattended and seemingly abandoned. Pip, now nine years old, looked around and licked his lips nervously. He gingerly picked up the dagger, and sprung the snare! A loop of rope snagged the startled boy by the arm and pulled him into the air. Frightened, he let out a yelp, but Llyrren quickly materialized from the shadows and stifled the boy’s cry with a hand over the excited lad’s mouth.
The grizzled watchman released Pip from the trap and placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders. Lowering onto his haunches he talked to Pip for a while and asked him what he thought about spying. The two took a walk around the inner stockade perimeter. Pip learned that Llyrren was once a ranger. The man suggested that he could teach Pip how to spy, and how to defend himself. Naturally, Pip was anxious to learn. The only trouble now was broaching the subject to the boy’s mothers.
They were utterly against it. Llyrren spoke with them repeatedly and they drove him off. Repeatedly. Once, in fact, Ophelia threw iron cookingware at the man. Eventually, Llyrren convinced them that it would help Pip come to terms with who he was. Pip was becoming more and more aware that he was different. He often asked about his real parents, and everyone had always been able to stall him with vague answers. But he was getting older and more self-aware. Soon he would have to learn the truth and it would not be easy.
It helped, though, that Pip had hundreds of surrogate brothers and fathers in the militia soldiers. Some of the soldiers did not like Pip because of his heritage, especially Graem Mullins and Lars Cartwright, who lost their families to orcs. But most of the militia accepted him. From them (and Llyrren), Pip learned how to fight and how to defend himself. He also learned how to gamble, and he became quite good. Everyone wisely kept this aspect of Pip’s education quietly under wraps for a long time.
One dreary, rainy, painful afternoon, when Pip was ten years old, he learned the truth about his heritage. Some of the village children were making fun of him and he ran home to Tess. She sat him down at the kitchen table, gave him his favorite snack (vyscora cakes and honey-milk), and listened to him. He didn’t understand why they hated him, he hadn’t done anything.
Tess choked back her own sadness and softly and carefully explained to Pip about his heritage. He felt fear and anger and disgust and shame all bear down on him. In a surprising and terrifying display of strength and rage, he upset the heavy wooden table. For the briefest moment, Tess was scared, but then Pip collapsed to his knees sobbing. Tess held him and comforted him. It was the last time Pip cried for a long, long time.
Not surprisingly, Pip grew to hate orcs. Through the years, especially during the Susstern War, several of Pip's friends and “foster fathers” died at the hands of many different kinds of Pomarj humanoids but, for Pip, orcs were the worst. By 1169 C.Y., two years after the Elves regained control of the Suss Forest and ended the Susstern War, Pip was thirteen years old. He longed to join in the town's defense, but Adiera, Tess, and Ophelia still would not let him, saying he was too young.
One summer night, the orcs attacked the outlying farms around the village. Pip snuck out of Idryll and followed the orc host back to its camp. Instructed in the vile orc language by Llyrren, Pip listened to their bragging and boasting. From their talk, Pip learned who the leaders were and where they were gathered. He stealthily made his way back to Idryll. Grabbing a coal from the now cold stove, he quickly sketched out the orc camp on a nearby apron.
Pip found Llyrren and some men fortifying part of the stockade and breathlessly presented the makeshift map. Llyrren looked at the map and back to Pip, who excitedly told the captain what he had learned at the camp. A gleam of pride came into Llyrren’s eyes, but then he blanched.
“What’s wrong,” asked Pip, “Are they too powerful for us—you?” he amended at Llyrren’s returning glance.
“No,” breathed Llyrren. He looked resignedly at Pip and inhaled slowly. “But Ophelia’s going to kill me when she finds out about this.”
Ophelia didn’t quite kill him, but Llyrren did hurt his hand fending off the pots she sent his way. However, using Pip’s map and the information he acquired, the militia was able to send a devastating counter-strike against the orcs. Although Pip’s mothers did not wholly approve, with the aid of Pip’s growing skills, Idryll managed to fend off new attacks. In fact, Pip would often sneak into orc camps and steal weapons and food, or create diversions or havoc that made the orcs less effective.
When Pip came of age at sixteen, Llyrren gave him a gift. It looked like a flattened, slightly s-shaped piece of carved and finished, dark red coral-wood, though it was much heavier than it looked. Pip was excited but puzzled. He grinned a toothy grin, displaying his small but sharp tusks, and looked up at Llyrren. The former ranger took the item from Pip's hands and gave it a quick shake. Blades sprung from its edges with a deadly, and nearly silent, "ka-ching."
"Whoa," said Pip, "what is it?"
"It's a g'ral ," replied the older man. "It is an elegant and deadly weapon from a far off land."
Llyrren went on to show Pip that he was wearing a special gauntlet (called a b'giran) layered with chain and fitted with small bits of plated brigandine, so he didn't hurt his hand when he sprung the blades. The two went out to the fields north of Idryll and Llyrren demonstrated the g'ral.
"Watch this," Llyrren said with a grin and he lofted the g'ral into the distance. A few seconds later, Pip heard a soft "whish" noise and, suddenly, Llyrren snatched something from the air near his head. It was the g'ral.
Pip was amazed. Another toothy smile worked its way across his face. Laughing softly, Llyrren gave Pip a b'giran like his and he instructed Pip on how to throw the strange weapon. The two spent the rest of the day practicing.
As they returned to the stockade at sunset, Pip asked, "Who made it? Where did it come from?"
Llyrren gave one of his infuriating grins and said, simply, "Somewhere... beyond the fields you know." Then he tussled Pip's hair with a laugh. That was all Pip ever got out of him, though, as the years went by, Llyrren stopped tussling his hair and took to lightly jabbing his shoulder instead.
Pip continued to grow as an asset to the militia. His thieving skills improved and his fighting prowess grew with his strength and speed. One of the soldiers who Pip had become very close to, Dalen Gavinsson, was a master of the scimitar. Dalen had taken to using the exotic blade ten years earlier, during the Susstern War, after he suffered a great cut from an orc scimitar. He told Pip that it gave him a lot of satisfaction killing the enemy with its own weapon. Pip found that argument very appealing and, under Dalen’s tutelage, became very proficient in the weapon. By the time he was eighteen, he could wield one in each hand.
Pip also learned to disguise his features. He could make himself look more human or, more importantly to the militia, he could make himself look more like an orc. He could even make himself look like a hobgoblin. Pip started infiltrating humanoid camps and bringing back all kinds of useful information. He was very successful. Llyrren formed alliances with other towns and they all benefited from Pip’s skills.
Then, he was caught.
Llyrren led a rescue to the orc encampment. While he and some others created a diversion, Dalen led the rest to Pip’s aid. The orcs charged the rescue team. Dalen fought many of them off, but even his great skills could not save him from the onslaught of orcs that overtook them. Dalen was cut down by the orc chieftain while some other men cut Pip’s bonds. Pip took up his fallen friend’s weapon and, in a blur of motion and with a cry of rage, he cleaved the orc chieftain in twain.
The sudden surge of strength ripped Pip’s tunic at the shoulders and back. The other orcs hesitated and that was all the Idryll men needed. They gathered their forces and fought their way out of the camp. Pip was rescued. He never knew that the chieftain he had slain was Gûrakh, his true sire.
When they returned, Pip’s mothers ran to their foster son and showered him with worry and care. Almost immediately, however, Ophelia, (of course), fighting back tears, lectured Llyrren and Pip until they almost wished they were back fighting their way out of the camp again. Time and again, Llyrren was subjected to lecture after lecture until he finally acted.
In 1175 C.Y., Llyrren and Ophelia wed. Pip was deliriously happy. He almost had a real family. What’s more, Idryll was now part of a strong town coalition and the humanoid raids were less frequent. Thanks, in part to his efforts, the towns were safer than they had been in many a year. Despite his heritage, he was accepted and even admired; these were Pip’s happiest times.
Pip eventually became a sergeant in the militia and formed an elite group of scouts. One day, in 1191 C.Y., one of his men, a young soldier named Alaric Osbrand, reported something disturbing. He spotted what he believed to be Zecharrím. None of the Idryllans had ever fought Zecharrím but they heard the stories.
Llyrren wanted to go, himself, but Pip managed to convince the ranger to let him try first. If he could infiltrate the Zecharrím, it could be an intelligence coup. Pip spent the next two days planning and preparing. He said farewell to his mothers, Llyrren, and his friends—a standard ritual for whenever he left on an infiltration job—and he placed his most senior soldier, the capable Corporal Osric in charge until he got back. Hopefully, he would be back within a fortnight.
He was wrong.
While he was scouting out the Zecharrím encampment, refining his plan, he discovered orcs unlike any he had seen before. The monsters were well-organized and uniformed; not at all like the chaotic tribal monsters he had come to know so well. What surprised him most, however, was their ability to function in full daylight. He wasn’t expecting it and he got careless. While he was mapping out the perimeter of the camp, he was spotted.
The orcs immediately gave chase. Pip ran as hard and as fast as he could, but the Zecharrím orcs were larger than their normal cousins and could match his stride. Pip ran into the nearby hills, hoping he could lose them in the rolling countryside. His lungs burned and his muscles ached. Just when he thought he wouldn’t be able to continue, he spotted a cave near a small lake. The lake was surrounded by stone debris and looked like it formed in a large crater of some kind. There were strange, ancient runes carved about the cave entrance, but with the orcs just over the crest of the hill behind him, Pip hid in the cave without a moment’s hesitation.
As quickly as he dared, he headed down into the cavern’s dark depths. His infravision, so useful in tracking and spotting sentries in the dark, was ill-suited to finding his way through a cave. When he heard no sign of pursuit, he leaned against the cool, damp rock to catch his breath. Although he did not hear anything follow him into the cave, he heard the sounds of arguing coming from the cave mouth. He couldn’t see out of the cave because he was too far into the winding passage, but he thought he heard one of the orcs say something like, “drown it!” Then he heard the unmistakable sound of metal on stone. A few minutes later, there was a cracking sound as a portion of the crater around the lake gave way and then a roaring sound as water rushed down the cave.
Pip tried to hold onto the rock formations but, tired from his long run from the Zecharrím, the force of the water overcame him and he tumbled down the cave. Soon, he was fully engulfed in the deluge and he was sure he was going to drown.
Suddenly, the water started spinning and Pip found himself in some sort of whirlpool. The water filled with a reddish purple light, then he was falling. The eerie light vanished and a sudden flash of yellow light assailed his eyes and, for a brief moment, he thought he glimpsed the sky. Then a woodland lake, looming ever larger, filled his vision as he fell toward it. Then, he hit the lake and knew no more.
When Pip awoke, the first thing he noticed, besides his headache, was the sky. It was night and he didn’t recognize the stars. He was lying near the shore of the lake and was wrapped in a blanket. There was a fire nearby and a human man was kneeling over it. He seemed to be cooking some meat. The man glanced over at Pip.
He said something to Pip in a language Pip didn’t understand, though he could hear that the man spoke with a thick brogue. Pip shook his head and said, “Where am I?”
The man produced a hunting knife, as if from nowhere. He brandished it toward Pip and said something again in his strange tongue. Pip focused on the knife and said, “I don’t understand what you’re saying.” It was quickly apparent that the same was true of the other.
Pip tried to sit up and back away from the menacing knife but found that he was not only covered in a blanket but he was tied up. The man motioned with the knife and said something else. Attempting to cover his growing concern, Pip said, “You want to cut me loose? Okay!” and he turned a little, to expose the rope to the knife.
The man stood up and looked keenly at Pip. He seemed to be sizing Pip up. Then the man went over to the other side of the campsite and started rifling through a pack of some sort.
Now, Pip had become quite good with ropes, and he started to work on his bonds. Soon another man joined the camp. The newcomer glanced at Pip, raising an eyebrow at Pip’s consciousness. The two men spoke together.
While they were talking, Pip loosened his ropes. After another futile exchange of dialogue, the two men started to serve themselves some stew that was cooking in a pot over the fire. The first man seemed to lose to some sort of internal argument he was having with himself and put some of the stew into a third bowl.
When he gestured to Pip tentatively, Pip nodded his head. The young half-orc only just realized how hungry he was. As the man brought the bowl over and made ready to feed Pip, Pip reached out for the bowl and said, “Thanks” with his trademark, toothy grin.
Both men immediately drew weapons and took defensive stances, dropping the stew they were holding. Pip deftly caught the bowl that had been offered to him and, pretending to ignore his “hosts,” he gestured with his other free hand and said, “Do you have a spare spoon, too?”
The men stood there for a moment. Pip shrugged and promptly put the bowl to his lips and slurped up his stew. It was quite good and he was very hungry. Looking back, he would probably have enjoyed it more if it hadn’t been for the two swords bared in front of him. Both of them looked as though they’d seen their share of action.
Still, Pip continued to act non-threatening and, after a while, the men relaxed enough to sit down. Despite the language barrier, they all managed to exchange names. The first man’s name was Darian Garst and the second man’s name was Beregon Dale. Thus began one of the strangest friendships in the history of the world.
The men appeared to be foresters and they nursed Pip back to health. He had hurt his neck, shoulder, and ribs during his fall into the lake and had also managed to catch a cold. Lost, Pip accompanied Darian and Beregon back to a small settlement, which Pip learned was called Onéa. It was just a settlement then, but the settlers were trying to build it into a town.
At first, the people seemed to revile Pip. He was familiar with the looks they gave him and he knew the only answer: Time. Pip did his best to show that he meant no harm. Pip helped to build Onéa and defend it from occasional raids from orcs and other humanoids, which behaved a lot like the ones he knew.
Over time, Darian taught Pip the language of the area. Pip learned that Darian and Beregon were rangers. Beregon was seldom around Onéa, but he stopped in now and then. Pip also learned that he was no longer on Oerth, but some world named Arn. As difficult as it was for Pip to accept, he couldn’t deny that he was in a strange land. He resigned himself to staying in Onéa until he could plan his next move. Eventually, Pip and Darian became close friends. Pip also slowly won over the townspeople.
Pip often raided humanoid camps and stole (or, more accurately, recovered) supplies and food and anything else the villagers needed that the foul humanoids had pillaged elsewhere. He also found that many of the orc weapons were cleverly, if evilly, wrought. He often brought back weapons and armor for the local blacksmith, Osgeld Ironarm, to study and to improve Onéa’s own weapon-making. Eventually, some of the highest quality weapons and armor could be found in Onéa.
The Onéans accepted Pip as one of their own and even named a street after him, "Garthyk Walk", which went completely around the compound, just inside the stockade wall. The townsfolk made him feel at home, but that only fueled his desire to return to Idryll.
About six months after he first arrived on Arn, he was patrolling the road east of town, when he saw what appeared to be bloodied and beaten figures lying just inside the woods up ahead. He hurried to them and discovered the murdered bodies of some messengers, who he knew had been returning to Onéa from Riventide with some important documents for establishing trade with the city.
Pip searched the area for tracks and, finding some orc prints, immediately gave chase. After days and days of pursuit, he caught up with the monsters as they emerged from the northern edge of Arnor Forest. The beasts were attacking two Strangers who had apparently been traveling to Riventide from the northern plains.
Pip joined the fray and helped the Strangers kill the orcs. The two men had been beaten unconscious, so Pip bound their wounds and then, as a precaution, he bound them. Though he didn’t know it yet, when they came to, Pip’s adventures were only just about to begin.
Social
Current Residence
Taer-Mithéngol
Honorary & Occupational Titles
Knight bachelor (Calize)
Lord Mayor of Barclay
Wealth & Financial state
Pip has accumulated a comfortable amount of personal wealth and treasure over the course of his adventures. Additionally, King Duncan Cardane of Calize granted Pip a knights fee that included the town of Barclay, and declared Pip the Lord Mayor of Barclay as well.