Muty Bluetooth Character in Fyria | World Anvil

Muty Bluetooth

Muty Bluetooth

All Muty knows is one day he opened his eyes and was met with a scene of absolute horror. Corpses lay atop of him, and the sounds of crunching bone and moaning anguish surrounded him.   He pushed the decomposing corpses that were draped over him aside in a surprising heave of strength. He stood with unsure feet as if unfamiliar with his own body. Peering in front of himself he found a deep pit of corpses and monsters wailing and reaching for a strange shrine in front of him. A terrifying beast of blackened muscle and sinew perched atop it's ruined peak, howling in rage. He stood frozen in place, too afraid to move in this scene of chaos. Where was he!?   Suddenly, his eyes caught a gleam of light from below. He looked down to his feet, a discarded piece of broken mirror. The shimmering surface reflecting back something an odd. Without a thought, he bent over and picked up the item. An anguished face beamed back at him. Grotesque and unfamiliar.   This couldn't be, he thought, that isn't me! He took a moment to examine this stranger in the smudged mirror. Long thinning black hair, dead pale eyes, and a gaping hole punctured his now human face. Dropping the mirror in fright he looked down at the rest of his body. Quickly examining them he found he was far more muscular than he once was, standing well over six feet tall. Though his skin was still blueish in tone it was not the natural coloration of this being. He had the skin of a corpse, blue and swollen, thick purple veins running across his somehow still mobile limbs.   His frantic thoughts were cut short when he heard the sounds of a nearby creature. A discomforting slurping sound emanated from a nearby mass. Translucent and filled with bone and debris. His mind frantically screamed to run but he found his feet moving towards it.   What are you doing!? His mind screamed. Run! But forward his feet brought him, faster towards this strange object. A hand, his hand, reached to his back and retrieved a frighteningly large two-handed sword. No, no, not this, I can't, his mind raced as fast as his feet now did. Plummeting towards confrontation.   As he approached this mass shifted forms and grew to almost his new height. A gelatinous blog filled the skeletons of the deceased. It glowered at him, sizzling goo spitting from its open maw.   His feet left the ground, sword arched backwards. No!! His minded still raced. His sword swung down.   The story of the resurrection of Murt the Moron begins with the panicked thoughts of a Coblyn and the sure footing of a barbarian warrior.

Mental characteristics

Personal history

Growing up in the Kingdom of Heldrin, Muty was a cautious, easily frightened child. As a Coblyn this wasn't strange though as many of his brethren were much the same as they traversed a strange world that refused to accept them. Eventually, Muty made Roseport his permanent home and doubled down in his attempts to make a serviceable life for himself.   Muty would eventually meet his wife Ulgrith in which he would settle down and have three children. Two daughters, Gritah and Hilogg, and son, Spug. They lived in a small apartment on the basement floor of an old tavern in Roseport's Olde Crow district. Ulgrith and their children would help the tavern's owner during the day for a small wage while Muty went out to find whatever work he could find.   As a Coblyn Muty found finding work a difficult challenge, as no one would take on a Coblyn for a permanent position for fears of personal harm or worse, ridicule from their peers. Because of this Muty worked odd jobs to support himself and his growing family. His profession of choice changed from day to day, if he was lucky enough to find any work. One day he would find himself working as a dock hand in the Harbour District, mopping decks of salt covered ships or loading large crates of cargo onto outgoing vessels. And by the next day, he could find himself scrubbing the floors and washing the dirty chipped dishes of a dive bar in Lamphouse. Each job was tough, low paying, and frequently demeaning. But Muty didn't mind, the smiles and excitement of his children and the warm embrace of his wife at the end of each night were well worth it and kept him sane and happy.   Muty was born to a family of Coblyns and he learned quickly that his people were shunned, and treated much like their cousins, the sour minded and violent Goblin. Though the Coblyn weren't murdered on site like the wild Goblins were they were heavily marginalized and discriminated against. Finding themselves berated by the harsh words of those who misunderstood or refused to accept their presence in society.   To make matters worse, Muty was known amongst the town as being a reliable clutz. No matter how hard he tried he would often foul whatever he was trying to accomplish at hand. Consistently breaking dishes at the bar, tripping into patrons while trying to serve meals, or that one time he accidentally dropped a valuable crate of spices into the depth of the Roseport Harbour.   This is how Muty's days came and went, hard days or work and insults wore on his tired skinny body. But as the days dragged to an end he was always greeted by the warmth and love of his family. Making his hard days fought worth it. He was able to support and feed his loving family. And that was his only care in the world.   That's what makes the mysterious death, and eventual resurrection of Muty so tragic. The story of his death is currently unknown. The story of his resurrection is currently unfolding.
Current Location
Species
Ethnicity
Year of Birth
730 EoC 28 Years old
Circumstances of Birth
Unexceptional Birth/Resurrected as Unfallen in 758 EoC
Circumstances of Death
Unknown
Children
Current Residence
Roseport
Eyes
Dark Green (Originally), Pale White (Unfallen)
Hair
Bald (Originally), Long Patchy Black Hair (Unfallen)
Height
3'2" (Originally), 6'7" (Unfallen)
Weight
40 lbs. (Originally), 245 lbs. (Unfallen)
Aligned Organization


Cover image: MY Barbarian by Miguel Iglesias
Character Portrait image: Goblin by Miro Petrov

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