Groth

Played by Jess in Steamworks & Arcana.

Back Story

Assumed by Groth...chosen young, when his tribe was wiped out by a band of mercenary slavers to either be sold as slaves or as pit fighters for the entertainment of wealthy tourists and the pit bosses made mostly of the Penance upper class.

For years of his youth he was carted around in a cage wagon and was an object of entertainment to the masses in a circus side-show. The freak with the gray skin and the sharp teeth, a man-eater from the far west. It was during these years, that Groth learned how to read the reactions of those who looked upon him and how to influence those reactions ever so subtly.

After the circus, Groth was sold to a fat dark mustached man who routinely beat him senseless and made him and a large dark-skinned man, known to Groth as Shaltok, toil pointlessly for months moving logs or stones or running tied behind his chariot. Groth and Shaltok spoke little, as Shaltok's tongue had been removed, but they developed something of a friendship during their tortured existence together.

One day the mustached man gave them each a club of leather wrapped wood with brass studs at the striking end. He then forced them to engage in melee with one another. Groth did not obey and the mustached man whipped him. Shaltok tried to motivate Groth, by feigning attacks, even lightly hitting Groth, but Groth knew Shaltok's intentions and suspected the mustached man would see through a ruse combat. Groth did not give in and the whipping ceased and the mustached man began using another of the brass-knuckled clubs to smash into the muscles of Groth. He hit him high on the arms and legs, high in the ribs when his arms were up and Groth hoped for death to release him. Before sweet release came, Shaltok was screaming insanely and attacked the mustached man. The two dueled for moments with the clubs, not a single of Shaltok's blows striking anything but the mustached man's own club as he brushed the black giants volley easily aside. The mustached man laughed as the melee continued and he began deftly slipping club blows in to strike Shaltok. Although these strikes were not as those he dealt to Groth, the fat man now targeted joints and was destroying Shaltok, relishing in the pain and torture of the mentally cracked man. Shaltok would not stop fighting even having one of his legs clearly broken at the knee and both of his hands smashed and useless, he still lunged at the mustached man who moved with a grace defying his appearence. Shaltok was like a mad dog resorting to launching his broken body at the man and snapping and biting with striking white teeth behind his large lips. The mustached man cast aside his club and drew a long slender blade from his belt.

Groth could not bear to see the closest thing he'd had to a friend be cut down before him while he lie idly by. Groth rose swiftly and silently when the mustached man turned his back and as the man drew back the blade to plunge it home at Shaltok's next advance, Groth grasped the mans wrist. As the man turned, Groth leapt past him to collide with Shaltok's frenzied lunge. Groth struggled to drag the enraged beast of a man to the ground, where Groth pinned him and stared into his eyes, trying to contact the sense within. Just as Shaltok ceased his struggle and his gaze cleared through the haze of insanity as their eyes locked, Groth bit into the man's neck, carefully avoiding any life-ending veins, arteries and his wind pipe. Again, Shalok wretched and tremored beneath Groth. He grabbed the neck, near his teeth and squeezed, restricting the blood flow. To make a better show of it, he also chewed up the side of Shaltok's face as the crippled man began to drift into unconsciousness. The mustached man watched mouth agape as the cannibalistic creature, some called a ghoul, seemingly protected him from the black mute as a dog might it's master. He'd dashed from the ground and collided in a bone-crunching collision, ripped out the man's throat and gnawed at his face, when moments ago he was cowering beneath the club. The mustached man had driven slaves insane many times before, he'd seen them bond before and even try to team up against him, but never resist fighting, to then turn against one another. Insane or no, the speed and tenacity this one attacked with was notable and the man swiftly moved up to apply a steel collar with a thick chain to Groth's neck.

Pulling the gray-skinned beast away from the still form of the battered black man, the mustached man attached the chain to the back of his chariot and rode from the pen. He would take his new fighter to be trained and leave the corpse for the coyotes and vultures. As he whipped the two brown ponies into a gait, he glanced back at the whipped and beaten sharp-toothed, gray skinned beast seeming to easily keep up behind him and his memory drifted back to the day he purchased the creature from the circus man. "The novelty is wearing off for me, as he grows he scares more of the children than he wonders, but for your trade, Bartholemew, this investment may yet yield. You must keep him fed on humans, and dwarf seems to sate him as well, but chicken or cow seem to make him ill. I don't think him a vampire, but perhaps some half-blood demon." The circus man was right, there was some demon in this creature and Barholemew stroked his mustache as he thought of the posters and marketing he could use to turn a coin. ---

After weeks of training, in which Groth participated just to maintain a full belly and and relatively unbeaten body, he found himself being pitted against beasts in front of small gatherings of spectators who were obviously betting on his survival or demise. Eventually, his foes became more violent and the crowds larger. He went from fighting rabid dogs to great cats. From great cats to beasts which walked upright on two legs, but bleated from the heads of goats and fought unskilled with clubs or axes. Having bested three of them in a ring no longer of dirt surrounded by rope, but a grand stone structure with inclining rows of seating, Groth graduated to fighting a foe nearly his match. It was an elf with one eye and many long black braids of hair falling around his pointed ears. Each was given a chain and the elf had nearly choked Groth to death, but Groth had gotten lucky and the elf did not take Groth's balance while choking him, allowing Groth to smash one of the elves feet with his heel and to turn and lunge, biting deep into the elves neck. Groth was acting on instinct, some primal beast within him lashing out to survive, to end the fight for life. As his teeth sank in, Groth remembered his fallen mute friend. He reeled away from the blood spurting elf, but the elf perished and Groth was victorious in front of an insane mob, and he'd lived up to the posters which drew the crowds. That night, as he ate his feast of fresh raw meat, he thought of the crowd and their lust for slaughter. He questioned his own motivations, after another pit warrior called him a half-demon man-eater. He did not fight to eat men, he fought for survival. There was nothing else, only kill or be killed. He then realized that he only ate meat, while many other fighers ate bread and cheese. The meat he ate that night had tasted somehow familiar, but he couldn't place it. After that, killing came easily to Groth. Although he never again sunk his fangs into another man's throat.

As he manipulated the frenzied mob at his combats, he found that something in him enjoyed taking down a foe and if it were pale-skinned, he often found himself craving their flesh. Slowly he came to realize that the meat he ate was unlike that fed to any of the others. He began to purposefully mark his combatants, cutting deep into their large muscles. It was a short time before he recognized that the slabs of meat he was fed one night were from his victim earlier in the afternoon. He thought that perhaps he should have been sickened, so he forced another warrior into trading meals with him. The bread and cheese made him quake and retch. He felt ill and almost lost the following days bout. He decided if it was his fate to be the cannibal or the man-eater, he would continue to do so and to do so while manipulating the mob. It was the only way to survive, and to sway the mob from shouts to silence and back at his whim was his only entertainment.

Months later after gaining some prestige among the pit fighting circuit, Groth had frequently seen a man named Tso Lao. This man was another fighter, seemingly ancient, wise and horribly out of place in the cages and cells of the pit fighers, Tso Lao was the only other fighter who had ventured to speak with Groth, beyond the shouting of insults. Whether it was because he was seen as a vampire or some sick abominable monster for eating human flesh or his impressive skill at disabling and killing that kept the other fighters at bay is unknown. But they rarely bullied Groth and if they did, they learned their lesson quickly, if they were alive to prosper from the knowledge. At first, Groth did not speak Tso Lao's language and understood almost nothing the old man said, but as their relationship grew and Groth imitated Tso Lao in speech as well as action, he adapted and learned. He learned Tso Lao's language, that of the Oshilians. He learned that Tso Lao had lived many lifetimes and that Tso thought himself cursed by a demon, but he would never tell Groth why, always changing the subject to the teachings of Lun Yu. Lun Yu taught that everything and everyone has a place and a purpose, and it is for the better of the individual to know his/her place and to strive to fulfill it as best as one can. Tso Lao taught Groth about loyalty, rightousness, propriety and morals in action and in thought. Tso Lao also taught Groth how to focus his thought and his strengths to impart maximum effect when he acted.

Tso Lao told Groth tales of the world outside of the pits and cages and cells. Groth heard stories of cities that were made of as many buildings great and small and as unique as the faces he could see from the bottom of the arenas. He also learned that Tso Lao and Icathyean (I-kay-thee-en), his dwarven owner, were more of partners than they were slave and master, property and owner. Groth had never given much thought to his owners before meeting Icathyean, who spoke almost nothing to the gray skinned Groth. In fact, the only vivid memory of any of the succession of owners that Groth had was of the dark mustached man from many years past. Groth had seen him once again recently, when fighters were being auctioned off. The man's dark hair was streaked with gray, but he still moved smoothly despite his weight, although hid it behind a gruffness of voice and impressive personality. Pit fighter owners would often change, as a fighter's value would increase or decrease, or an owner's bodyguards or defensive magics would fail or be otherwise persuaded to leave an unsuspecting back turned toward a thirsty blade. Tso Lao said Icathyean had been his only manager, and that he'd known the dwarf since he was raiding tombs in the serpent isles.

Groth learned much from the old man and the fights blurred and faded in his mind, becoming mundane and routine. Groth found that he no longer drew pleasure from playing with the mob, but from his visits with Tso Lao, whom was the only undefeated warrior Groth knew of. Groth had been fighting for what he guessed was twenty years and he'd only been beaten a handful of times, although never yet killed. He did not look forward to the day he would have to face Tso Lao in the arena. Although that day came.

Groth had not been defeated for one hundred fights, and Tso Lao supposedly never. It was also on the day where the suns would cross paths with the great moon and there would be a shadow over the land and a ring of great fire in the sky. They were scheduled to commence the combat when the shadow was fullest in the largest of Penance's arenas, the great collesium of the architect Penredias. The floor of the arena had many pit traps and trap doors that could be opened from beneath and would often be opened releasing rabid dogs or great serpents into the combat. Typically, the traps would only be sprung when a duel was drawing on too long, but recently with both Tso lao and Groth's battles the bar had been raised recently. They had both been pitted against multiple foes or forced to fight in arenas criss-crossed with pits of burning oil, or to fight while the first few rows of the crowd were allowed to throw stones at the competitors. Only the fates and the devious minds in charge of the fights knew what horrors the arena held for them during their battle. As was the practice, the competitors would be taken to separate cells nights before a battle, so as to not conspire or to prematurely injure each other. As Tso Lao was being escorted away he said only four words to Groth, "do what is right."

Groth pondered those words for hours, the following day, while stretching and going through his routine excercises taught to him by Tso Lao a dwarven gladiator, unrecognized by Groth approached him. This dwarf introduced himself as Boxil Brighthammer, son of Traik Brighthammer his unease palpable to Groth. Groth introduced himself. The dwarf then spewed forth a plan for escape that many of the warriors were brewing. They had been given orders to travel via tunnel beneath the arena floor and to attack some minutes into the fight, all trying to kill Tso Lao. Many were afraid of the suicide mission and Boxil mentioned having been a stone cutter many years ago and having the opportunity to see the plans for the arena when it was being constructed. He was pretty certain he knew of a way for them to escape through the tunnels rather than dying at the hands of the old man. Groth sent the dwarf away having agreed to ponder their plan. ---

Four days later, the suns rose together toward a high-cast moon in the late afternoon and the arena was bustling with activity as thousands of spectators poured in, trading coin and gem for tokens indicating their bets. They bet not only on victors, but also as to whether or not there would be a fatality, on whether or not Groth would bite into the flesh of the old man, as to whether or not the old man would kill Groth with a single touch, as to whether or not the pit traps would open or there would be great balls of fire rolled across the arena to distract the warriors. All manner of odds were placed on all manner of possibilities and more money changed hands than resided in the greatest bank of Kestel.

As the suns began to hide beind the great moon, the warriors were brought out. No weapons, no armor. They stood some fifty paces apart and as their collars were removed and the arena workers scrambled back into their dark holes beneath the clamoring mob and porticulluses shut, Tso Lao and Groth bowed to eachother, and to their ancestors to the south and to their great master Lun Yu to the east. As semi-darkness spread over the land, a great gong sounded magically echoing far and wide and the two warriors slowly approached one another. Groth was torn, he knew much but certainly the old man had not taught him everything and he was just a babe in the hands of a master. A master whom he had no desire of fighting. Less then that, he had killed countless men and beasts whom he had no desire to fight. He wanted not to fight Tso Lao. Before he could begin to hypothesize, the old man attacked and by years of training, Groth parried and countered which was in turn parried and countered. The two seemed to dance for minutes, every kick and punch and grapple being turned or dodged or broken. Both warriors seemed to flow over one another like fluid. The speed and power behind their attacks was tangible. It had nearly silenced the mob and the impacts of their limbs could be heard if not felt by the onlookers. All seemed to hang in the balance and the two warriors never seemed to lose contact and moved very little, simply side-stepping each other, never retreating, never getting enough advantage to take the others balance.

Groth fought without thinking. Later he would realize that was what he had been doing for months, if not longer. Since he'd been learning from Tso Lao, combat seemed to flow from him and he was not fully engaged in it anymore. It seemed to just come naturally to him.

Some minutes into the battle, the pits opened. Out poured many of the selected gladiators, they had spears and approached the duelists. When they were close, all spears pointed at Tso Lao. Groth stepped back as the old man broke the tip from a spear just before it entered his throat with a swift chopping motion of his hand, then with blinding speed his other hand grabbed the broken shaft and rammed it into the ribs of the attacker with rib-crunching force. Tso Lao then grinned at Groth and Groth heard the old man's voice in his mind again telling him to "do what is right." Groth turned and dove into the closing trapdoor just as Boxil was closing it.

---

That was some years ago. Since then Groth learned to sail as a pirate and a shiphand. He has seen some of the great cities Tso Lao has told him of. He has put himself as far from Penance as possible. Only once did a man recognize him and the poor drunk attacked, asking to see how tough the man-eater really was outside of the mock-combat of the arenas of Penance. The surly pirate died seconds later, choking on his own blood with a crushed throat, looking into the gray eyes of Groth the man-eater, the blood-sucker, the demon spawn. The disciple of Tso Lao and Lun Yu. Groth has been searching for demons. Those he's found have been men with dark magics or beasts of immense proportion, but not the fabled hell-spawn he seeks. He seeks them to find out if he is actually demon borne as well as to learn of the curse of Tso Lao. Groth will also usually do everything in his power to banish the undead, as they are not obeying the propriet of life. Their spirits should be released into the afterworlds, not kept dwelling trapped in spent bodies as the slaves of evil.

Background

Groth has been searching for demons. Those he's found have been men with dark magics or beasts of immense proportion, but not the fabled hell-spawn he seeks. He seeks them to find out if he is actually demon borne as well as to learn of the curse of Tso Lao. Groth will also usually do everything in his power to banish the undead, as they are not obeying the propriety of life. Their spirits should be released into the afterworlds, not kept dwelling trapped in spent bodies as the slaves of evil.

Personality

Groth possesses the following personality-defining traits:

Is fairly unattractive with his pointed teeth and skinny gray-skinned body.
He is mildly shy.
Groth can fall into a primal murderous bloodlust in grave circumstances.
He has vowed to banish back into the void the undead who disrespect the propriety of life.
He is poor and has few possessions.
He is something of a workaholic, which has garnered him some respect among shipping crews of late.
He practices a Confusianism-like belief system.