Steal My Character: Goekra, Herald of The Storm Fist

Minotaur Path of the Storm Herald Barbarian Outlander


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While this character exists in the realm of Althinon, feel free to change locations, names, gods, demons, etc to fit in your world.

Goekra, Herald of The Storm Fist … was bored.

He had been serving The Raven Queen for countless eons, tormenting and terrifying dwellers of her majesty’s endless maze. After so much time, nothing surprised him anymore, prisoners of the maze begging for mercy, pleading their innocence, blah blah blah.

He cried out to her majesty countless times. Crying for relief from the boredom, the monotony. Nothing. No response. No acknowledgement of his suffering. Goekra, not being particularly smart, didn’t know what to do so, he did … nothing.

He just sat down and waited, watched incredulous prisoners of the maze carefully hurry by him, watching the moss grow and die on the walls as the days and months passed.

And then she appeared before him …

“Goekra, why do you disobey me?”

“Goakra so boooooooooored!,” he bellowed, phlegm shooting out of his mouth and getting on her majesty’s feathered robe.

The queen extended her clawed hand into the air, lifting Goekra, through dark magics, off the ground, choking him into silence.

“Serving me, should be excitement enough! Doing my bidding should be your greatest joy! You are nothing, not worthy of having emotions contrary to the ones I say you can have!”

She released Goakra from her grasp, he fell to the ground grasping his throat, the storm’s rage building behind his eyes, filling his fists, as he stared a murderous stare at The Queen.

“Hahahaha,” The Queen laughed hideously, “You disobey and then you contemplate my death. Amusing. Possibly useful. I have a challenge for you. One that may mean your death but will definitely not be boring. What say you?”

Goakra, composing himself, stood up, looked to the heavens and let out the loudest, most passionate roar of his life. “YESSSSS. Anything but this!”

“You, my Herald of the Storm Fist, will test my followers on the material plane. Separate the wheat from the Chaff, until the day you find one that bests you and then I will have my new Herald of the Storm Fist. Then you can … rest forever.”

Goakra nodded, “I am ready. Bring forth your little champions!”

The Queen’s laughter echoed through his ears as he fell to the hard earth of the material plane.

 

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