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Character Name: Harzag


Physical Description: Harzag is a Myrddraal. Being such, it has no real outstanding features. Harzag is tall, about 6 feet, and thin. His hair is matte black, reflecting no light whatsoever. Its skin is smooth and maggot white. Of course, it has no eyes, not even an indent of where they would be. Its body is encased in segmented black armor as dull and unreflecting as its hair, and it wears a cloak over this that doesn’t stir, no matter how strong the wind. The belt encircling its slim waist carries two weapons: a bullwhip which it uses to drive the Trollocs under its command, and a sword, its blade blacker than night, and forged at Thakan’dar.


Place of Birth/Raising: Born in the Blight


Character History

Being a Myrddraal, Harzag’s history is nothing special. It was born to the Trollocs Vrezgl and Murlka, but it never knew its parents. At a young age, it was taken from them to receive the training that any Myrddraal receives: tactics and combat. Its natural grace was made for killing, as was the grace of any other Myrddraal. It was taught many other things in its lessons. The unique powers of the Myrddraal could only be taught to it by other Myrddraal, and it learned quickly. In its dark heart, Harzag harbored a deep-seated hate for humanity, for anything that stood against its Great Lord. Its hate was especially latent when its fellows taught it the ways of torture. The first smile to ever cross Harzag’s face was at the sound of a man begging to die.


The graduation of another leader of the Shadowspawn is not a long, celebratory event. The Myrddraal are given their orders, and they set out about them. Harzag was no different. A raid into Shienar for victims to bring to Thakan’dar. The forge masters needed souls to create the fearsome blades that all Myrddraal carried. Harzag’s own weapon was sheathed at its belt, ready to be used for the first time. As the small raiding party crossed into Shienar, it smiled again. In its mind, Harzag could feel the anxiousness and bloodlust of the Trollocs it commanded. It would not disappoint them. The lights of a village were easily discernable through the trees. Despite its lack of eyes, Harzag could see. And it could see well, better than the pathetic humans who wouldn’t be able to see it until it planted its sword in their ribs. Again, its lips curled up in a sadistic smile. “Now,” he growled in the coarse tongue of the Trollocs.


The village never stood a chance.




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