Half-orc, Druid 9
He has done this for many years. His mother, a druid in her own right, had encouraged it, saying that to understand the land, to hear the voices within it, one had to live in it, rather than hiding from it. And his strong legs liked the walking, anyway. His father, an orc barbarian by the account of his mother, had raped her and left her for dead. In a surprising show of strength for one so frail though, she had survived, and rather than killing what many saw as her hideous offspring, she raised Mallus as a druid, encouraging him to follow in her footsteps. It was not always easy… it still isn’t. Mallus’ conflict is the same as that of all half-orcs’ – the call of Gruumsh – but his mother had carefully taught him how to live with that call without it corrupting him. It is a difficult balance, holding Gruumsh in check without surpressing him, but Mallus has had a log of practice at it. He loves his mother… not something many half-orcs would claim, but he does. She cared for him and raised him where others would have killed him for what he was. She taught him druidry, and this is his calling. He walks the land, patiently healing damaged forests, cleaning away parasites and abominations that would upset the balance of the land, and for the most part, he is at peace. Apart from the fact that, no matter how carefully he balances the call of Gruumsh, it is always there. His normally-good nature is only a struck match from flaring to anger, to darkness. Gruumsh revels in his uncertainty, howling with laughter as his body takes the form of the Warg, the steeds of His children. In the moments of desperation, Mallus reaches for whatever power will save him, and Gruumsh is there, waiting, biding his time, and slowly, inevitably corrupting him, pulling him towards the darkness.