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Name: Matan Laggak
Age: 17
Birthday: January 1st
Species: Orc
Abilities: Aside from the standard extreme strength and hardiness common in those of Orc blood, he has some limited use of magic. Spells include fire- and holy-based rays and projectiles, lancing spears of pure energy, simple healing spells and the ability to surround himself in two types of auras that damage any opponent that strikes while they are active. Matan also displays skill and proficiency in the use of almost all types of melee weapons, but he prefers to use glaives and greatswords; he infact owns a greatsword that is more akin to a hulking mass of metal than a blade.
Likes: Matan enjoys intellectual conversation, small children, giving piggyback rides to smaller creatres, a good book, and tests of skill such as duels or video games.
Dislikes: Matan has a hatred for humanity, with the exception of children. As for simple dislikes, he doesn't care for non-humans that prefer to keep a human form, demons and angels, hypocrites, people who are exceedingly vain, those who reinforce stereotypes, and those who have a disregard for honor.
Personality: This huge brute of an orc may at first seem like a barbaric monster, but in reality he is a soft-spoken gentleman, unusually intelligent, polite and courteous at all times, kind, proud, and honorable. He believes that rules and laws that are unjust can simply be broken, and this sometimes leads him into trouble. But, as the old adage goes: "There are three things a wise man fears: a storm at sea, a moonless night, and the anger of a gentle man." This is most true with Matan, who when angered, loses control of his gentlemanly demeanor, and reverts to the bloodrage that his race is so infamous for. Luckily for most, this threshold is both difficult to reach, and quite rare.
Background Info: A rather strange example of the usually savage and barbaric race that is the Orcs, this hulking monster was parented by his clan after he was born to the Laggak chieftain and the Laggak shaman. His father, a ruthless savage with an unquenchable bloodlust, trained Matan from the day he could wield a blade properly, that he may one day succeed him as chief. His mother, however, was an unusually kind and wise orc woman who was skilled in magic who wished a more peaceful life for her son, for she had seen a vision of the great man that Matan would one day become. So, in secret, she trained him in the use of her magic, versing him in the strange arcanaeum that is orcish magic.
Skip forward a few years, and on the day of his 12th birthday, the boy, soon to be a man by tradition of the orcs, had a choice given to him. He could stay, and live the life of a bloodthirsty savage, or leave the clan forever, and live a peaceful life. Obviously, he chose the second path. But his father had heard of the shaman's plans for his heir, and intercepted him, challenging the boy to a duel to the death. By orcish tradition, Matan could not refuse, for refusal meant death. So, he took up his blade and faced his father down. He realised the older orc had a clear advantage; he was stronger, larger, and far more experienced. But he was also older, and much slower than the youth, and Matan took advantage of this. When the duel began, Matan focused on quick blows, striking and retreating before his father could retaliate. But his father was a hardy bastard, he would not go down that easily. Matan's strikes, while rapid, lacked any true force behind them, so they did little damage. But his determination did not waver, and the two kept at it for hours. But the boy, not expecting the fight to last so long, began to falter. The older orc noticed, and took advantage of this, and finally caught his son in the side, sending the boy flying.
At that moment, the boy had two choices: He could either submit to his death, or unleash his orcish rage upon the man he called his father. But before he could decide, his opponent closed the distance, and struck out with his blade. Matan's body then acted on its own, as he stopped his father's sword bare-handed, as his blood began to boil. The youth kicked hard, knocking the older orc on his back, and with a fluid motion, spun to his feet, switched his grip on his father's blade, and drove it into the orc's heart. But instead of shock, the older orc merely grinned, as if he was the victor. And his final words haunt Matan to this day: "You have succeeded me, whether you like it or not..."
After that day he had left the village with his father's blade, headed for the only place he could, a strange place where monsters like him could learn of the world... School.
Any Extra Info: Nothing to put here. Just ignore this hard to read text.
