Ruksur Vakhrendun

Translated from Draconic:

My name is Ruksur Vakhrendun. From what I can gather from my dreams, my nightmares, I was once a warrior in my tribe, Perhaps not a leader, but known and respected in my own right. I was responsible for tearing apart many a traveler, and more than a few raiding parties. Ii had a mate, thought her name I do not recall. I do not know if she lives, has died, or has found a new mate, for I no longer belong to my tribe. I do not even know if they still exist.

The tentacled ones haunt me. I can still hear their strange, indecipherable squabble in my mind, and it chills me to the bones. The came at us in the night. there was no warning, until the screams began. First, one of my fellow guards, then my own brother. Then, it was I who did the screaming. The pain in my mind was unbearable! I can see myself falling to the ground, clenching my head, trying to shake the sounds from my head. Had we all gone mad? What type of hellish possession was this?
That is when I saw it. The soft, slimy head, with beady white eyes stepped out of the cave we just found. I knew them as the enemy and wanted to fight. But the pain in my head prevented me. I was helpless; a warrior defeated without the swing of an axe, the flight of an arrow. I could do nothing but watch them come. the tentacles, the vile, writhing tentacles touched my face, and I screamed louder, louder than I thought possible. The tentacles entered my mind, touched my brain. That feeling will terrify me forever.
I awoke with them all around me; I was strapped to some crude table watching them move around, never talking, arranging instruments as if preparing for an operations.... or dinner. Then, they touched me again. I learned quickly not to resist them. To resist meant to scream. I knew nothing from my past, only what they showed me, what they taught me. I came to realize they changed me somehow. I was now able to make myself grow, if only for a short time. I could hurt others, and that is what they wanted me to do.
They taught me to fight, but without weapons. They made me a pit fighter, tearing apart other captives for their enjoyment. Those that watched enjoyed the terror on a creatures' face when I grew, then attacked with tooth and claw. I never lost, for to lose meant to die. I killed many creatures, from weak humans to skilled drow, even tore apart a pair of ogres.
I tried many times to escape, but to no avail. I even tried to kill one of them before. That was perhaps my worst mistake ever. It was futile, and I screamed for days afterward. I thought they would kill me, but they had other plans.
I came into the area the the usual silent, motionless stares I'd become accustomed to, ready to fight, to kill. Then I saw my opponent, my own brother. Though I didn't recognize him, they told me it was him. It was like looking in a mirror; no armor, no weapons, just tooth and claw. I had fought and killed others of my kind, but to be told this one was blood to me, I could not understand. I had family, others with which I was raised? If this were true, then how could I kill my kin for the enjoyment of those I truly hate? I didn't want to do it. I tried to resist, to reason with this one, make him understand me. I heard laughter, but not in my mind, out loud; real, genuine laughter, bubbling gurgling laughter. The first sound I'd heard from these monsters since my capture. Then I moved, but not of my own will. They were going to make me kill my brother!
The 'battle' began but lasted only a few moments. They didn't even let him fight back! I watched in horror as my arms smashed into my brothers' body, claws tearing into his chest. They didn't even let him scream. My arms continued to tear into his body, strips of scales and muscles ripping from his bones. My face leaned down and tore into his shoulder and swallowed a piece of by kin. After they forced me to rip open his chest, they made me watch as his heart slowed, the lifeblood oozing from all parts of his body. Then it stopped, and my soul felt crushed. The laughter continued, grew louder.
Weeks, perhaps months went by, all with more killing. One day, while I was resting. I woke to the sound of battle. Not from the arena, though. I knew that sound, it came from somewhere else. I raised my head from my place on the floor, for that is where I slept, to see my master leaving. Had I been forgotten? Was this my chance to escape? I dared to get u and peek out of the dwelling. the city was under attack! I don't know who dared to attack these creatures, but I didn't care. I snuck out and ran for the first exit cave I could find.
I never looked back but ran forever. I didn't know where I was going. didn't know if I would survive, but I was willing to try. There had to be something better, more satisfying than slavery. I lost all sense of time and direction, and several times I thought I heard the voices in my head again. Each time, I ran more. I ate what I could find, which often wasn't much. After an eternity of pseudo-darkness, I saw light. I ran toward it with all the might I had left....."

Ruksur Vakhrendun is hailed among the Lizardfolk of Ruksur as the founder of their loose nation. Stories of his trials have been passed on to nearly every member of the race as acknowledgement of the power one can wield through determination and will.

Call to Adventure

Ruksur's true origin is unknown since he couldn't remember himself. After his escape from the Illithid, Ruksur found the area of North Eastern Emitharia that later became his namesake. As he traveled this area, he found the Vakhrendun tribe of lizardfolk that were willing to take an unknown into their care. His enhanced abilities enabled his rise quickly in the ranks to a respected member of the tribe. During what is now known as the Dwarven Age, Ruksur discovered that many tribes in the area were besieged by other races and monsters. Refusing to be beaten or turned into a slave again, Ruskur used his might and prowess to unite the tribes temporarily to establish the lizardfolk as a true race in the world.

Trials

Defense of his kin

One of Ruksur's first legendary stories involved his combat with a wandering troll. As the leader of a hunting party, his group stumbled upon a troll's territory. They were attacked by the giant, and several of the troupe were killed quickly. Recovering from the surprise attack, Ruksur rallied the remaining hunters and charged the monster. Ruksur used his powers to grow equal in size to the troll and proceeded to wrestle it to the ground and beat it to death with his bare fists. When the creature got back up, a bewildered Ruksur attacked again, eventually ripping the trolls head off.

Defense of his tribe

Ruksur eventually became leader of his adopted tribe and excelled at his ability to keep members of it safe. Once, the tribe was once again targeted by the Illithid. Ruksur's hatred for the aberrations was well known by now. To save his tribe from death and enslavement, he issued a challenge to the greatest of the enemy. Remembering who Ruksur was, his former master stepped forward. Ruksur was ready for the mental attacks this time and steeled his mind from the assault. The tribe watched with nervous anxiety as the two combatants didn't seem to move for several minutes as the mental fight raged between the two. With a grin of success and revenge, Ruksur leapt forward and slammed the Mind Flayer with his claw, tearing a tentacle from the monsters' face. The lizardman continued the physical assault, remembering the devastation they forced him to deal to his brother. He unleashed those memories upon his former master who was ill suited to defend itself this way.
The other mind flayers were angered at losing to one of their former slaves, and readied to assault the tribe anyway. Ruksur knew of their treachery, however, and set up an ambush for them with the help of some other tribes. The slaughter of the Illithids was swift and unyielding.

Defense of his land

Ruksur's most triumphant moment cemented his name upon the world. Though not the smartest, Ruksur's wisdom and understanding of the world was immense. He sought to prove to the other races that lizardfolk were more than a group of nomadic monsters that should be hunted. Through careful meetings with the leaders of the Dwarves and Dragonborn races, Ruksur was able to establish a relative peace among the people. The town of Solluph was built to foster trade among the races, and the swampland of the area was made the eminent domain of the lizardfolk. Because of his actions, lizardfolk have become staunch members of various militaries throughout the land and hailed as strange, but reliable people.

The Return

Because of Ruksur's acts of strength and diplomacy, lizardfolk have become welcome members of society. Though they remain tribal and nomadic, lizardfolk have vowed not to attack other communities without just cause, and hunt other monsters of the land. Some dissenters believe his accomplishments to be embellished, but the stories continue to be passed down as a lesson to the younglings.

Alignment

Neutral

Species

Lizardman

Age

48

Year of Death

4469

Circumstances of Death

Ruksur was killed when a black dragon, Nuvrenturth, attempted claim the swampland as her new domain. Ruksur defeated the dragon, but was mortally wounded. Healers wished to heal him, but Ruksur refused, proclaiming he wanted a warrior's death and funeral.

Gender

Male

Eyes

Bright Yellow

Hair

None

Skin Tone/Pigmentation

Pale Green

Height

6'7"

Weight

375