Orc

“Ship ho!” the call came down. Rakku, up in the rigging, made her way to the deck and into the hold. The first mate of the Kiro’Katenka, she began waking the rest of the crew, rousing them for the coming raid. A warhorn sounded above, followed closely by the steady, deep beats of a drum. The hull lurched as the oars caught their first taste of seawater. Rakku’s shipmates streamed past her up to the deck, gleaming steel in their hands and murder in their eyes. No vessel was faster than the Kiro’Katenka under oar and sail.

“Across the water, some leagues away, The Chiefs Plunder glided through the night. Unaware of the impending danger and being only a few days out of Gurturang Island, it sailed peacefully onwards. Her lookout, Sikmurnd, was a greenhorn out of Filandur. He didn’t hear the horn until it was far too late.”

The beat of a drum, the rocking motion of a ship under oar and sail, the gleam of steel and gold, the below of a warhorn. The snoring of an orcs crew as he lies awake in the hold, listening to the waves lapping against the hull. The clink of coins and hubbub of a port as another seals the deal on a shipment of goods. An orc's life can take many forms, but all are united by one common element: a love of the sea.

Built and Boisterous

Broad of shoulder, taller than most races, and rippling with muscles, orcs are well suited to a life at sea. Most orcs stand around 7 feet tall, but can reach 8 easily. Whether pulling the oars of a longship or climbing the rigging of a clipper, their powerful build keeps them bound to the ship as well as any rope would.

Orcish blood also comes with a lack of inhibitions. As such, orcs are often very true to themselves and their desires, disregarding social norms or faux pas’ in favour of being their uproarious selves. An orc wastes no time on fancy words or tiptoeing around subject matter, instead telling others exactly what they want, often with gusto.

Seafaring Tribes

Orcs, by tradition, have been raiders and plunderers since their species could pick up a stick and aim. Their island lifestyle led to the early invention of longships, sail and oar technology. Centuries passed with tribes raiding one another, pillaging and destroying coastal villages and waring over the islands of The Great Archipelago. This continues even into the present day, but some have realised the value of playing nice with other races.

The tribes of the archipelago are numerous, and bloodlines stretch back hundreds of generations. Many tribes control one or a few islands, ferrying between those they have access to. Wars are rare in their territories as they tend to settle disputes in the moment, often with a duel or brawl, the victor being the one in the right.

Born of Leviathan

Many races owe their existence to the primordials, being of immense power over the elements. Orcs in particular believe that they were birthed from the womb of Leviathan, created deep below the waves and born in the seafoam on the shores of the archipelago. As such, most if not all orcs owe fealty to the Primordial of Water, and worship her in all facets of life.

Priests of Leviathan are common on every orc vessel on the seas of Arbor, and temples exist in every settlement of sufficient size. Warriors pledge themselves to her service regularly with offerings of their own flesh to the sea, tattooing their bodies with holy symbols and depictions, or scaring their skin in Leviathans name. Ceremonial weapons are common among priests as well, forged in dedication or in thanks for creating them.