Koruk Azohal

Basic Information

Name: Koruk Azohal
Age: 36
Occupation before the outbreak: Bodyguard
Race: Half-orc
Alignment: True Neutral
Deity: Tempus
Country/City/Region of Origin: The Moonsea Region, outside of Phlan

Additional Information

Height: 6’ 5”
Weight: 240 lbs
Skin Tone: Tannish-grey
Eye Color: Hazel
Hair: Dark brown
Unique Features: Sword scar on left cheek, long jagged scar on right arm

History (Overview)

Nestled just outside Phlan there is a small clan that consists of orcs, half-orcs, and humans. Koruk was just your average, run-of-the-mill half-orc. He was trained by his orc father, a battle-scarred barbarian, in blade and battle while his human mother, the clan’s shaman, trained him in discipline and inner peace. These traits he acquired while growing up seemed to intertwine in perfect harmony making Koruk a protector of his clan, a warrior of great skill, and a friend of all. Over the years Koruk protected his clan from all outside threat whether it be thieves, outside military, or pirates and stepped up as clan protector when his father could not due to his old age. While he was outside practicing sword drills with the clan youth he thought he heard thunder but looked up in the sky and only saw blue. He turned and saw a cloud of dust that seemed to get closer; he also heard whinnies from horses and yells coming from their riders. “Everyone needs to go inside. Now!” he growled as he unsheathed his great sword and started walking towards the approaching group. As they came into view the group of men looked to be of military status and stopped their horses just a few feet from Koruk. Koruk spits to the side of him. “State your business. Why are you here disturbing the peace of my clan?” He grips the hilt of his great sword until his knuckles become white. One of the militia men, a captain, pulls up his visor from his helmet, gives Koruk a snarky glare, and states “Your clan is now in the boundaries of the King’s rule. I am here to relay a message on behalf of the King to all villages, clans, and towns. We are battling a war with our neighboring kingdom and request all those now in the King’s boundaries to fight in his name. Refuse the offer and all of your members will face death.” Some of the warriors overheard the speech and started to revolt. The rest of the clan was ready to defend their home and the militia was about to act, but Koruk stood in the middle and shouted “Lower your weapons! Let me speak before fighting in blind rage.” He turns to the captain, “If I volunteer to fight no matter how many years it will be, will you spare my clan’s life?” Seeing Koruk’s stature and his weaponry the militia agreed. “Better to get one of you willingly than try to convince a small portion, let’s go half-orc.” Koruk looks to the warriors standing before him, “Protect everyone while I’m away and look after one another, I will be back.” Koruk was thrown on a horse bound to the kingdom’s military camp miles away from home. While training he did not forget what his parents taught him and used his skills to sharpen his tactics in battle, becoming a great sword specialist. He spent the next two years fighting in battle and surviving each hardship that was thrown at him.


Koruk was released after the war was over and won, now in his mid-30s he was finally heading home. As he walks the path back to his clan he feels he grew stronger both in body and mind, even if the scars of battle show through. Koruk doesn’t think of the scars as something shameful, but something he is proud of. He is proud of the sacrifice he made for his clan, he was willing to die for them, and he thought he was going to be coming back to his clan as a hero. As he sees the familiar houses come into view a smile grew on his face and started to walk faster to see everyone including his family. When he stepped on the open grounds the warriors he trained did not welcome him with open arms but with blades pointed at him. Koruk was confused “What is going on here? I fight in a war to protect your lives and this is how you repay me?! With swords to my throat?!” All members of the clan start to come from their homes and yell him names at him like ‘coward’, ‘betrayer’, and ‘King kisser’. Koruk’s father comes from his home, shakes his head, and gives his son an explanation. “Fighting for a King is more disgraceful than fighting and dying for your home. You turned your backs on us and now we will turn ours to you.” All of his valuables were thrown at him in the dirt and his clan started to turn to their homes. Koruk took a step forward, but the warriors thrusted their blades to him. Koruk yelled in anger “I was thinking for the clan’s safety! Most of you wouldn’t be alive for the sacrifice I made! Fine, I’ll leave but a message to you warriors. You wouldn’t be in this position if I didn’t train you two years ago.” He gathered his belongings from the dirt, packed what he can carry, and traveled away from the clan he saved. “Some welcoming party.”


Koruk has traveled many months now on a search for his purpose since his clan turned their backs on him. He has settled in Suzail for a couple of days to recuperate and stock up on supplies. While in the market Koruk was approached by a gruff military man. He seemed to be in his late 50s and was eyeing Koruk of all angles when Koruk backs up a bit uncomfortable, “Can I help you?” The man takes off his glasses and looks to Koruk “Th’ name’s Sam and I can tell a military fighter from the common folk. You look like th’ type of person I need to speak to and may help me. Mind a couple of minutes of your time?” Koruk was taken aback but shrugged and agreed, then followed Sam to an inn. He ordered a drink for them two and laid his hands on the table. “I’m going to be frank with you Mr....?” “Koruk” he says. “Mr. Koruk, am I right about you being in the military?” Koruk nodded. “Let me start off by this, my life is in danger and I need protection. I can’t trust anyone outside of military for personal reasons but something about you drove me to you. How do you feel about being my bodyguard?” Koruk fiddles with the handle of his glass, “Why are you in danger?” Sam replies swiftly, “Too much detail, but I didn’t kill anyone. I’ll pay you in supplies, shelter, and new weaponry in exchange for your protection. I’m an old man looking for help, do you accept?” Koruk ponders the idea for a minute but remembers what his clan did to him when he tried to protect them. This is a chance to make him feel proud and relied on other than his clan so he agrees. “Splendid!” Sam shouts. “Tomorrow we travel to Waterdeep! I have connections to meet for personal business.” Sam and Koruk clink glasses and down their drinks. Fast forward to Waterdeep Sam and Koruk are in a bar waiting for Sam’s connections to meet them, two empty glasses each fill the tabletop. An occupant on the high top is talking rather loudly about a virus that wiped out all of Siranda’s people and reanimating them as zombies. Koruk seemed to scoff a little but Sam was intrigued when he hears other people whisper about this being truth. He told Koruk he is going to talk to his connections and have three scouts search the area, report back with their findings, and wants Koruk to go with them. Koruk was concerned, “Do you need me to find someone else to protect you while I’m gone?” Sam looked at him, laughed, patted Koruk’s shoulder, and said “Don’t worry, you wouldn’t be gone long.”


Koruk and the scouts were aboard a ship to Siranda and the trip was not as smooth as he thought it was going to be. The waves were treacherous, tossing the ship like a ragdoll. The ship’s crew, although skilled sea men, did not see waves like this; even they were holding on to ropes for support. Koruk kept a hold of the rope as he felt the water’s cold embrace around his face and shoulders and saw an island through the haze of the sea spray and fog. “Siranda ahead!” yelled a crew member from the crow’s nest. The captain of the ship comes down from the wheel and looks at the group. He runs his fingers through his thick beard before saying in a gruff, yet somber tone “No one from my crew will escort you from the ship. Once you set foot on the docks, we will depart. I need everyone to be safe from these monsters.” Koruk nodded but did not understand just how much danger he will be in. It was a little after dark when the group stepped off the ship and on to the docks. Just like the captain said, the ship started setting sail back. Through the darkness Koruk can make out some form of dilapidated houses, rotting food in old merchant carts, corpses of men, women, and children of different races littering the streets, and zombies roaming around waiting for a warm blooded meal. He follows the scouts in and out of side streets to avoid being seen. He’s not sure if any of them have been here before, but it looks like they know their way around from what he sees through their gestures and signs. “What kind of madness is going on here?” he thought as he quietly walks in and out of corridors with the group. They get to an open courtyard and see only two zombies but they are on the other side of the courtyard. Just as they were going to go into another corrido, in the blackness of night, the group hears a bell chime twelve times. Dark Hour. Koruk and the group stay still and watch the zombies a few meters away acting strange. The zombies seem to stop, straighten up their posture, and look around only to spot Koruk and the scouts. Koruk stiffens up ready to fight, but the zombies start to do something else; they start to run right after them. The group scatters, fearing for their life, and Koruk runs in the dark in a very unfamiliar place. He ducks and zips into random streets and corridors trying to dodge zombies from biting him. Koruk takes a wrong turn in an alley and has a zombie lunge at him mouth wide open ready to bite. In a spit second he grabs the hilt of his great sword, unsheathes the blade, and quickly lobs the zombies head clean off. The zombie twitches on the ground before going limp. Koruk hears moans and screams getting louder as more zombies chase their meal. He needs to find a safe place and fast or else he will become one of them. There, in the distance, he runs to a place that looks safe. Sundered Desolation.