War Lord Akun

War Lord Akun of the Bloodstone Orc Clan is what happens when a mountain decides it’s tired of being scenery and starts lifting weights. He did not inherit leadership. He did not politely campaign for it. He took it—by sheer, unfiltered force of will and an alarming number of broken axes. Akun is twice as muscular as any other male in the clan. Some whisper it’s unnatural. Others whisper it’s terrifying. Most don’t whisper at all because when Akun stares them down, lesser males have been known to tear up, reconsider their life choices, and volunteer for distant scouting missions. His glare alone has settled disputes, ended rebellions, and once caused a visiting war chief to apologize for existing. Akun prides himself on strength, discipline, and the sacred orcish tradition of shouting first and asking questions never. HWhat he does not believe in is weakness. Which brings us to his greatest tragedy. His children. Danu and Crazk, his two sons, are disappointments of heroic proportions. Danu reads. Voluntarily. Crazk once suggested “negotiation” as a strategy. Akun still wakes in a cold sweat over that one. And then there are his daughters: Shami, Delana, and Sue. Shami smiles during battle. Delana befriends enemy scouts. Sue—may the ancestors give him strength—writes poetry about the moon. Akun has attempted to solve this problem in the traditional manner. He has tried, by his own furious count, at least a dozen times to eliminate what he calls “the embarrassment of my bloodline.” They. Won’t. Die. He is convinced it is a curse. A dark hex placed upon him by some vengeful shaman who decided that true suffering is not defeat in battle—but children who refuse to be properly intimidating. Yet despite his rage, his bellowing, and his increasingly elaborate assassination attempts, the five persist. Beneath the roar of the mighty War Lord Akun, you might just hear the faint sound of destiny laughing.