Bruk Targ
Fighter, Champion
Bruk Targ
Species
Half-orc, legacy species
Appearance
Bruk Targ is a broad-shouldered half-orc with a square jaw, blunt lower tusks, and skin the muted gray-green of river stones after rain. His black hair is clipped close except for a dense ridge above his brow, which he trims with a knife when anxious. He moves with the careful economy of someone used to walking beside wagons, always measuring wheels, hooves, and escape routes. His voice is a low rasp with a surprising warmth beneath it, but when rattled he stops breathing between words and speaks in short, dry clicks through his teeth. A small copper kettle hangs from his belt, blackened beneath and polished bright at its handle from years of nervous rubbing. For all his intimidating size, he handles frightened apprentices and injured animals with painstaking gentleness.
“Low, clipped, and rasping, with an unexpectedly careful softness when addressing children, apprentices, or animals. When frightened, he stops breathing between words and releases each sentence through his teeth.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
His lower tusks are capped with thin iron bands, not for intimidation but because a childhood fall cracked both teeth.
He carries a blackened copper kettle whose handle is polished bright by constant nervous rubbing.
His breathing is almost inaudible when calm, but rattles sharply through his nose when someone lies to him.
He has a small habit of touching the left rear corner of every wagon before departure, as if greeting it.
Despite his imposing size, he folds blankets and bandages with the delicate precision of a seamstress.
Voice
“A gravelly baritone with a dry, restrained warmth. His consonants land hard, and when he is angry his words become unnervingly precise.”
Clothing
A dark brown padded coat beneath a battered breastplate, reinforced trousers, mud-stiff boots, fingerless wool gloves, and a gray scarf wrapped twice around his neck. Every buckle is practical, every strap recently repaired, and nothing bears a decorative crest.
Body Language
Bruk keeps his torso angled toward the nearest exit and rests two fingers against the sheath of his knife. He rarely gestures above chest height. When amused, one corner of his mouth lifts while his tusks remain hidden. When genuinely afraid, his shoulders become unnaturally still and his breath catches in three shallow pulls.
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