Early Life, Born in to Slavery
The Thunderfoot clan was forced to surrender to an ever growing presence of evil in their land, the orc. This brutish clan planned to enslave, breed, and train the minotaur for use as siege weapons in their never ending quest for destruction in the name of Gruumsh. Some of the Thunderfoot were complacent, while others peacefully protested. This opposition meant death for many of Borrus’ family, including his father. His mother raised him and his brother Errand for six years before she was killed by a violent brute named Terrast. Terrast is a minotaur, who had long ago given in to his primal urges. He led the minotaur army for the orcs and was a savage trainer. He had a spiked iron ball in place of a hand, perhaps an old battle wound.
Life Changing Event
By the age of 14 and 15, Borrus and Errand (respectively) were the greatest soldiers in the training camp. They each had a strong relationship with Terrast, but this was all a farce. Errand and Borrus never forgot their mother’s face. They secretly banded together the enslaved creatures in an effort to escape from such brutality. Allthough they were fierce on the battlefield, they meditated and prayed to Melora daily in an effort to stay their violent impulses. Unfortunately, Terrast received word of this hidden plot and in a fit of rage confronted both and challenged them to take him down. Though they could have easily overcome the aging minotaur, it was Errand who held his brother back and insisted he not give in to the bloodlust that the Thunderfoot clan had long subdued. Terrast unleashed a trove of jotun-speak that would make even a hill giant quiver. As the situation escalated, Errand turned, grabbed Borrus by both horns and said, “No matter what happens. Never forget the pact with Melora:”
“Under the stars, until the end
Forever we harness the beast within.”
At that instant, Borrus was calm. He could see the calmness in Errands eyes. Errand turned around and faced the beast. Terrast lifted his iron fist high in the air. The Thunderfoot clan did not tremble. They stood peacefully and waited for their end. And it was then, Borrus heard the crack. It was all too fast. Errand was on the ground writhing in pain. Terrast let out a deep laugh from his belly and raised his arm again, this time towards Borrus. “You mistake the passive actions of a dead clan as power. We are born of Baphomet. Accept your destiny, swine.” Suddenly, through the scale armor on Terrast’s chest emerged the end of a broadsword, just as quickly as it disappeared. Then again, in and out. It happened several times before Terrast’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he collapsed on to himself. Behind him, heaving for air, was Errand. He stood slumped, his blade covered in crimson. As Errand gazed at the corpse of the fallen minotaur, Borrus noticed his right horn was pouring out blood. Split longways, right down the middle. Errand let out a slow moan that turned to a roar as he lifted his head to meet his brother’s gaze. Errand’s eyes were red. Blood red. It is a madness that elder minotaur speak of to teach the young ones about the horn. For a moment, Errand’s moaning stopped. He said but one word to his brother. “Run.”
We catch up with Borrus in the town of Fallcrest after besting some Orcs and saving an important supply caravan for the city. On the way he joins a band of adventurers, and appoints Ivan the Cleric as their leader. Though he is not yet sure he can trust the group with his past or present mission, he hopes they come across the ruins of Saruun Khel. He seeks knowledge of his ancestors to harness his primal power. He also aims to eradicate every slaver in the Nentir Vale.