Family History
Sir Ridthick
Lived in Era 31, got 1 heir(s) (Trogdar Liech) and was a member of Flamers United
Well, I suppose I should tell the tale of Ridthick, and his call to glory that was cut so hastially short...
His father, an Elf, raised the bastard troll-boy from his young age. His father was a GLORIOUS Leader, powerful, and a billionaire... Earning Ridthick the honor of his fathers name...
He was a powerful boy, and soon to gain himself an army of followers... Dwarves, and Halflings...
The Troll, he was a warmonger, stealing his food, and plundering what he could. But, when he encountered the steel cladded knights of High Lord Knock Out, he was soon to meet an end...
He was powerful, one of the GREATEST they say, and people still bark and talk and proclaim to his rush of power, but the man was a drunken fool! He let his army camp, outside the city, so they had more room for the tents... While asleep in a drunken daze, the knights of High Lord Knock Out, snuck past the army, and took the Armory/City behind.. this was the ultimate fall, the rear of the empire was not defended!, everything was resting on the all-powerful might of Sir Ridthick!... and he failed. Then, in a rampage of anger when he saw the sight of his homeland burning on the horizion, he attacked seeking revenge.
Without a home, his followers began to stray, and in a desperate futile attempt he pushed an attack on the High Lord's capital...
The battle did not go well, it is unknown what exactly went down in the fight, but reports came in, that only two hostile men perished... It was a darwinian moment, and failure.
He only fathered one child, Trogdar Liech, who's history is soon to be made...
Sir Trogdar Liech
Lived in Era 31, got 1 heir(s) (Ridthick Liech) and was a member of Frumentarii
Ruthless and Barbaric, this Orc champion became the Military Vice in command of Royal Order of Claidhmore...
He led MANY battles to victory, decimated many opponents, The Black Chain, FURY, BS, The White Wolves, and many others.
His armies of Nazguls flew hard and stright, their spears coated and dripping with fresh blood.
The men of his armies never complained about the fight, they loved the fight. As with their commander, the blood in their veins was cold as ice... and when wartime began, it pumped by every beat of their frozen hearts.
Relentless and cruel, nobody on Zetamania was safe.
He commanded and ruled with an iron fist.