The spelling is British English- apologise in advance.


‘I… live.’

A green-skinned, broad and strongly built figure stumbled through a plume of steam, it’s steps heavy.

‘Giants… 12 of them. I got them. Incinerated a few, crushed a few, wrestled one.’

It’s head buzzed with pain.

‘One of them… smashed me right in the back of the skull… fat bastard. Oh, but I got ‘im. Got him goo-’

Hitting his foot on something, he fell to the ground. 

Slowly, he brought his hands to his chest and lifted himself upward on his knees, bringing one leg forward, before using it as a push himself back on his feet. He looked back to see what he stumbled on, but his vision was hazy and blurry.

He brought himself closer.

‘My… hammer.’

 Picking up the warhammer, the Orc began using it as a walking stick.

‘Meat. Somewhere… here.’

Using his hammer, he managed to come across a giant corpse and began eating it.

After a few mouthful bites, his wounds began to heal. He walked a good distance away from the site of combat, finding a large tree to rest his back onr.

He jolted forward. The clang of steel and the whistling of arrows swirled around him.

Cries of ‘Victory or Sovengarde!’ and ‘For the Emperor! FOr the Empire’ filled the air.

Before he could grasp the situation, they were already on him.

‘Who is this? One of the Stormcloaks?’

‘Not by the looks of it.’

‘So what are we going to do with him?’

‘Through him with the rest of ‘em. Tullius was adamant that we take as many prisoners as possible.’

Two soldiers arrived to lift Magrog, the Orc.

‘By the Eight!’ One of them said, out of breath.

‘We’re going to need help. This… thing weighs more than Varro’s mother.

More blurry soldiers come into view, but their voices become muddy, as if speaking underwater.

Dark… dark… then all is black.

With great effort, Magrog opens his eyes. He’s on a wagon. Hands are tied. A man in a black fur cloak to his right, two men in front of him- one wears a blue-clothed armour the other in rags.

‘Hey… you. You’re finally awake.’



Race: Orc. You're going to need the racial ability and it's aesthetically fitting.

Stats: Stamina: 1/ Health: 1/ Magicka: 1.

Standing Stone: Mage -> Atronach.

Archetype: Barbarian- Spellsword- Agile (Light Armour) Sorcerer




I’d like to imagine that as Magrog rebuilds his strength and confidence, he reveals more of his body, like the world’s strongest stripp- I mean, ‘great warrior.’

Longhammer’s going to take you a while to get because of how densely the Falmer populate  Liar's Retreat. In the meantime, you may freely use and enchant what comes your way.


Major Skills:

  • Two-handed- you're main close combat skill.
  • Enchanting- for enchanting armour, primarily.
  • Destruction- primary long range skill.


Minor Skills:

  • Block- for utility.
  • Light Armour- for protection and stamina regeneration.



I’ve never been able to single out mages and archers in battle. By the time I reach them, I would've already taken a handful of devastating arrows, a few cuts and bruises from blade and blunt wielding bandits, and a healthy dose of fireballs. Even if the archer or mage fell from the first blow, I’d turn around to find a group of bandits huddling together and staring at me like I’m the camera to their family photo. 

Become Ethereal may allow me to bypass the initial onslaught, but then what? I’d still have four fearsome looking opponents looking at me like: ‘You done fucked up tonight.’

So, as if I haven’t forsaken enough tradition, I’d advise against singling out archers and mages. Rather, fight in an open space and keep moving. Bounce from one melee opponent to the next- break their rhythm and keep them apart. Or use the environment to your advantage; take ‘cover’ behind a wall and lure your enemies to you or hop between covers. 

Look for choke points to negate the numbers of your enemies- if you have the mana for it, plop down a ‘Wall of Flame’ to burn your current opponent while ‘simmering’ the ones behind them. Couple this with a dual-cast Flame Cloak and you can create quite the inferno. It may be mana intensive, but it is worth it. Plus, I like to role-play that Mr. Oni likes his meat well done.

Once all melee opponents have been neutralised, you can pick out the archers with the Fireball spell, or you could ‘Become Ethereal’ your way to a mage or two, before changing to long range combat. Personally, I go for the mages first as they cause too much visual and noise pollution, also they have this strange habit of charging at you, for some reason. Once the mages are gone, archer’s stop being a threat, since I can pick them off easily and without the added.

In the early levels, combat will be like that discussed earlier, except with less ‘pazazz,’ if you will.

I only have one combo for this build: The Longerhammer + Elemental Fury + Berserker Rage. You can only use it once a day, but GOD DAMN.  



‘They think I’m evil ‘cause of all the fire and the horns. But I’m not. I revel in fear- in feeling it- in the excitement of danger, and in that little electric shock that zaps you when you realise that you’ve entered a situation where your survival isn’t assured- that’s why I love the Reach so much… Oh! And the hammer- that freaks them OUT, let me tell you.’   

Magrog’s one hell of an adrenaline junky who hates staying still, and equally hates long walks on the shore of the Sea of Ghosts. He’s always on the move- new enemies, new dangers and new challenges. The Reach’s, with its endless dangers, create his most favoured environment. Really, the only thing that can cause him to sit still is reading, but that doesn’t last long since he can digest books very quickly.

Onis aren’t necessarily evil (and so is Magrog), but they are consistently chaotic, even when they’re ‘helping,’  and are fearsome either in appearance or in ability. So, there’s no need to be needlessly rude, and evil, and  ‘haha, murder, haha’ type character. When encountering strangers, be normal at first, then judge whether their job is fun enough to take up. If it’s not fun, you may consider *lovingly* bashing their head in for being boring. Not ‘too’ boring, just boring. Or you could leave them alone. Up to you. 

There’s no fun in fighting the weak, defenceless, infirm or disabled. You’ll be leaving them alone, even if they’re bandits like ol’ Ulfr the Blind.


‘But I guess they’re slightly- slightly I saw- correct. When I was young and deathly sick, the wise woman saw no other option than to feed me a heart… and it worked. I felt stronger. A lot stronger. A rush of pure energy. If you felt it, you’d do it too.’

Hey, what you know, he’s a cannibal. Sucks… but the buffs are nice.


‘You know, I once met this nicely-groomed shitstain who felt the need to come right up to me and rudely ask me what I was doing. “Reading.” I gruffly replied. “Ha! Applying to Winterhold, are we?” My head was pulsating with anger, and a bit of fear. I was in a tavern filled with Nords and this idiot was Maven Black-Briar’s eldest son. But it was too late for reasoning. In a few seconds, the bar became a whirlwind- trays, food, and chairs started to fly from one end to the other, shouts were cried out, and bodies started dropping. I accidently killed poor Indaryn, the Dunmer brewmaster- but it wasn’t my fault! That mer just appeared before- out of no-where! What? Am I supposed to redirect my punch to my own face? His fault- not mine.’

Magrog spent his whole childhood bedridden and sickly, constantly hearing not-so-quiet whispers of his possible impending death. With all other escapes cut off, he threw himself into a vigorous reading routine. 

From dawn till deep in the night he’d read, stopping once in the middle of the day to eat what he could, before returning to his books. So intense were his eyes that he appeared to be trying to remember the whole book, but only had one chance to look at it.

That habit only strengthened as he grew older, and was soon reading up to two books a day. He also managed to teach himself Dragon’s speech.

Consequently, Magrog is very well read, intelligent and a natural wizard, which aligns quite well with his birthstone: the mage. But, he's reached such a high level of reading that it’s no longer a challenge, which is why he seeks physical adventure.


‘The bear who can swim is more feared and dangerous than the bear who can’t.’

Ostracised because of his mixing of magic and strength, Magrog was seen as being too physically weak, unable to completely rely on his brawn. Naturally, Magrog shuns those who rely too heavily on just one fighting style (whether it be a warrior who focuses on their strength, a mage on their intelligence, or a thief on their cunning) and prefers- even admires- those with the dynamic abilities.


‘But why do you care? You’re just a severed head! HA!’

In the end, Magrog isn’t the most stable Orc out there and his reactions may be a little… inappropriate when compared to the size of the agitation. Like blasting Nazeem off of the steps to Dragonsreach, or incerating a few Riften guards when they tried to shake him down for a few coins, or his bad habit of pummeling his opponent to death when it’s supposed to be a ‘friendly’ brawl. But hey, can’t make an omelette with cracking a few Altmer heads




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  • Great work Ramses, nice Frog ronin pic

    • Thank you, Chris. I call the frog Henry.


      • Neat. But yeah, nice work with the Oni

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