Ghar'akkaarn is primarily a verdant jungle teeming with life both harmless and hazardous. The jungle land slopes upward toward a mountain range which starts in the west and ends in the centre of the realm. A vast waterfall flows from a cave high in the central range forming a large lake which feeds several rivers snaking throughout the jungles.

The main village of Bhar'thelok'mar (translation:Old birthplace of the people) is located around the central lake. It has the largest population and is therefore the tribe which usually wins in power struggles. From the village is a path which leads up the mountain range to a large cavern which Ghar'rokk calls home.

The northern section of the realm which is now nothing more than a blasted wasteland devoid of life, where it seems even the river which flowed through this area no longer wants to flow. None of the inhabitants go anywhere near this section of land anymore, as even Ghar'rokk himself is wary of this devastated land.

The Akka'mar are a savage and wild people quite the equal of their lord. They live off the land and are constantly fighting amongst themselves whenever their attention isn't focussed on another task. There are many different tribes of these people, as the Akka'mar are extremley numerous. The reason they are so numerous is because each one of these people stands only about 3'3" at their tallest. Compared to the various beasts which call the realm home, the Akka'mar folk are actually considered the vermin of the eco-system. It is said that their small size forced them to learn how to use tools and advance in culture and technology in order to survive in the savage environment of Ghar'akkaarn.

However it is their savage nature, brutal infighting and taste for cannibalism that caused Ghar'rokk to turn his favour to them. Ancient stories tell of how Ghar'rokk helped the Akka'mar develop and protected them from the vicious predators which fed on them, however it is unknown how much of these stories is true. The Akka'mar follow every word Ghar'rokk tells them, possibly because he acts in a way which they associate with, or the fact that he is four times the size of their tallest warriors.

Ghar'rokk emerged from the cavern high in the mountains and surveys his realm. He sniffs the air and catches the scent of the land. The fragrance of the plants, the distinct scent of each creature living here ,the smells from the villages dotted around the realm. His eyes focus on the visible sources of some of the scents, before sweeping the horizon and lingering on the north.

Lowering his gaze he breathed deeply and let loose a powerful roar, which echoed across the kingdom. The trees released panicked flocks of birds of various size and colouration. The realm knows his dominance. He sniffed the air one last time before looking down toward a certain section of the forest. The target of his hunt.

He hopes the beast will provide some sort of challenge. Deep down, he knows it will not. Without any further hesitation he begins his descent down the mountain.

Ghar'rokk was filled with pride at his own battle prowess, strength and quickness and endurance. He was almost the perfect warrior, and as he crashed down the mountain stones, small spine-creatures and jungle-snakes alike fleeing from his massive bulk. Soon he was within the verdant greens, oranges, reds and blues of the jungle - of a jungle filled with barbs and fangs and claws and poisons and sands that killed silently and without remorse.

He could feel his quarry, perhaps the only reason he had manifested within this reality, ahead of him. It was fearful of him and he could smell its fear.

Ghar'rokk stalked through the undergrowth of the jungle toward his prey. Within minutes he could see the beast, and he was pleased at the sight of it. The creature was a powerful male Sha'khar, one of the most lethal hunters within the jungle, a quadrupedal beast whose shoulders measured its height at roughly 8 feet. Its body was well muscled yet smooth because of its dark pelt. Its deadly fangs and claws allowed it to easily tear apart most prey with relative ease.

To most the concept of fighting this beast would be suicide, so fearsome was its appearance. Ghar'rokk had no such fear. He would not use a weapon against such a proud creature, not that he needed one anyway. At this moment the Sa'khar was not a hunter, but the prey. The beast was feasting on the corpse of another jungle dweller, a fresh kill that this magnificent hunter had claimed. This was an advantage for Ghar'rokk. The fresh blood would mask his scent and allow him to get closer before making a move. Ghar'rokk moved slowly and cautiously to avoid giving away his position to the beast.

Ghar'rokk moved into position on the beasts right side, only a couple of meters away from it. He braced his legs in preparation and then without any further delay, he roared and charged into its side, tackling the creature to the ground before it could even react. It leapt up quickly, fear showing in its eyes as it slashed at Ghar'rokk with it blade like claws. Ghar'rokk stepped back to avoid them easily. The Sha'khar snarled and leapt forward through the air toward Ghar'rokk, attempting to bite his neck. However Ghar'rokk was prepared, and he caught the beasts head and neck with his powerful arms.

The beast raked its claws at Ghar'rokk, but the damage caused was of of no threat. With one powerful movement Ghar'rokk snapped the beasts neck. He smiled to himself before roaring his victory. This beast would make a fine meal and trophy, but before anything else he had a task to perform. With great care and reverence, he removed the heart of the Sha'khar, which he then began to eat. It's strength was his now, and its spirit would live on to hunt again with him.

After performing the ritual, Ghar'rokk lifted the body of the Sha'khar and its meal over his shoulders and set off toward his lair.

(Ghar'rokk, while I love the below post - I will admit I squirmed a little at the thought of your character eating the heart - the usual system Theogenesis uses for roleplaying is that you take control of your character and associated powers and I take command of everything else - the environment, scary monsters, NPCs, etc. Sorry if that was unclear, and no worries as to the below post - we'll keep it, I really should make these things clear. :) You're doing more than fine, though, man, and I'm already starting to fear Ghar'rokk.)

The heart eaten, Ghar felt a surge of pride and power ripple through his rugged body. The jungles about him were silent - even the insects were fearful of his battle prowess. The air was sweet with the smell of spilled blood mingled with the toxin-blooming pollen of the jungle flora. The broken corpse of the Sa'khar wasn't at all heavy, but still Ghar felt uncertain with the carrying of it - as if his hunt had only just begun. There was something in the jungle, something dark and ferocious, and Ghar felt it watch him from afar. Southward, further into the depths of the jungle, it waited.

The feeling was not one that Ghar'rokk was used to you. It was not the feeling of fear, for Ghar'rokk had yet to encounter anything to be afraid of. However the presence coming from deeper within the jungle was definitely making him feel uneasy, and Ghar'rokk was not used to feeling uneasy.

However it mattered little. Whatever this presence was seemed to be a threat to his dominance and Ghar'rokk would not simply leave such a threat alive and wandering around his kingdom. Wasting no time he began moving through the jungle towards the south.

The flowers at the sunnier south turned a deeper shade of red. The trees were broader, heavier, darker. The dirt beneath Ghar's feet became grittier, sandier. It was warmer, south..

Ghar knew it would not be long before he came upon his quarry. He could feel it. Almost taste the bloodshed..

The warmer southern air and the differing environment filled Ghar with confidence. His quarry was so close now. Whatever his threat was he would soon deal with it. He quickened his pace and moved forward without hesitation. He flexed his hands in anticipation for the battle ahead.

Ghar came upon it silently. It was truly a huge thing, the size of a small hill, with a hundred thousand prickly thorns on its back, like the porcupine-rat that existed in some parts of his jungles. It had three large, unwavering eyes, and more than a dozen drooling mouths. It possessed an four massive legs, each supported by wickedly barbed and clawed feet. Its tail was long, and fanned at the end, becoming six or seven tails, each with the sting of the scorpion attached to the end.

He had never seen a beast so beautiful or so deadly.

Ghar'rokk looked upon the creature and became frustrated. There was no way he could see to take this creature on with his bare hands. He decided that he would only use his knife however, in order to give the creature some sort of fighting chance. He studied the creature in order to work out the best way to kill it.

Within moments he had decided the best course of action. He lunged toward the creature while roaring a challenge, his attack aimed directly at its eyes.

Ghar'rokk threw himself at the creature, lunging towards its vital eyes, and felt satisfaction as the sharp knife stabbed viciously into the eye of the beast. The beast opened its mouth in a piercing wail,  and all three eyes of the creature exploded in a gush of yellow-black liquid that consumed Ghar'rokk. He fell to the ground, sticky and burning horribly - the yellow goop was some sort of irritant that at once burnt and made his skin incredibly itchy. The beast continued to wail, and stare at Ghar'rokk hauntingly with its empty eye-sockets.

Enduring the pain from the creatures acidic secretion, Ghar'rokk stood directly in front of the creature in challenge. He needed to think of a way to take this beast out quickly, before the yellow goo got the better of him. He hesitated for only a moment, and then plunged his knife deep into the hole where the beasts eyes had once been in a powerful strike.
He needed to strike he creatures brain and end it life now. It was the only way this fight would end.

Ghar felt the blade dig deep into the eye-socket of the horned beast, felt the rush of acidic blood burn his arm like crazy. While the beasts screamed and howled in agony, and Ghar burned with fury, he did not feel the connect - he had not struck the brain. The socket went further.. he would need to carve his way in and slash at the brain itself if he was to succeed. The stench of rancid meat consumed him.

The socket was easily large enough for this purpose.

Roaring with great fury from a combination of the burning and the frustration that the beast was not yet dead, Ghar'rokk began to hack furiously in order to open the eye socket further so that he could climb in and locate the creatures brain. More and more of the beasts acidic fluids covered him, but his enjoyment of the sheer brutal fury he was unleashing allowed him to endure the pain.

Ghar'rokk became so overwhelmed by his emotion that at some point he dropped his knife and simply began to tear his way through the tissue with his bare hands. He lost all track of time as he revelled in the brutality of his actions, but he eventually reached the creatures brain. Upon seeing it he grabbed it with both hands and began to tear it out forcefully.

Ghar was striking deep within the beast. He burned all over - his skin was alive with the fire of pain. He choked on the gore, the blood, the acids and the pus caught within the creature. Still he fought. Tearing, clawing, slashing, he fell deeper and deeper within the beast. He had been blinded with rage, and it was only when the screaming stopped and Ghar felt the beast collapse that he realised he must have destroyed the brain.

Now - to hack himself out, and possibly to wash. His nostrils were consumed by the stench of damaged flesh.

Still fuelled by rage Ghar twisted around and tore his way back out through the beast. After some time he managed to crawl out from the creatures insides. Once in the fresh air he roared in triumph at his victory. It was only after this that his rage subsided and he realised what had happened. The burning pain increased as he calmed down and he realised he needed to find some water in order to wash the gore away.

He listened for a few moments to try and pinpoint the sound of water. His hearing picked up the sound of water from a direction. Before setting off he took one last look at the beast, realising he would have to come back to collect some trophies of the kill. A thought also crossed his mind. Why didn't the beast fight back? He did not doubt that he still would have been victorious, but it seemed strange that he won so easily. He shook the thought from his head and set off in the direction of the water.

Leaving the broken corpse of the wailing beast long behind him, Ghar'rokk soon found himself at a large, fast-running river. His skin burned all over and he could see blisters forming slowly. The river itself was obscured by clinging, red ivy, though the water looked to be a deep purple in colour. The edge of the stream was soft and covered with small spikes, tiny enough not to bother Ghar'rokk.

Ghar'rokk pushed his way through the ivy and over the spikes and began to wade into the water. He knew that the water would not heal the blisters but they would heal in time. He washed himself to rid the excess gore, and enjoyed the refreshing feeling of the water, which soothed his damaged skin. After the wash he drank from the river before looking around. The surrounds were peaceful.

He gathered his bearings and knew that if he returned to the river after collecting his trophies form the fallen beast, he could head upstream to return to the source. However he decided that the beast was not going anywhere, and decided to enjoy the river for a little while longer.

At once the river was peaceful, calming. Ghar'rokk felt himself relax, felt the sticky, burning gore be washed away. He felt all of this, and then.. he could not feel his legs.

His legs were numb.

(OOC: I am unsure of how numb you mean, so I am going with this and allowing your next move to provide some answers)

Ghar'rokk looked around in an attempt to see what could have caused his legs to numb, but was still unsure of the cause. However he did ascertain that there were no threats nearby, so he attempted to move his legs and exit the water.

(As in, you can't feel them at all - as if they've been anesthetized. Sorry about the lack of clarity.)

Ghar'rokk couldn't quite see what was causing the lack of feeling in his legs - the water itself was entirely red, filled with the clinging ivy which occulted most of which lay below. When he tried to move, he stumbled, and fell into the river. Immediately, he felt tingling all over his body - the beginning of numbness.

He could taste blood, and was intelligent enough to know that it was his.

There was something in the water.

Ghar'rokk roared in frustration from his own foolishness. He should have checked more thoroughly before getting into the water. He reached out quickly to try and see if he could grab anything so that he could haul his body out of the river.

He struggled, took in only water. The feeling of senselessness continued to spread around his body, growing slowly in intensiveness. He could grasp only the red-weed of the river, and could feel something trying to drag him further down - though he could not, of course, actually feel anything in his legs.

Gasping for air and attempting fill his lungs, Ghar felt the sensation of being dragged below the water. He prepared himself, hoping that he could hold his breath for long enough to see his attacker, so he could lash out at it. For the first time, Ghar'rokk felt a small amount of fear.

(Fear? Excellent.)

Again, Ghar was dragged deep into the surging waters. A rush of white and blue and the ever-present red of the river-weed and his own blood, and then he could see clearly..

A creeping, green-black thing with bladed leaves. If the plant-demon had a face, Ghar knew it would be grinning sinisterly. The things lived on the bottom of the rivers, feeding on those stupid enough to enter their territory. Ghar felt a tightness in his chest and knew he couldn't hold on much longer..

Pushing his fear away, Ghar'rokk focussed his gaze and prepared his body. He could feel the pressure within his chest building. He only had one chance. Staring at the plant-demon Ghar'rokk roared with all his might, showing the dominance he bore within the realm, and instilling the fear into the creature that all creatures of his domain should fear.

There was a vicious struggle, but even under the rushing water Ghar'rokk heard the roar flow from his lungs, loud and clear. He was master of this place, and he would not be challenged in this way. The vine-creature let go, slinking deep within the rocks, and Ghar'rokk -

- felt the world go black, felt himself be washed away down the river -

And awoke, sometime later, sore and lightheaded on one of the soft sandy edges of the river. He sat up involuntarily, coughing water, and choked for a good couple of minutes before he regained his composure.

But he was alive.

Ghar'rokk decided to move away from the rivers edge, and then decided to rest for a a short while on the grass, in order to fully regain his composure. He inwardly reflected upon his foolishness, cursing himself for blundering right into such a dangerous situation. He would remember in the future to check first before acting. It was after all one of the rules of the wild.

After a short while regaining his stamina, Ghar'rokk decided it would be a good idea to return to his lair in order to clean and rest properly. He knew that if he followed the river in the opposite direction of its flow he would reach the source, which his lair was not far from. Lifting himself off the ground and keeping him self in a state of awareness, he began to move through the jungle, following the rivers course.

The trek was long, but the jungle was relatively quiet. Nothing made a particularly aggressive attack against Ghar'rokk - he had proved, at least for now, that he was the champion of this place, the true ruler. His lair was cool and cramped, a cave carved into the bleak rock, but it, too, was safe. Ghar was exhausted. He needed rest if he was going to continue.

Although he was exhausted, Ghar'rokk also was filled with elation that he had proven his dominance of the land. Before entering his lair, he looked out across the land and let loose a roar, just to reinforce his power, before finding a comfortable place to lay down and rest.

Flat stone covered by non-toxic moss was as comfortable as it got in the cave.

The jungle seemed to roar back its loyalty at the summoning of Ghar'rokk's own divinity.

After his rest, Ghar'rokk emerged from his lair feeling energised. Nothing in his land could beat him, no matter how big, or how sneaky they were. He needed a challenge, or something to take his mind away from his dominance. He set off in the direction of the lake at the base of his mountain lair, as he was thirsty and still felt he could use a better wash, free of beasts trying, and failing, to kill him.

The water of the lake moved swiftly and was covered in hundreds of red flowers. Beneath the flowers, Ghar could see large fish swimming peacefully - the water was very clear and shined beautifully in the sun. To his knowledge, the lake was safe (enough) and to his touch the waters were refreshingly cool compared to the humid heat of the day.

Ghar'rokk waded slowly into the cool water. He moved cautiously, although he would never admit to any being that he was worried. He washed with the water, and once he felt that it was truly safe, he started to swim out toward the centre, enjoying the time spent within the water.

The water was safe enough. The blooming water-lillies, which Ghar knew were poisonous, did not release their toxins in his presence. The fish avoided his gaze. The water-vines acted entirely as water-vines should - slowly, without any sudden movements. Ghar felt more than his energy be recovered in the water. It was a good place to be in this time.