Garzhvog, the Breaker

Finding a valiant death in combat is difficult for someone of Garzhvog's size and skill.


Basic Info

  • Name: Garzhvog
  • Level: 2
  • Class: Barbarian
  • Race: Goliath
  • Size: M
  • Age: 25
  • Gender: M
  • Height: 7’8"
  • Weight: 325 lbs
  • Alignment: ??
  • Deity: Unaligned

Ability Scores

  • Str: 18
  • Con: 12
  • Dex: 12
  • Int: 10
  • Wis: 10
  • Cha: 16


  • AC: 15
  • Fort: 17
  • Ref: 13
  • Will: 15

Hit Points

  • HP: 33
  • Bloodied: 16
  • Surge Val: 8
  • Surges/Day: 10


  • Acrobatics: 2
  • Arcana: 1
  • Athletics: 12
  • Bluff: 4
  • Diplomacy: 4
  • Dungeoneering: 1
  • Endurance: 7
  • Heal: 1
  • History: 1
  • Insight: 1
  • Intimidate: 4
  • Nature: 3
  • Perception: 6
  • Religion: 1
  • Stealth: 10
  • Streetwise: 4
  • Thievery: 2

Other Stats

  • Initiative: 2
  • Speed: 6
  • Languages: Common, Giant
  • Vision: Normal

Racial Features

  • Mountain’s Tenacity
  • Powerful Athlete
  • Stone’s Endurance

Class Features

  • Barbarian Agility
  • Rage Strike
  • Rampage
  • Feral Might: Thaneborn


  • Goliath Greatweapon Prowess
  • Markings of the Blessed



  • Pressing Strike
  • Devistating Strike


  • Roar of Triumph
  • Vault of the Fallen’


  • Macetail Rage


  • Stonebreaker (Enc.)


  • Heavy Flail
  • Throwing Hammer
  • Leather Armor
  • Standard Adventurer’s Kit

Magic Items

  • +1 Bloodcut Hide Armor

We were once peaceful. We once had our honor. We once had a place to call home. No longer. We live wherever we can, we barely have our freedom, and we now must fight to survive. And fight we shall.

My tribe lived alone in the mountains. We trained and fought for the love of battle, but never sought unnecessary wars. I was the goliath’s champion; no one could best me in combat. Except the ogres. Without warning they appeared on the shore and were out for blood. Those dumb brutes make me look like a scholar, but there’s no amount of outwitting will help take down someone 4 times your size. We fought valiantly, but we failed. The survivors were taken as slaves, forced to mine the mountains we once called home. The sounds of chains became as natural to us as breathing, but we never ceased to long for freedom.

What little we could understand from the ogres is that someone was forcing their hand. We don’t know what they wanted with our island, but it wasn’t their final goal. Whoever was pulling the strings stayed out of sight, which worries me more. Who could have this much influence over this many ogres, and who else could be under their spell?

One day in the mines, I discovered a type of rock harder and heavier than any I have ever seen before. Pulling one high over my head, I broke my chains in one stroke. Too deep in the mines for the ogres to notice, I used my tool to free my brethren. Not one goliath from that cave returned to the ogres that day. But we still had work to be done.

By the cover of night, we carried out our mission. We split up amongst the camps to free as many of the goliath as possible. Before the ogres had time to organize, we took two small ships and sailed off our homeland. Not every goliath made it off of the island. We rode off in silence out of respect for our fallen, and we vowed to reclaim our homeland.

We knew of a small island to our east that legend says our ancestors rode out a storm that lasted a fortnight. It fortunately provided us a safe haven as well. A hidden and protected entrance allowed what was left of our tribe to stay safe and unseen, but this would not last. We needed to get help.

Two of us left on the ships, each heading in opposite directions to find someone who could give us assistance. I knew of the Northern Alliance; their mighty ships and powerful armies would be enough to make short work of the ogres. Hopefully they would find this growing army to the south a big enough threat to deal with. I rowed and rowed, not resting until I reached the island. Once I reached the island, I passed out on the shore from exhaustion.

I awoke to a crowd of human children poking me and staring with their jaws agape. Apparently goliaths don’t live on this island. Starving and sore, I stumble into the Bristlebrew Inn. I tell Bristlebrew of my plight, and his heart is moved. He feeds me (much less than I would have liked) and loaned me his largest horse and some rations to make it to Stronghold Keep. I left as soon as I finished my meal.

After a few days journey, I reached the keep. I ask to speak to someone who could help my people. The shuddering gatesmen let me through to the captain of the guard. I spoke to him about my people and our dire situation, and he kept going on and on about protocol and due process. My temper rose as he completely dismissive of our plight, and I pushed him aside to reach the inside of the keep. Nobles in fancy clothes jumped out of their skin as I burst through the door and 10 puny guards detained me and threw me out of the keep, slamming the gate behind me. I punched the gate until my fists bled. I left the city worse than I came, no closer to helping my people.

I made it back to the Inn. I had little hope to finding an end to my quest. After several rounds Bristlebrew told me of Elik Reef, a local legend. He knew Elik was coming in town, and if anyone could help me, it was him. If there is any chance of him being able to help, I must find him.

Garzhvog, the Breaker

Helena, Daughter of Melora eraymix