The Ugly Ones

Originally deemed as half-trolls by the elves, and now known as the Durhathra — “Ugly-born” — they lived in the swelling hills that remained of the cursed realm after the rising of the sea.

They allied neither with elves, nor dwarves, nor men in the wars that followed the arrival of the elf-kin, and so were shunned by all.

A hardy people by nature, life on the fringes of a world that despises them has made them harder still. Compared to the grain-fed slaves of the elves, they are broad of chest, stocky of build, and stronger than most men.

Some claim they do not feel pain, for they are known to shrug off wounds that would cripple others. Yet they have been heard to scream in agony when cut or stabbed, casting doubt on the tale.

Considered less intelligent than men, the elves scorn them as unfit for slavery. Still, a few desperate elves have tried to build villages using them as a base, with little success. Employed only for the harshest tasks, and driven by the lash, they can still prove useful.

Even when left alone, they have never achieved anything that might impress an elf.

They live in small tribal bands on the borders of other realms. Hunted on all sides, they have been forced into a nomadic existence. Their numbers are few, for the realm’s curse touches them as much as any. Their women fight beside the men, and some have been seen on the battlefield with infants swaddled at their breast.

The Durhathra speak a secret tongue, shrill and harsh to the ear, unintelligible to outsiders. They dress in skins, wear crude bone ornaments, and wield weapons of the same. Their bodies are scarred in ritual patterns and painted with ocher. What faith they hold is uncertain; they rejected the elves’ teachings and spurn the sacraments of the Lord of Lords, though they seem to fear him greatly.

It is said they gather at hidden sacred places to trade, find mates, and mock elves for vanity and men for frailty. Rumor tells of a giant in black robes appearing at such rites, though to what purpose none can say.

They do not bury their dead in these places, lest strangers find them. Instead, they consume the flesh of the fallen, claiming to carry their kin within them wherever they are driven.

The Durhathra live by hunting, but often hire themselves as mercenaries. They are fierce fighters but lack discipline, impossible to shape into a true army. Yet under a gifted commander, their savagery can be put to great use.

Another service sought from them is breeding. Many slavers and elven lords hunt them for this purpose, though some find it easier to bargain. It is a grim fate for the maidens chosen by the Ledger King to mate with these half-trolls, for they are despised by their kin and marked with shame. Yet their offspring—used for further breeding or raised as Karukal, warriors of their lord—still bear the curse of the name “half-troll.” Many believe the Durhathra are themselves descended from maidens taken by trolls in ages past.

Few among them live happy lives. Yet rumors now spread of great bands gathering on the northwestern coast, falling upon villages already weakened by sea raiders. There they exact a terrible vengeance upon those who despised and mistreated them.