Brox – Orc Beastmaster

Link to the information about campaign addon: https://www.dmstash.com/product/the-red-autumn-pt-iii-a-wild-hunt/
You will receive a PDF of the campaign when buying the addon. The PDF includes maps, NPCs and other useful information for running the campaign. The addon is optional and you can choose to buy only the miniature if you want.

A 3D printed miniature from DM Stash. It is printed from high quality resin on a high resolution 3D printer with 19x24µm accuracy and will be primed before shipping so that it is ready to paint.

Parts will not be glued on to help painting the miniature easier and to secure transport, normal superglue works fine.

Standard 32mm scale for roleplaying miniatures!
These ones are Medium-sized according to Dungeons & Dragons and Pathfinder scale, it fits on a 25mm diameter base.

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All prints are made to order, cleaned and cured by hand and then primed. We do our best to remove support structures from the objects, some bumps may remain and may need to be filed or sanded.

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Hailing from the Orc colony of Mastania off Belfrie’s coast, Brox lived there as a hunter for many years, until King Trendium saw it necessary to levy Orc soldiers against the forces of Leacianus during the Liturium War. Brox was employed in a special operations unit during the war, forced into dirty work for his unique skillset. It was in the forests of Formen when a Leacianan held a glaive to his throat, that Brox was saved by a wild boar of the woods, whom he came to name Vasgarth. Since that day, Vasgarth has been a loyal companion, and now the two have put the war behind them, finding freelance work within the WEHL to be better suited for their skillset, and conscience.

In the pine-painted forests of Mastania, Brox was raised among a small Orcish tribe. His parents were escapees from Baldur’s slave trade, and Brox was their firstborn child, just over a year after their arrival in their new home. Brox’s father was given a role as a hunter in their society, as they rarely denigrated laborious roles to those who had just tasted freedom for the first time. Brox was thus raised in the same vein, earning his first kill against a doe at just five years of age. The ecstatic adrenaline was overwhelming, and at such a young age, he had found his passion, and aided his father on each and every hunt from then on, learning to skin, and prepare his catches for the tribe’s butchers and cooks. Life continued peacefully in this way until Brox’s passage to adulthood, when soon after a call came to the Tribe that the eldest adult son of each family was to be brought to the island’s sole township of Bohart, the administrative township held by the Belfrie Sovereignty to oversee the island’s development and rule.

There, they were told they would be going to war, at the summons of King Trendium. Brox had never heard of such a King, nor even of the kingdom they would be warring against. Why should he die for a king he never met, against a people he had never heard of? Such questioning saw him disciplined. He soon after learnt the importance of the protection and sanctuary that Belfrie had provided his people, and those around him believed in earnest the least he could do was die for it. Brox was thus shipped out weeks after, within Orc units that comprised nearly entirely of shock infantry, yet Brox protested that he was not versed with a blade, but a bow. On testing such a claim, his commanding officer was surprised to see the young Orc successfully loose an arrow through the neck of a hare some three-hundred yards away, with his apparent hawk-like sight and precise aim immediately apparent. Such skill saw him moved not to a standard archery unit, but special operations.

There he was safer than in the meatgrinders that would be battered by artillery and arcane fire, but the brutality of war he was subjected to was none-less gut-wrenching. Sabotage, ambushes, assassination of high-value targets. Death became a familiar face in the three years of war, never a friend, but a constant reminder that his own mortality was only one mistake away. That promise was eventually realised, when near the war’s end, he was ambushed in the woods by a wounded target he had been tracking for the better part of an hour. With a glaive to his throat, Brox accepted his death had finally come, yet barreling through the woods, a boar with a thunderous charge battered the Leacianan over, giving Brox a chance to slay his attacker. The boar thereafter seemed bound to Brox, not wishing to leave his side. Naming the creature Vasgarth, it followed him until the final days of the war, where it unceremoniously ended while Brox was deployed far from the front.

With the Liturium War now in his past, Brox has joined a contingent of mercenaries more befitting of his skillset, with the World Explorer’s & Hunter’s League. There he and Vasgarth have served since their retirement from Belfrie’s army, sending whatever fortune he makes back to Mastania, to support and enrich the lives of his parents and tribe. Knowing his duty is now bound to family, rather than nation, he finds pride in his work, and knows ultimately Tharador is a better place for the deeds he does there, compared to the evil he was forced to commit in the name of a king during wartime.