Monday Mysteries – Samuel Orc Jackson

Samuel Orc Jackson – Level 10 Knight of the Order Oath of Vengeance Orc Paladin


Samuel Orc Jackson, son of Yokgagu and Sharog, was different from his siblings. Originally named Smegugh, he wanted to talk things out, instead of resorting immediately to violence. He spent time with the elders, understanding the broader lessons from Grumuush and King Obould I Many-Arrows, and learning from the world around him. He would also stray from the usual hunting areas to develop better understandings of the wider region.

As a 9 year old, Smegugh met a dwarf and elf walking together through the frozen landscape. He was both confused and intrigued by this discovery – he knew that dwarves and elves hated each other, and he had also been taught to hate both of them. Yet, they were both talking to each other as if they were colleagues. Gently, he stepped out and asked to speak to them, as part of his wider goal to learn. They taught him about the Order of Tngri, and their beliefs of the balance of good & evil.

Smegugh believed that this was his calling. He returned to his home, telling Yokgagu and Sharog that he was following in the footsteps of King Obould I Many-Arrows. His parents were outraged by his pronouncement, and declared that he would not be welcome back in their home.

Packing up his belongings, Smegugh took several days to travel to the Temple to the Order of Tngri, at the base of Khentiu Mountains. The druids and clerics questioned him, as they had never met an orc with religious beliefs before, at least beyond the traditionally brutish Grumuush thinkings. Following extensive interrogations, it was decided that Smegugh would be given the opportunity to prove himself.

It was at this point that Smegugh changed his name to Samuel Orc Jackson. He excelled in the physical challenges, ranking first in his own class while providing an excellent challenger to those of a higher standard. It was not unusual for Samuel to be called upon as an example in classes – while his technique was raw, his raw ferocity and improvisational technique was something that could not be taught.

However, his scholastic studies took more time. He knew he was not the brightest student, but his love of stories and stubbornness ensured that he would pick up enough to continue. His understandings of the teachings of the Order of Tngri made up an occasional spokesperson.

His devotion to the Order saw him rise through the ranks, having led both individual missions and groups into battles. He is currently a Janissary. an elite warrior that sites outside the traditional chain of command. Samuel has acted as an occasional Knight-Marshal, but seeks to progress through the Paladin orders, from Field Paladin to Temple Paladin, and finally to Order Paladin.

Not only is Samuel fastidious about his armor, but he takes incredible care of his hair. A long braid of black hair is kept tight behind him, and he is unwilling to let many others to touch it, let alone maintain it.

However, his commitment to his hair and armor is matched only by his dedication to the Order of Tngri. The balance of good and evil has helped him understand the way of the world and his goals within the Order of Tngri teachings.

He does wonder about his Orc family, but believes that the Order of Tngri is the family that understands him best. At the same time, he has never been back to see Yokgagu and Sharog.

The Order of Tngri

Samuel Orc Jackson is from the Order of Tngri, called upon by the leaders and great shamans to right the wrongs of the Great Khans.

The uniforms of black and white references the 99 tngri, split into 55 benevolent or “white” tngri and 44 terrifying of “black” tngri. The paladins of this Order understand this balance between good and evil, primarily operating under the beliefs of Qormusta Tngru, King of the Gods.

Their black and white uniforms are replicated across their heavy armor, with each paladin expected to keep themselves immaculately clean.


On one of his journeys to represent the Order, Samuel came across Lief Darkdraft, a 47 year old male human gladiator. 

He has short, wavy, black hair and brown eyes that stood out from his rough, pockmarked, golden skin. The tiny piercing on his lip was hidden from the blood pouring from his mouth and the arrow jutting from his stomach. He’d been left for dead by attackers unknown.

“No, don’t hurt me!” cried Lief, as Samuel laid hands on him, but warmth spread through him. Healing energy was passed into his body, and the arrow was expelled. He gasped as more healing magic was given to him by this random orc.

Lief stood up. “Thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me.” Samuel smiled, his fangs glinting in the sunlight. “It was clearly meant to be.”

Lief reached into his pack and gave Samuel a cloak. “This will keep you warm. It will also make you that little bit more flamboyant – it’s always worked for me on stage.” He winked, shook Samuel’s hand and left into the distance.

When Samuel returned to the Khentiu Mountains, arcane scholars studied the cloak. They found it to be a Cloak of Billowing, a simple cloak that indeed offers warmth and flamboyance.


On a similar mission, Samuel came across a group of hobgoblins harassing a young woman. Without thinking, he charged into the fray, killing two of them and scaring off the remaining three.

As he turned to her, her face was not full of thanks but full of anger. “What did you do that for?” She yelled at him. “I nearly had what I wanted from them, and you messed it all up!”

Stunned, Samuel stepped back. This was not the reaction he had expected. “Wait, who are you and what was supposed to happen?”

She huffed. “I’m Duraina Commonbrook. I’m a messenger and I was trying to get important information out of them. I know that they were being jerks but I had them doing what I wanted them to do. I was halfway through a spell that would have given me everything… and more. Now, months of work has gone down the drain. FUCK!”

Duriana stamped her foot in the small smear of blood left from one of the hobgoblins. “All this work for Cyric has come to nothing now.”

Samuel knew that Cyric is the God of murder, lies, intrigue, strife, deception, illusion. “Why help him? He brings nothing but problems to the rest of the world.”

Duriana looked at him. “You puritanical lot, you wouldn’t understand. Now, if I ever see you again, I am going to make sure you are the one that never gets up again, instead of these pathetic hobgoblins.” She spat on a hobgoblin and stalked off.

Other issues


In one campaign as a Janissary, Samuel was tasked with rooting out the drow elves from an elf encampment. Due to some tactical mistakes, several elves started attacking him, and he was not persuasive enough to deal with them all.

Elered Gadilinion was a high elf who sliced his face with rapiers, opening up enormous scars from jaw to ear on both sides of his face. In response, Samuel crashed his mace into the face of Elered, smashing his skull in and ending that fight.

The enlarged smile that resulted from the elvish sword gave Samuel an evil look, disturbing the elves and giving him the upper hand. His intimidatory look forced them to reconsider their position, and he was able to capture the drow elves hiding in the camp. While the wounds healed, the scars have remained.


While early in his training, Samuel started falling for Vengraagmon, an older lizardfolk bodyguard. She was dedicated to her craft, but provided an unusual comfort to Samuel, even though she was usually cold to most people.

While most observers would not describe what they had as a relationship, it was carnal pleasure for both of them – pleasure that Samuel had not experienced before.

He regularly sought her out, but before long Vengraagmon became more distant than before. She refused to spend time with him. Rumors began to float around that she was seeing someone else.

Overcome with jealousy, Samuel strode to her room one day and stormed in, only to find her with Suldrembrod, a new member of the bodyguard team that was being trained by her. With a single savage blow, Samuel separated her head from her body. Suldrembrod was quivering, scared, not sure what to do. Samuel ordered Suldrembrod to hide the body outside the walls after dark, in an area where animals were most likely to prey on it. He was not to say a word about this to anyone.

As Suldrembrod left with the corpse of Vengraagmon, Samuel sat in the room and wept. His only love, taking his innocence from him – he could never love another.

This guilt sits in the back of Samuel’s head, and at the same time, he has encouraged the promotion of Suldrembrod. Both of them know the secret.


As part of his work in the wider community, Samuel was asked to help out at a village that was experiencing a cult problem. It was an easy problem to fix, and was put up in The Righteous Mice, a tavern that offered to provide him with all the beer he could drink and all the food he could eat. However, he did not want to consume alcohol, as he did not want to besmirch the Order’s name.

The owner of the tavern, Gloriana Glorybluff, came and sat at the table with him after bringing him his food. Her little dwarf legs swung under her as she looked him in the eye.

“I brew good beer and mead here,” she said, giving him a steely-eyed stare.

Samuel replied, “I have no doubt, milady. I would love to try it, but I fear that drunkenness would make me and the Order look bad.”

Gloriana looked at the big orc and smiled. “You’re an honorable paladin. I think I’ve got the solution for you.” She hopped off the stool, her long curly brown hair bouncing behind her as she got behind the counter and grabbed a simple tankard. Samuel could see that there were some runes on it.

She filled it up with beer and gave it to Samuel. “This… is a Tankard of Sobriety. You can drink as much as you want from it, and you will never get drunk. I have met people like you before, and people will always want to serve you. Just recommend us to others and you can keep the Tankard.”

Gloriana spat in her hand and offered it forward. Samuel looked in the dwarf’s brown eyes, spat in his own hand, and shook. He accepted every drink that was poured into his tankard, and come morning, felt as usual.

He left a substantial tip for The Righteous Mice in his room, and has always recommended it to anyone asking.


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