If I whet my glittering axe, and mine hand take hold on judgment; I will render vengeance to mine enemies, and will reward them that hate me.
When he was younger, Urack’thar had been studying to be a cleric in the service of Melora. He was away at the local temple for the day, and when he returned he found his village razed, his family and friends butchered, and everything he had known taken from him. For days he grieved, the destruction around him eating at his very being. Slowly he conducted proper burials for those he could find, it helped ease the pain. Once he completed that grim task, he gathered what supplies he could find, and the twin axes of his clan, Ur’thang, and Sar’thang. For as long as the clan had existed these axes had been carried by the chieftain, and now as the sole survivor of the clan they passed to him. After paying his final respects to the fallen he ventured into the wilderness, to seek his vengeance.
“If I whet my glittering axe, and mine hand take hold on judgment; I will render vengeance to mine enemies, and will reward them that hate me.”
He soon learned that the massacre had been the work of a group of humans who believed that half-orcs are abominations that needed to be cleansed from the earth. He tracked them to their village, and studied them, looking for his opportunity to strike. One by one he picked off any who wandered too far from the village alone. The his opportunity presented itself. He met a group of dwarves, halflings, and kobolds who were being harassed by the humans. Together they were able to assault, and destroy the human village, along with all of its inhabitants. Vengeance was his.
With his thirst for blood quenched he once again ventured into the wilderness, this time in search of a place to call home.