Ah, my dear Gargrim. How I loved to play him, my very own Troll character. I have many fond memories of playing Gargrim, from the very first times I played him in the phase 3 of beta testing of EQ, when he discovered the misty swamp of Innothule with his sister Nukalu (played by my friend Chuck), as well as the lovely Troll damsels Babikaks and Shirl.

Then, in beta phase 4, another incarnation of Gargrim was born. This time, he ventured far across the sands of Ro toward the cities of Neriak and Freeport. There, he joined the dark elf army that was to invade Freeport, as a mercenary. But, during the days before the epic assault, he also met some humans and elves who touched his heart with their warmth. He was then torn between his gentle friends and their goddess Erollisi, and the powerful dark elf army and their Dark Lord's promises of power. It is during the climatic battle that Gargrim made his choice between light and darkness.

Finally, a third incarnation of Gargrim was born during the commercial release of EQ, on the Erollisi Marr server. I enjoyed the company of many friends, such as Malok and Gouachok (Carl), Nalok and Tredath (Yannick), Nukalu (Chuck) as well as the great people of the dark role-playing guild The Cimmerii. In this phase, Gargrim traveled as far as the lands of Kunark, and so he finally lived his dreams of leaving Grobb (and his mother) once and for all, and of discovering lands of wonder. Though as the Real Life person person behind Gargrim, I got fed up with the stupidities of some of my fellow EQ players, as well as with the demands the game imposed on my RL schedule, and therefore left the game of Everquest behind me, in my mind, the great Gargrim Puniesbane lives on, and will live in my heart and memories for as long as I live.

Race: Troll Class: Warrior Gender: Male Level: 26 Religion: Cazic-Thule  (Erollisi Marr in one incarnation) Server: Erollisi Marr Current place of residence: Grobb Alignment: Evil   (Good in one incarnation) Guild: The Cimmerii

Gargrim is a Troll Warrior from Grobb. He is very mean, cruel, brutal, bitter and almost fearless. There are only two beings in the world that Gargrim truly fears. The first is Cazic-Thule, his God. Gargrim has been forced to attend several ceremonies to the swamp God, and every time he has been visited by its Unholy Spirit, who seems to have clutched Gargrim's heart in its sadistic claws. The second being Gargrim fears is his Mother. She is a very mean, large and ugly Troll woman, and is quite irrational in her way of caring for her children. This household tyrant is very demanding of her offspring, and takes great joy in bringing them misery.

While Gargrim lives in Grobb, he is under the will of many Bigbosses. His God, his Mother, the Bigbosses of the Da Bashers guild. He hates them all. He hates them all so much, and would love to kill them. He would love to grip their necks in his hands, to smash their heads against a stone wall, to ram their foreheads against a stone, and then to hack repeatedly at their stunned, defenseless bodies with an axe until his arms are numb with fatigue.

But this he cannot do. Not yet. The bigbosses are still much stronger than Gargrim. So Gargrim must comply. For now. But Gargrim dreams of his escape. One day, he will run away. He has already caught glimpses of the Blue Sky Land. He has talked with Teir'Dal, and heard of the fabled city of Neriak. His dream is taking shape. One day, soon perhaps, he will leave the stinking swamp. He will disappear in the outside world, out of sight from all the Bigbosses. No one will be able to find Gargrim. Not Da Bashers Bigboss. Not his God. Not even his Mother. And he will grow stronger... And stronger... Until the day comes that he can go back and smash all their faces.

Since Gargrim is so foul tempered, he has few 'friends'. His closest companion is his younger sister, Nukalu. She is a Shaman, and therefore works very efficiently with Gargrim at killing things. She is also their Mother's favorite, which brings quite a lot of frustration to Gargrim's life. Gargrim has also 'befriended' two wandering Dark Elves, the magic wielding brothers Malok and Nalok of Neriak. These people will be instrumental in his escape from the oppressive swamp.

Gargrim's father was a Troll Warrior named Uzbur, who was killed a few years ago by a Froglok raiding party. Gargrim has several brothers and sisters. His older brother, Brigruuk, left the swamps some years ago, to join a Dark Elf army. He never came back. Gargrim's older sister, Bargara, was killed not long after while hunting swamp alligators.

Gargrim was third born in the family, and after him was born another male Troll, Drobroz. When Gargrim was still young, he was bitten by a snake while playing in the swamp and became very ill. His younger brother saw this as an occasion to gain some prestige in the family, and tried to kill Gargrim in his weakened state. Unluckily for him, Gargrim still managed to have the upper hand in the fight, and smashed his brother's head against a stone, breaking his skull.

Next was born Nukalu, then another female Troll (Izgrah), then a male Troll (Urugru) who was killed as a child by his 'friends' as part of a 'game'. The last born is Kukak, a young male Troll, who just began his Warrior training, and who looks up to Gargrim, even though he is constantly tormented by him (Gargrim needs someone on whom to let out the frustration brought by his Mother, and some days there just aren't enough frogs).

Gargrim is a larger than average Troll, whose eyes are always set in a murderous scowl. They burn with an evil orange gleam, as though they were alight with some unholy fire. Gargrim is very strong, even by Troll standards, and has a dominating personality. He is more organized and 'clever' than the average Troll, though still simple-minded and predictable by Human standards. He truly enjoys commanding a War Band through the swamp and leading them into battle against the puny frogs.

Gargrim also loves to ponder on life while he is idle. He views himself as some sort of philosopher, and constantly strives to define what "Is good" and what "Is bad". He also studies other people's behavior and analyzes it deeply. There is more to Gargrim than meets the eye.
 

Here is a text I wrote after the last night of Beta Phase 4, after the epic battle between Innoruuk's horde and Mithaniel Marr's army. In the end, Gargrim, who had been a worshipper of Innoruuk instead of Cazic-Thule in that incarnation, actually became a good guy.

--- MEMORIES OF BLOOD ---

"Me was there at epic battle between Shining Metal God of Punies and Innoruuk. Prince of Hate. Lord of Blood. God of Gargrim. Was very bloody. Were corpses scattered around.... Everywhere... So many corpses around Gargrim. Far, far more than number of toes and fingers. Far more corpses than even most cunning Shaman of Grobb can count. All to glory of Innoruuk...

God of Punies lays dead. Innoruuk and followers are victorious. As me walks around in daze, with feet splashing in blood, me sees Punies and Quarterlings screaming and running for life, and wonders. Wonders why? Before me has also wondered why there is so much killing. When me was in swamp, me asked no questions. Me bashed. Me smashed. Me killed. Me laughed. No questions, just dead frogs.

But then me goes out of swamp. Sees world. Me sees blue sky land, with cottony white clouds.... Me sees desert, and wild pumas roaming gracefully... Me sees tall spires of Fripport.... Me feels the Touch of the Goddess of Love from the hands of Benelorn the kind healer... Me hears the Chants of the Faerie Laeaniel... Me changes... Me starts to loathe the killing.

Me is standing on battle field. Feet are drenched with fresh blood. Ears are still full of cries of Punies and Quarterlings being eaten alive by brothers of me. Then me sees. Me sees tiny woman crawling away into darkness. She crawls because her leg is broken. Her nails dig deep into soil, as she tries to drag herself away from battlefield. She fears. She knows she dies soon. Me not feels bloodlust at seeing defenseless prey. Me not feels hunger at seeing fresh, soft meat. Me feels.... Hollow in chest. Me feels the fear of the little puny woman. Me knows me must help. Me starts walking to her... Out of corner of eye, me sees gleam of white bones. Skeletal warrior dances its way to crawling woman, holding wicked scimitar in hand. Dark Elf Magik Master is behind it, with gleam of joy in eyes. "Slay her... Slowly" he tells the skeleton.
"I obey, master" says skeletal warrior in voice from beyond grave.
"No!!" me says. "Not kill her !!". Me pushes past skeletal warrior. 'You not kill her !!"
"Silence, fool," Magik Elf tells me. "She is mine. See that no other heathens try to escape our just wrath."
Skeleton warrior keeps advancing toward her. Raises scimitar high in air, to strike woman. Woman not even looks up, tries to crawl a bit farther with bloody nails.
Me strikes skeleton. Axe shatters skull. Me kicks bones out of way, and grabs little tiny woman. She lighter than a little fish. Me starts running away with her in arms.
"Heretic !!" Magik Elf cries after Gargrim. "Stop him !! He aids the foes of our Lord !! Stop him, in the name of Glorious Innoruuk !!"

Me runs through dark forest. Trees flash by eyes of me at great speed. Me feels more than hears dark ones behind me. They want blood of me now, as they wanted blood of punies before. Me thinks for short moment about arrival of me and friend Grimglogg to Dark Elf city, how us feel proud of joining their army... Me not knows if Grimglogg still alive, or dead. Me hears twangs and whistles. Are pains in back and leg. Three pains, maybe more, me not sure. Me feels bad. Hurts. But me keeps running. Me runs, and runs, and runs. Life of me and life of puny woman are at stake. Me must get to Fripport... Maybe guards let me pass and not kill me, if they see I help puny woman... Me remembers words of Benelorn, wise Magik Man of Fripport... He tells Gargrim of Temple in city, Temple of Healing and Love... Me knows must find Temple...

At last, me reaches valley that leads to land of Blue Sky. Me hurts a lot, not knows if can run all way to Fripport. Leg begins to feel numb.... Me thinks arrows of Dark Elves have poison... Me stops behind curve of valley, to catch breath a bit. Me not hears them after me anymore. Is good. Me smiles and tells little woman "You not fear, little one. Me brings to Temple of Fripport. You good soon." As me looks down at face of her, me notices she not ordinary puny. She has pointed ears, like Troll. She faerie. From land beyond endless waters. Face of her is pretty as swamp flower.
Then eyes of me stop on eyes of her. She looks fixedly at something. At nothing. Me shakes her a bit. She limp. She not moves. She not blinks... She not breathes. Throat of me feels very tight. Eyes begin to sting.

Then they jump on Gargrim. Dark elves with sharp blades, in dark. They move in and out of dark, and dance around Gargrim. Me tries to keep them at bay with flailing arms, and realizes that has dropped axe to pick up little woman. Me feels steel bite into flesh of arm, of hip, of belly.... Pain stings.... Vision blurs... Me tries to run away... They everywhere... They.... The little woman.... Benelorn.... Me needs.... needs.... help... pain...."

Forager Krikokk was swimming swiftly through the swamp water. It was extremely nervous, all alone in the Troll-infested swamp. It had to get to Guk, and fast. Reports of the most recent, bloody ambush had to reach the ears of the Inner Council of the frog-people!

It set foot on a muddy island and started hopping in the direction of the gates of Guk. The surrounding swamp was quiet... too quiet. All of a sudden, the Froglok froze in its tracks. It felt a gaze upon itself... Turning to the right, it saw two eyes staring straight at him. Eyes that burned like evil flames. Paralyzed by fear, the forager could not react before it was too late. Soon a huge Troll towered before him and its hand closed over the soft Froglok throat.

A deep voice rumbled from the Troll's mouth. "What meaning of this? You speaks now... Why there so few frogs in swamp today?"

Shaking with fright, the forager found itself utterly unable to speak. The Troll shook him violently, hurting its throat. Krikokk finally managed to croak: "Ambush... Many... Dead... Cimmerii..."

"Cimmerii? What dat?" asked the Troll, shaking the tiny Froglok even more violently. So violently, in fact, that the poor creature's neck snapped.

And so the Troll stalked off, grumbling about the dwindling of the Froglok population, and about the mysterious Cimmerii.
 

----------------
 

Squire Terenos was walking wearily along the rocky road, leading his horse forward. His wounds were bandaged but they still hurt. He spared a glance toward the prone figure of Lord Galanos, his liege. The holy knight lay sprawled over the back of the horse. Though Terenos had bandaged his lord's wounds as best he could, he knew that his life was at stake lest they found a temple of healers soon.

"What folly it was, venturing so deep into the lands of the evil ones," muttered aloud the squire, feeling safe that his unconscious lord would not hear his rebellious words. "We were slaughtered almost to a man by those vicious swamp dwellers, and for what good, I ask you? Bah! Tis not glory to attack such immense fiends in their own home. Tis madness."

Indeed, squire Terenos was among the only men who had survived the Troll onslaught on the edges of Innothule Swamp. Now, he had abandoned his companions, in order to bring his lord back to the safety of Freeport.

Had he not been so tired, Terenos would have heard the enemies approach behind him, along the rocky road. But he heard them only when it was too late. The twang of a bow, and the shriek of his horse as an arrow pierced its flesh. As the horse fell to the ground, trapping the still unconscious Lord Galanos under its bulk, Terenos turned to see two large, mishappen figures running toward him, carrying vicious-looking weapons. Behind them, two dark-robed shapes walked calmly in his direction.

"Trolls!" he thought, "And Teir'Dal!" He turned and started to bolt in the opposite direction. He heard words chanted in a dark language from behind him, and soon felt all strength drained from his legs. Try as he might, he could not lift his feet from the ground! He was stuck in place... With two large Trolls closing in on him.

Terenos raised his arms and implored mercy, in the name of Mithaniel Marr. The Trolls stopped right in front of him, and the largest one hooked his thumbs behind his wide belt and raised an eyebrow at the man. Terenos cowered under the huge shadow that loomed over him. The towering Troll warrior was clad in bronze and leather armor, and carried two wicked axes at his belt. But most fearsome were his orange eyes that gleamed, as if alight with an unholy flame.

At last, the Troll spoke in a deep voice, and in the Common Tongue, for Terenos' benefit. "This it? Is army of punies? Me expects dozens and dozens of punies from Fripport. Is this all Gargrim gets?"

"B... But, Great Gargrim," stammered Terenos, guessing this was the Troll's name, "Your people slaughtered our expedition... Only myself and my poor master are left. Please, I implore your mercy! I have a wife and seven children. Please! They need me in Freeport... I will never again trouble the Trolls of Grobb for as long as live, I promise!"

The Troll Gargrim considered his words for an moment. Then his eyes narrowed menacingly as he spoke again. "If what you says is true, Gargrim not there when other punies killed. Who is ones that kill you? Hmmm? Who they are?"

"I b... believe they c-called themselves... The Cimmerii," answered Terenos.

Gargrim bellowed in rage, shaking his clenched fists before the terrified Terenos. "Cimmerii!! Arrrrhhh!!! Cimmerii!! Is annoy Gargrim!!! For weeks now Gargrim and War Band scouts swamp, blue sky land and no water land looking for punies, frogs and evils. Barely finds any. And everywhere Gargrim goes, is name hears. Cimmerii. Cimmerii! Me tired hears that name. Why they kill all and not leave for Gargrim? Is enough. Gargrim goes and talks to them. Is not fair they kill all and War Band of Gargrim kills nothing. Malok, you knows them?"

One of the Teir'Dal sorcerers stepped beside the large Troll, and gave a cruel, smug smile to the prone Terenos. "Indeed, my large friend. That name is well known among the inner circles of Neriak. They are a vicious band of warriors and sorcerers who roam the world and sow destruction. We should indeed seek them, for an alliance with such a powerful destructive force would benefit us greatly."

The other Teir'Dal stepped on the other side of Gargrim. He spoke as he drew a dagger from under his black robe, "You speak wisely, brother. The voices of the dead tell me that their main force is heading toward Neriak as we speak. If we make good time, we can catch up with them in Nektulos. Let us depart soon. But first, let this fool's soul taste the hatred of our Father."

The Teir'Dal Necromancer's dagger flashed. Terenos let out a painful scream as his blood splattered on the dusty ground.

------------------

The woods of Nektulos were dark as the Cimmerii made their way quickly toward Neriak. Quick and efficient, the members of the horde were already set on the task ahead. Much fear and torment would befall the fools who opposed them.

As they approached the great Teir'Dal city, four shapes stepped out of the shadows in front of them. Two were large and ugly to behold; a Troll man and a Troll woman. The other two were clad in Teir'Dal garments and moved with deadly grace.

It was the Troll man who stepped in front of his group to meet the Cimmerii. His orange eyes burned brightly with determination. He planted his two sturdy axes into the ground with a loud 'thud', then folded his powerful arms over his great belly.

"Us hear lot about Cimmerii." he said with a thick WeGrobb accent. "Us want join. Me leader of War Band, and tired of getting crumbs of Cimmerii. Me wants share of big loot."

"Name of me is Gargrim. Me Basher of Grobb. Others of War Band are Nukalu, she sister of me and Shaman; Malok, advisor of Gargrim and Wizzerd; and Nalok, brother of Malok and Nacro... Nerok... Death Mojo Man."

"So what you says?"

This text describes the epilogue of Da Kwest that Gargrim and his friends performed to enter The Cimmerii. You can see pictures of Da Kwest here.

Three figures stood in the torchlit room, around a massive wooden table. The night sky could be seen through the open windows of the Grobb cave-home.

A fire roared in the large hearth, and bowls containing the remains of a generous meal were stacked on a shelf against a wall. On the table were displayed several items - trophies from fallen foes.

Calmly sipping ale from the massive mug of Trollish make he held in both hands, Malok surveyed the display. Many powerful foes had indeed fallen before the onslaught of the War Band. Before him, on the table, were the nine aqua goblin bows. Boog Mudtoe's severed, stinking head. A pirate earring. A bracer of Erollisi.

Malok smiled to himself, while beside him, Nukalu and Nalok were also eyeing the display of their trophies. Then, Malok turned to behold the last, but certainly not the least, of their prized possessions.

The firelight gleamed along the great curved blade of the Grobb Cleaver, as a fourth shape was busy sharpening its edge. Huddled in the shadows, Gargrim was hunched over his new implement of pain, and he cradled it lovingly against himself as he sharpened it.

"You like your new toy, friend Gargrim?" asked Malok.

The dark, massive shape looked up from the shadows at the mention of his name. Firelight reflected in his deep-set orange eyes. In those eyes one could read intense glee and lust for violence. Those eyes burned with a passionate anger.

A wide grin split the Troll's face, revealing long, sharp teeth. He nodded his leather-helmeted head.

"I presume that Kzan will be most pleased with our recent acquisitions," remarked Nalok.

Gargrim's grin widened even more. "If he half as happy as Gargrim, us join Cimmerii in natime."

Having said this, Gargrim returned his attention to the sharpening of the Grobb Cleaver.
 

(This text is told by a mysterious being who looks like a Teir'Dal, clothed in dark shades. He is an agent of discord, and we see here how he uses Gargrim and other denizens of Neriak to further his twisted goals.)
 

It was a joyous evening at the Blind Fish. Ale was flowing freely, while cheers and boisterous songs resounded loudly in mine ears. Fools of all shapes and sizes surrounded me. Dark Elves, their hateful eyes glazed with drunkenness, talked, laughed and groped at each other in the smoky atmosphere of the Neriak pub. Lumbering and stenchful Ogres and Trolls could also be seen around the place, belching and laughing stupidly.

I enjoyed the chaotic display those clowns provided me for long moments. But then, reminding myself of the task ahead, I began my night's work.

I gathered several of the simplest minds I could find in the place. Dark Elves, even in their drunken stupor, were not easy preys. Thus it was that I found myself sitting at a table with three Ogres and a Troll. I drank with them for a while, learning about their pathetic existences in order to better understand them. For knowledge is the key to manipulation.

The three Ogres where mercenaries who guarded the abode of the witch Najena. They clearly spent much time in those dark dungeons, for their skin was pale. The brutes were Bartak, their leader; Bagurtak, his brother; and Krosseye, a fat and stupid Ogre whose dull wits were further diminished by alcohol. This was quite an occasion for the trio, as it was clear that their mistress seldom gave them the freedom of enjoying a night out of her dungeon.

The Troll was a wandering warrior called Gargrim. This otherwise dull creature interested me immediately, for in its gaze I could read bitterness and potent anger. Surely it would prove itself useful for my goals of discord.

For this, my friends, is what I seek. Discord. Ah, the sweetness of it! To behold two beings locked in genuine hatred for one another. Each using the very best of its abilities to defeat his foe. I never tire from this miracle. Discord, war, strife - those are what brings out the best in all the creatures of Norrath.

Thus it was that, after a time, I suggested a simple game of dice. All agreed to participate and put some shiny coins on the table. I put some as well, and we played for a long time, as money was exchanged from one hand to the other. Gargrim the Troll insisted at one point that we all use his dice, and I noticed that his luck increased considerably from then on. The dumb Ogres continued playing, losing their money to the green creature, never noticing like I did that his dice were loaded.

Then I felt it was time for the real game. Pretending that my purse was empty, I produced a trinket from a pocket inside my cloak.

I'll not soon forget the looks on their faces when I placed the massive saphire in the middle of the table. All four pair of eyes lightened up with greed at the sight of the blue gem.

"Dat bootiful! Where is from?" asked Bartak, the Ogre chief.
"From the olden Combine Empire," I lied. "It was taken from the very crown of emperor Gromtak Grimstone, many a century ago."

They oooh'ed and aaah'ed and the Ogres told me how they would bring this piece of their history back to Oggok with pride. The Troll obviously wanted the gem as well, for its monetary worth.

And so we all eagerly rolled the dice. I conveniently rolled a mere four. Krosseye, who was almost comatose from all the alcohol he had consumed, then picked up the dice and lazily cast them on the table. The result was seven.

Sweat pouring down over his forehead, Bagurtak then picked up the bone cubes. He shook them for a long time, blowing on them for good luck. He cast them on the table and got a mere three. He bellowed in rage as he jumped up from his chair.

While his brother was still howling in misery, Bartak took the dice in his large meaty hand. As he shook them, his eyes were locked on the Troll Gargrim's. Hatred and greed could be seen on both faces as Bartak cast the dice. "Dark Mastar's Fists," he called out proudly. Two fives. So far, he was winning with a ten.

Gargrim calmly took the dice and shook them for a few moments, still eyeing the large Ogres. Krosseye had now passed out and was face down on the table, but Bartak and Bagurtak were glaring at the Troll.

Gargrim cast the dice on the table... They seemed to roll for an eternity... And they finally lay still. "Da dominion," announced the deep-voiced Troll. Two sixes. He'd won.

The table almost broke as Bartak slammed his two fists down on it. "Is no Troll gonna get gem of Oggok!" he yelled.
"Is gem of Gargrim now, me won it fare n skware," replied the Troll angrily.
"Is no fare, dice of you loded!"
"Dey not!"
"Dey too!"
"Gem belongs Gargrim now, is nuthin yu can do bout it!"
"Shoor is sumthin. Dere tree of us an one of you, watchoo gonna do bout it?"
"Whaz dis? You wants piz of Gargrim??"
"Blah! You just weak Troll, you no match for -"

And before he could finish his sentence, Bartak received Gargrim's fist straight in his jaw. Immediately, Bagurtak jumped to the defense of his brother, and soon there was a huge fistfight between the brutish creatures. This soon degenerated into a generalized melee.

Having quietly recovered the saphire from the ground where it had fallen when the table had been upturned, I enjoyed the scene for a few moments, then departed. My work here was done for this night.
 

(Gargrim’s conclusion)

Gargrim nahappy. Me won fare n skware big shiny blu rok in dice game oder night, n Bigguns steal rok of Gargrim! Gargrim tries get rok bak, but da Blakkinhol guards dey break off fight n separate Gargrim n Bigguns. When tings calm down, Gargrim looks for blu rok on floor of tavern but is not der, of kors. Gargrim *knows* is Bigguns steal it! Gargrim goz in Najhol n bash Bigguns and gets back what is ritefooly Gargrim's. Gargrims hopes nafoz come with Gargrim n teetch Biguns lessen.

Gargrim's contribution to Trollish poetry: Ode To Da Boat