#rumon 'crushjaw' thaerskaine

[kindliest-of-doodles]

-Long Live Crush; WIP

Shoutout to @filibusterfrog for the guide video that they posted! I am not particularly good yet but everyone please witness my goliath attempt.

You can tell I'm a real artist because I left a copious amount of dead space on the canvas. 💚

Completed work:

[pauldron-pieces]

Rumon 'Crushjaw' Thaerskaine's Backstory: Rearmed

Fandom: Dungeons And Dragons (5E)

Pairing: N/A, Crushjaw-centric

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: This is a hypothetical scenario featuring original characters in a world created by my Dungeon Master. As usual, this is non-canon and I own nothing aside from intellectual properties specifically attached to Crushjaw. This installment is mechanically unsound in a multitude of ways and ignores certain important lore facets. Trigger warnings are listed inside. Enjoy!

Taglist: @sporadic-fics and @cookiethewriter!

Inspired By: Black Hill: Low Force

[Crushjaw is a level zero barbarian, and his appearance can be found here.]

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains multiple triggering scenes including semi-graphic depictions of gore and mentions of bile/vomit. Reader discretion is advised. Stay safe!]

He would have loved to claim he had been goaded into it. Would have loved to say that it wasn't his fault or explain that it hadn't happened like he remembered. Except Rumon knew all too well that responsibility didn't work like that. His memory may be faulty, but the proof was in Krae's testimony.

Himself and his childhood friend Krae had both been interested in the same individual from a neighboring clan, the two of them butting heads over the object of their affections more than once. So of course when Krae came to him with news of an enormous ogre that had set up its stomping grounds near one of their trade routes, Rumon fairly leaped at the opportunity to fight the beast and claim victory over it. After all, what better way to prove his worth and earn a name from the clan leader than with an act of heroism?

Krae naturally came along, saying that he feared the ogre may be too tall an order for even Rumon to handle. This just made Rumon all the more determined to manage the creature single handedly.

They set up camp near where Krae claimed to have spotted the beast, the two goliaths joking and swapping drinks from a canteen of strong spirits. Truly, until both of them had set their sights on the same person, they had been brothers in all but blood. Rumon still regarded Krae as such, trusting to a fault, and thusly he missed the shifty glances the older goliath kept aiming at the treeline while the sun set.

"Come, Rumon! The moon is high. With its light, surely we shall find the ogre." Krae had cajoled after Rumon was fairly drunk, "unless, of course, you are afraid of a night hunt?"

"I fear nothing!" Rumon had boasted, "the gods are with me this night. You shall witness my triumph, Krae!"

Bold words. His grandmatron had always said that pride went before a fall.

Rumon recalled very little of the hunt after that, his memory muddied with drink. Despite Krae's insistence that the moonlight was sufficient, Rumon's recollections were oddly dim. He vaguely remembered stumbling around beneath the thick spruce canopy, his warhammer clumsy in his hands.

He remembered swinging with all his might and striking something that gave under the assault, the liquor Krae had plied him with steeling his ringing blows to something that rivaled even Varandur's mountain shapers.

He remembered when the weight of his weapon suddenly vanished, and there was a rancid gust of seethingly-hot air that blew his hair to the side. The roar was strange to his ear, far-off and faded. Emptiness rang too loud for him to hear as he wondered where his weapon had gone.

Rumon remembered realizing that he was flat on his stomach on the ground.

Where the memory became razor-sharp once more was when he tried to push himself up onto his elbows, and found his body woefully unbalanced. The goliath searched for the source of the problem and quickly located it, the sight of what was left of his mangled right arm more than enough to jerk him back to stark sobriety.

It had been severed at the elbow, though the term was a bit too kind for the injury. The appendage looked more as though it had been crushed with something that might have had an edge at one point.

Rumon had raised his eyes, mind grinding to a halt when he spotted his warhammer several yards away with his right hand still gripping the haft. Past that, along a trail marked by shattered tree trunks, slumped an enormous ogre clutching a slab of a sword. It seemed closer to a chunk of masonry than a true weapon, and Rumon's stomach had churned as he realized what had happened.

Mercifully, the agony had struck him and he promptly vomited before losing consciousness.

×+×

Gods only knew how long he had slept after that. It was a miracle he had even made it back to their healer; apparently Krae had all but carried him home. The embarrassment from that instance alone would have been enough to kill Rumon, never mind the fact that his dominant arm was now nothing but a bandaged stump.

The grandmatron would have none of it though, her craggy face somehow even more stern when Rumon managed to finally rouse himself.

"You have been named Crushjaw, little pebble. A worthy title." Her tone was icy. "I have gone through much trouble to save you. I am indebted to our chieftain."

Crushjaw. Rumon's face fairly burned with shame. "The ogre-?"

"Krae slew the beast. He brought one of its tusks back as proof. The chieftain was quite flattered by his offering, praising Krae for his accomplishment and naming him Tuskclaimer. As for his name for you..." The matron bowed her head, her expression one of grief.

"Grandma…"

"Don't you grandma me, little pebble!" The elderly goliath erupted, glaring fiercely at Rumon. Her eyes filled with tears as she went on, "you are anathema now, dear Rumon. Once you are able to walk, the clan leader has declared that you are to leave. I am no longer your grandmother. This place is no longer your home."

"'Leave'?" Rumon repeated stupidly. It felt as though everything was crashing down around him, his mind racing to comprehend. Their clan hadn't had an expulsion in his entire lifetime, wariness and confidence found too equally amongst their ranks. Compounding his confusion was the claim that Krae had killed the ogre. Rumon had been certain... "I understand." He said finally. "I am unworthy of your kindness. Thank you."

He couldn't comprehend why his grandmother wept harder at his acceptance. This was the way it had always been.

×+×

Crushjaw.

It certainly felt as though he was being crushed to death. Loneliness was a miserable traveling companion.

Rumon, very nearly unable to fend for himself, resorted to setting small game snares in the uncharted wilds. It was a child's way of hunting, but he was too hungry to be bothered by the prick to his already-bruised pride.

The few people he did encounter seemed overly wary of him. After all, a one-armed, exiled goliath would be the type to resort to petty theft.

But he wasn't a threat. He had never been a threat before, aside from just being large. Rumon couldn't understand the sudden shift in demeanor; he couldn't possibly fathom the air of desperation that his injury gave off.

It began to get easier when the weather cooled, the bulk of the thick cloak from his grandmother concealing his missing arm. The wound had not healed prettily, but Rumon knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. He hadn't died. That was all he could hope for.

He wandered alone for most of the cold times, his only companions the booming pines that fractured from the weight of the ice and snow. His thoughts had a habit of straying to Krae, and he wondered what had truly transpired that evening more than he would care to admit. Had he imagined killing the ogre? Was his mind that addled by the strength of the drink they had shared?

Surely Krae wouldn't have lied. Nothing good ever came of lying or taking the credit for someone else's accomplishments. Rumon eventually settled on the assumption that his memory must have been faulty.

After that, the whole world seemed a gray and unforgiving place, and the goliath could feel himself fading into something of the same type. Something ragged and harsh, no longer a proud warrior but a lamed animal with a crushed jaw.

That is, until the day he encountered an old elf hanging by the leg from his horse's saddle.

"You there!" The elven man shouted once he seemed to notice the large individual sauntering up through the trunks of barren maples. "Don't suppose you'd be able to lend me a hand?"

Rumon, for whatever reason, found himself throwing his mantle back over his shoulder to reveal the stump of his arm. "Good thing you only need one hand, sirrah. It's all I have to offer." He remarked.

The elf nearly died of laughter, already beet-red in the face from being stuck hanging upside down for so long. To Rumon's shock however, when he circled around the horse to help the elf dislodge himself, he realized that the leg that wasn't caught in the stirrups was severed at the knee. The fellow's pant leg was neatly pinned at the joint, padding sewn into the area as if to mimic a kneecap.

Before Rumon could say anything though, the wiry elf explained, "I lost my leg a few miles back, and this damned animal dragged me along until she got bored. Don't suppose you can accompany me a little ways until I relocate it? Thing is worth its weight in gold."

The goliath easily hefted the older fellow into the saddle before his words caught up with him. "You...lost your leg?" Rumon blinked, his brow furrowed in confusion. "I was unaware that elves could regrow limbs."

The elf looked at him a little sideways, muttering something about still waters running deep before he just shook his head and laughed, "no son, it's a genuine Chuck original. A fake leg."

A fake leg. Rumon seized the horse's bridle, desperation giving his voice a new level of gravel as he begged for more information. The elf shrewdly bargained with him: in exchange for help in reclaiming his prosthetic, he would gladly share what information he had.

"My name is Shawell." The elf introduced himself. "And you are…?"

Rumon hesitated for a moment. "Crushjaw." If people were to know his name, they would serve as a reminder of his foolhardy pride. A constant warning to heed in the future.

"Pleasure to meet you, Crush." Shawell tugged on the reins, turning his mare back in the direction he had come from. "We'd better hurry. We'll lose the daylight."

Crush. Rumon cracked his first smile in months, positioning himself on the elf's left side to steady him in the saddle.

[kindliest-of-doodles]

-Long Live Crush

WIP:

God I love this boy, I love the campaign, I love the party I'm in. Getting to once again live my dream of being helpful to my friends 💚

(Tap the picture for better resolution I apologize ;-; )

[pauldron-pieces]

Dungeons And Dragons Masterlist

As always, I do my best to keep my tags organized and any triggers labeled. If I missed anything though, please let me know so I can fix it. Enjoy!

Intro post here

Recent Updates:

4/30/21: Both Captain Physalia and Crushjaw have been added, and can be found below in their respective sections!

7/14/21: A new installment for Destrier has been added, and a new character arrives! Elanor Amroth-Rubiaceae has been added to the masterlist, and can be found below in her respective section!

4/19/22: A new installment has been added for Elanor, and can be found below in her respective section!

Trigger Key:

🍆 = Explicit Elements

💧 = Emotional Elements

💢 = Violent Elements (abuse and/or canon-typical violence)

⛔ = Nonconsensual Elements (explicit and/or alluded to)

✔️ = Complete

💚💚💚

~🔥DESTRIER REVEL:

Burn The Wicked (Destrier-centric) Rated M for canon-typical violence and character death. Trigger warnings listed inside 💧💢 ✔️ 

For Leofore (Leofore-centric) Rated M for canon-typical violence and character death. Trigger warnings listed inside  💧💢 ✔️ 

Light And Home (Destrier Revel x Illeria Stennas) Rated G for emotional duress. Trigger warnings listed inside  💧 ✔️

So Little Time (Destrier Revel x Illeria Stennas) Rated M for smut. Trigger warnings listed inside  🍆💧 ✔️

A Choice (Destrier Revel x Illeria Stennas) Rated M for canon-typical violence and smut. Trigger warnings listed inside  🍆💧💢 ✔️

Worth The Wait (Destrier Revel x Illeria Stennas) Rated M for smut. Trigger warnings listed inside  🍆💧 ✔️

The Most Important Part (Destrier Revel x Illeria Stennas) Rated G for fluff. Trigger warnings listed inside 💧 ✔️

💚💚💚

~💙CAPTAIN PHYSALIA:

At Your Own Peril (Physalia-centric) Rated M for canon-typical violence and character death. Trigger warnings listed inside  💧💢 ✔️

💚💚💚

~🦏RUMON ‘CRUSHJAW’ THAERSKAINE:

Rearmed (Crushjaw-centric) Rated M for canon-typical violence. Trigger warnings listed inside  💧💢 ✔️

💚💚💚

~🦄ELANOR AMROTH-RUBIACEAE:

The Dark Secret of House Amroth-Rubiaceae (Elanor-centric) Rated M for emotional duress. Trigger warnings listed inside 💧 ✔️

Further Misadventures (Elanor-centric) Rated G for fluff.  ✔️

The Nightmare (Elanor-centric) Rated M for emotional duress. Trigger warnings listed inside 💧 ✔️