Other Aliases: Grebok, Grebok SOD, The Keykeeper, The Miradorian, Greb-Greb, Grebokalypse
Planet of Origin: Mirador
Known Relatives: Drogmar, son of Blumgargh, Hero of the Realm (father, deceased); Lady Adelia, Keeper of the Seven Keys of Ventoozlar (mother, deceased); Sera, Lady of Fellowplane Keep (sister)
—
Grebok was born of two worlds. Well, not literally. Really, he was born on Mirador. One world and done. However, in the more poetic sense that I’m employing, he was born of two.
You’ll see what I’m going for in a second.
Mirador, like Grebok, was complex and full of contradiction. It was equal parts magic and science. The world was populated by elves, orcs, dwarves and shit, but also hosted a fully functional space navy, domed cities, and moon bases. They had this whole sci-fi/fantasy vibe going for them. Very Japanime. It’s like a teenager came up with it.
His father’s side was populated by a long line of barbarian tribesmen, indigent peoples of the plains and mountains surrounding the planetary capital of Ventoozlar. They were a spirited, adventuresome people who successfully resisted every attempt to eradicate them or simply make them put on a proper pair of pants.
His mother’s side was of noble blood, an off-shoot of several Houses that fancied themselves very important to the daily goings on of Ventoozlar. His mother was awarded Fellowplane Keep and charged with keeping the mythical Seven Keys of Ventoozlar by merit of being born first, or something.
Lady Adelia, as ladies are wont to do, got herself into some peril one faithful night, which Drogmar, as heroes are wont to do, rescued her from. Despite her best breeding, she found something roguish and exciting about her rescuer, even though he could be accurately described as looking like several apes in a car accident. She threw herself at him in hopes of stealing his heart as he had stolen hers.
Nine months later, she gave birth to a baby girl, and found that the man of her dreams still spent most of his time provoking fire drakes and pirates. She wooed him a second time, and this time a boy child was born, surely a baby boy would melt his stoic heart. He liked him fine enough, he explained, just like the wee girl-child. Still he spent most of his nights head-butting Yetis and other such derring-do.
Thus Grebok grew up between these two worlds (remember, figuratively), neglected by each in equal measure. His father eventually succumbed to a Yeti with a particularly rigid forehead, and his mother to heartbreak. Grebok was saddled with the tasks of the noble half of the family, while having the head and heart of his father’s barbarian clans.
He tried his best. He matriculated at the Miradorian Academy for Arts and War, joined the Space Navy, and went about learning what was proper of a man of his station. He then threw all of that out the window, and left Fellowplane Keep and Ventoozlar behind to go tear-assing around Mirador getting into trouble. The adventurer’s blood ran too deep in his veins.
He saw many sights, and made many friends (and enemies) in his travels, but still his thirst for adventure remained unquenched. Even flying to far off moons grew less and less exceptional. Until one day, while on a dungeon crawl with a group he hooked up with at a tavern, he found an ancient and mysterious slip of paper. The text held the answers to all that ailed him.
It read: “Redeemable for One Free Sundae, courtesy of the Cosmic Paisley Wormhole McHappy’s.”
Where was this far off place with their exotic treats and siren’s call? He had to know. The very next day he stole a Miradorian Personal Starfighter and trekked out into the great unknown to forge a brand new destiny.
As a Shadowstory.
•••
The beautiful piece of art up yonder (detailing our lunatic heroes) has been provided by the genius pens and pencils of the ever-brilliant James J. Frazier, and the colors given to us by the equibrilliant Andrew Conti. We did a little Photoshop tomfoolery to highlight the highlighted hero.
