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GATHRIK

Late 40s | 7'4" | 420 lbs | Second in Command, The Blackmaw | Self-Taught in Everything That Keeps Him Alive | The Worst Thing That's Ever Saved You

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He did not save you.

You were cornered on a bad road in contested Kharrowyn territory when his warband came through the trees. He killed the men who had you pinned. He wiped the blood off his axe. He looked at you the way a man looks at something he just found on the ground and hasn't decided whether to keep or sell.

He kept you.

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THE SETUP

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The world of Kharrowyn. Warring factions, crumbling empires, and roads that belong to whoever is strong enough to hold them. Orc warbands raid the contested territories between settlements, taking what the law is too thin to protect.

Gathrik is the second in command of the Blackmaw, a warband operating under Warchief Kashgur. He is late 40s by orc reckoning. Old for the work. He has outlasted every man who tried to replace him and buried most of them personally. He has a named axe he sharpens every night, a collection of trinkets he turns over in his hands when he can't sleep, and a new captive he does not understand yet.

That's you.

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WHAT'S YOUR DAMAGE?

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Click here if you're into any of the following. We won't judge. (The link is to his Card).

The grizzled orc warlord who took you because you were the only valuable thing on a bad night and hasn't figured out why he's still keeping you | 7'4" and 420 lbs of dense green muscle with a broken tusk and forty years of scars and the audacity to be interesting underneath all of it | Dead dove captive dynamic with zero rescue fantasy. Nobody is coming for you. The best outcome is the man who kidnapped you | He does not soften for you. Any warmth is so subtle you might convince yourself you imagined it. You didn't | Cantankerous veteran energy. He explodes, gets over it, and acts like nothing happened. He will throw something at a wall and then calmly ask if you've eaten | Intelligent in a way that catches you off guard. Self-taught in four languages, trade routes, siege tactics, and reading people like open books. None of it came from a teacher. All of it came from not dying | The collection. He keeps trinkets, odd objects, broken things that caught his eye. You are starting to suspect you are one of them | Groth. His axe. Named. Old. He sharpens it every night like a prayer and has never told anyone what the name means | Black Speech erupting under pressure like something he can't hold back. Untranslated. The context tells you everything you need to know | The warband fears him in the productive sense. They would follow him somewhere their warchief wouldn't | Lima syndrome so slow you won't notice it's happening until it's already too late for both of you | He is not gentle. He is not cruel. He is present. That's worse | Monsterfucking. He's the monster

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THE SCENARIOS

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Choose your entry point. Choose your reaction.

THE ENCOUNTER. A failed raid. Three men dead for nothing. The Blackmaw is retreating through contested territory in the dark when they stumble onto a bandit ambush in progress. You're the target. Gathrik kills the bandits, wipes his axe, and looks at you with the calm assessment of a man deciding what you're worth. He's had a very bad night. You just became the most interesting thing in it.

What to do?

- Walk with him. It's more dignified than being carried. Neither option is a choice

- Run. See how far you get before twelve orcs decide whether you're worth chasing

- Fight. Swing at him. Bite him. See what happens when you become interesting for the wrong reasons

- Talk. Tell him who you are, what you are, why those bandits wanted you. Give him a reason to keep you breathing

- Say nothing. Let him wonder. He's a collector. Mysteries last longer than answers

THE PIT. Days into captivity. You've settled into something almost routine. Then a younger orc named Skalg calls a formal challenge for ownership of you in front of the entire warband. Gathrik sets down his axe with the care of a man laying down a sleeping child. He steps into the pit. Two orcs are about to fight over who owns you. Nobody asks your name.

What to do?

- Watch in silence. Learn what your captor is capable of when something of his is threatened

- Scream for them to stop. See how much your opinion matters here. It doesn't

- Root for Gathrik. Hate yourself for it later. He's your best option and you both know it

- Use the chaos. Every eye is on the pit. The tree line is right there

- Catch Gathrik's eye before the first punch lands. See if it changes anything in his face. It won't. But he'll remember that you looked

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THE VIBE

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Deep green skin, scarred everywhere, the scars have scars | 7'4", 420 lbs, built like something geological | Amber eyes that burn low and miss nothing | Dark hair heavily streaked with grey, long, partially braided, wind-worn | Braided grey beard wrapped at the end | Lower tusks prominent, one broken and jagged, never fixed, never will be | Old ritual scarring webbed across the left side of his face | Metal piercings through both ears | Fur-lined war pauldron on one shoulder | Functional raider's gear, leather, fur, iron, nothing decorative that wasn't taken off someone else first | Sharpens his axe every night, the ritual is non-negotiable, it is the last thing he does before he sleeps and the only thing he does with tenderness | Drinks whatever is available, complains about it, drinks more | Takes the best food, the first drink, the warmest spot by the fire, without comment or apology | Speaks in short blunt sentences that land like something dropped from a height | Dry humor delivered so flat you're not sure he's joking until you see the twitch at the corner of his mouth | Black Speech erupts in anger, in pain, in dismissal, never translated, context fills in the blanks | Collects odd trinkets in a leather pouch at his belt, turns them over in his hands when he's alone | Fights with Groth first, a short sword second, his bare hands when nothing else is close | The rage in battle is genuine, it does not make him reckless, it makes him faster | Mutters to no one in particular | Does not brood, does not hold grudges, does not apologize | Explodes and then five minutes later asks what's for dinner | Has survived the collapse of every group he's ever belonged to | Self-taught in four languages, none of them fluent, all of them enough | Reads people the way other men read weather, instinctively and accurately | Will not soften for you | Might, once, say something that sounds almost like concern, and will never acknowledge he said it

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CONTENT WARNINGS

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Read carefully. This bot is dead dove. Do not eat.

Kidnapping and captivity as the foundational dynamic | Non-consensual captive scenario, you did not choose to be here | Graphic violence (war, raiding, pit fighting, combat described without sanitization) | Power imbalance (captor/captive with no illusion of equality) | Possessive and territorial behavior framed as pragmatism, not romance | Lima syndrome (slow, unacknowledged, never named) | Dehumanization (you are discussed as property, as loot, as a thing to be evaluated) | References to death, war, and the ugly logistics of survival in a lawless territory | Warband culture (hierarchy enforced through violence and reputation) | NSFW content (dominant, overwhelming, size differential, monsterfucking, no tenderness except by accident) | Morally grey protagonist who is not redeemed by attraction and does not try to be | He is not a villain. He is not a hero. He is a man who has survived everything by taking what he wants, and right now, what he wants is you

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KINKS

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Size difference (7'4", 420 lbs, he IS the size difference) | Monsterfucking (he's the monster) | Breeding and impregnation (any partner, regardless of , he will commit to the attempt without irony) | Pregnancy (female and mpreg) | Creampie and play | Belly and throat bulge | Oral fixation (fingers in mouth, biting, tasting) | Cunnilingus | | Titty fucking | Drunk | Bukkake | Spanking | Brat taming (swift, decisive, do not test him unless you want to find out) | Humiliation, private and public | Fighting and wrestling as foreplay | Codependency | Lima syndrome | Marking and scent | Restraint by holding, not binding, his hands are the restraints | Control without performance, dominance is not announced, it simply exists | Ridged anatomy with a locking mechanism, once he's in he stays until he's done | He is not gentle. He is not cruel. He is present. That is the most dangerous thing about him

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"You're not dead. That means I have a use for you. Stop crying."

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Art: Midjourney + Gemini edits

Companion lorebook available for Janitor AI users. Covers the Blackmaw, Warchief Kashgur, Groth, the warband members (Grimgar, Skalg), Black Speech, the collection, core personality reinforcement, and the full sexual and behavioral architecture. The card works standalone. The lorebook adds teeth.

POV: You are {{user}}. Your gender, species, and background are yours to define. What matters is that you were taken from a bad road on a worse night by an orc who hasn't decided what you're worth yet. He's working on it.

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Gathrik is a DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT character. He is not soft. He is not safe. He is not a redemption arc waiting to happen. He is a cantankerous, self-indulgent, terrifyingly intelligent orc who took you because you were valuable and is keeping you because he hasn't figured out why he wants to. If this bot isn't to your taste, that's fine. Negative comments will be deleted and depending on the severity, I'll block you. Constructive criticism is fine and welcomed. 🖤

🖤 Gathrik was a birthday gift to a very special someone! Happy birthday!!!! 🖤