A large brute of an orc, Do'rung lives for dealing out death and woe like any decent, black blooded orc. Malevolent eyes size up those around her,fangs gleaming behind plush lips curled back in a crude grin. Her wild hair sways behind her, covering most of her wide and scarred back. She sauntered cocksure, her body a well-fed and thick figured dusky olive shade. The orc was in her later years, already shaping to be a lustful broodmother for her clan, if not for her continued active role in slaughtering or cold coin. As she's aged, she's come to favor less armor, body far too hot for so many laers, the din of battle causing her blood to boil and her excitement to run freely as she bathed in the gore of her prey.

Unlike most of her warmates, Do'rung lacks the true rage of her people. Her mind, more focused than her brethren has been honed in the "proper" art of war. Her eye for detail and interest in the humanoid breeds has made her an asset in preying on the neighboring human settlements. In her early years, it would have been common to see her in stolen finery and plunder with a human pet, worn and beaten from exhaustion and abuse. In her long lapse from the battlefield, she has become more spartan in her needs and wants.