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Animated and granted sentience in a different multiverse, Greoats served directly under the evil god Illvringer as one of countless specially refined zombies.
Greoats was, as stated, one of a nearly endless army of zombies. Greoats was not known personally to Illvringer, though Illvringer was known to many undead. Greoats was well familiar with his dogma, as well as some of his methods.
Illvringer used limited amounts of technology when it was beneficial to him, primarily clockwork, alchemical, and magically-facilitated in nature. Greoats spent much of his free time watching his chief engineers and alchemists with great interest. Though among the most intelligent of zombies, his intellect was only average by human standards and he was able to truly comprehend little to none of the mechanics of what he say, but it sparked a deep interest in both the process and the possibilities it offered.
The countless wicked acts committed by Illvringer and his companion deities (usually through Illvringer's own suggestion, instruction, or in his name) the balance between good and evil was so profoundly disrupted that the ensuing events that followed destroyed the multiverse. Through a complex series of events he was brought to this world upon the destruction of his home world.
In the void between worlds, he was infected by a metaphysical parasite that inhabited his arm. Upon reaching this reality, the dimensions of the parasite became impossible and his arm became twisted and monstrous but remained usable. At times, however (though never against Greoat's will) the arm would twitch and move on it's own.
Aware of his appearance, Greaots never made any attempt to enter any cities. He haunted the woods, occasionally eating. Like all zombies, he had no metabolism or need to feed but like all of Illvringer's zombies, he had been given bloodthirsty tendencies and augmentations best suited to sate them. He would, on occasion, prey on whatever small animals he could catch. The tracking abilities and unusual speed granted by additional augmentations served him well in evading predators more capable than he and catching prey. He mostly avoided detection, but hunters and woodcutters would often bring home only slightly exaggerated stories of some hideous, deformed monster stalking the woods.
During this time, Greoats arm began to move and shift more and more of it's own volition. It developed parts that bore striking a striking resemblance to the sense organs of creatures inhabiting the material plane, as well as strange, horn-like growths. While Greoats remained in control of the arm, for the most part, he recognized that he had entered into a symbiotic relationship.
One day, a half dragon accompanied by a half dragon entered the woods. Greoats observed them for weeks, where they returned regularly, each week. They were adolescent males. The half dragon slung a few weak spells and the half goblin simply watched. If this was the extent of his power, then it was nothing to worry about and the two would make ideal test subjects. Greoats was tired of stalking the woods. It was time to learn about the world into which he had been thrust.
One day, when he felt the time was right, he sneaked up on them, got between them and their exit out of the woods. He took the half-goblin hostage with his monstrous arm and announced himself. He noticed, with relief, that the most commonly spoken language was the same in this dimension as it was in his. The next thing that he noted was that the half dragon eyed him with apprehension (that Greoasts would learn was only for his companion's safety) instead of fear...He thought he even saw traces of something akin to interest...Perhaps even admiration. When the half dragon (whose name he learned to be Matasoga) agreed to cooperate, he released the half goblin (whose name he learned to be Kromli).
He questioned him, learning all that he could about this world as well as the customs of local cities. Matasoga answered, cooperatively and asked a few questions of his own (which were primarily dodged). When he had learned all that he could over the course of several hours, he released them, after swearing them both to secrecy, under threats of the lives of everyone in their village. Matasoga seemed unworried by the threats and agreed to keep quiet. Kromli seemed uneasy from beginning to end, but Matsoga seemed as interested in arranging further meetings as Greoats was.
During their next meeting it was Matasoga that asked most of the questions. Greoats, after a moments deliberation, decided that there was no harm in telling the truth. Matasoga wore a bewildered and frustrated expression as he heard tales of another world and gods. He never accused Greoats of madness or fraud but it was clear enough that he didn't believe him. Greoats considered this to be just as well. It made no difference to him whether or not Matasoga believed him.
Eventually, Greoats felt that he had learned enough. Matasoga had supplied him with some peasant clothing (including a heavy cloak which would hide his monstrous arm) so that he could beg and observe. Most of the coin he obtained went to Matasoga, for which he was given scrap metal and books with diagrams of simple clockwork devices and machines.
With Matasoga's help, he dug out a sort of hidden hovel in the face of a hill in the deepest part of the forest. Woodcutters avoided it as local legend held that it was cursed. He set up a crude forge where he worked with what scrap he could accrue from Matasoga. His skill and supplies were not such that he could create weapons or anything marketable, but repeated experimentation helped him to find his limits and set his goals.
He was gifted with an arm that gave him superior strength, even by zombie standards, as well as various other augmentations but he was not satisfied. He experimented, tirelessly, needing no sleep or rest but eventually found himself approaching the limits of what he could build with his limited knowledge, meager skills, used materials, and no magic. He decided to pursue the most lucrative kind of magic (as well as the path that he felt suited him best) and study to be a priest, not only to expand what he could create but to follow his devotion to Illvringer. So far as he could tell, Illvringer didn't even exist in this world but that hindered his devotion not at all. Besides, as he saw it, Illvringer not giving proof of his existence was, by no means, proof that he did not exist. He was a god of caution, stealth, lies, and subterfuge. He could easily be out there watching. Even if he was not, the power of evil in the world and his devotion would be enough to grant him the spells that he sought.
Matasoga was enthused at first, but after learning that any real progress would take years and that he was beginning to rely on a deity (none of which Matasoga had any faith in) for results, he lost all interest, but continued delivering parts and charging premium prices for them, which Greoats always willingly paid. After all, what need had he for coin, aside from what Matasoga could get for him?
Eventually Greoats reached the limits of what his knowledge, experience, education, and funds could provide, even with his limited, self-taught magic. Eventually he turned to thievery.
Under cover of night, he made of with books, metals, and parts from the surrounding countryside. His unholy strength and quasi-sentient arm would have no trouble in dealing with anything that came their way, he knew that murder would provide a much greater impetus to the local authorities to hunt down and destroy the culprit.
He made of with alchemical supplies, gems, clockwork machines, minor magical items, and books of all kinds. He would have liked to divert the blame by framing another spellcaster, but knew too little of town rivalries to properly do so.
By spending days and nights on end, he eventually succeeded in furthering his knowledge to more significant degrees. He managed to separate himself from his arm, leaving a metal socket and peg connection by which they could be rejoined. He also managed to temporarily embue himself with some traits and strengths possessed by the living by creating something that would work in a manner similar to a human heart.
The mechanisms were crude, consisting of bladders and blood used from slain animals as well as various pipes and clockwork motors, but after spending enough time connected to the elaborate machine, he could pass more easily as a crippled but living human, making his work in the world significantly easier. He had yet to master the machine to fit as compactly and work as efficiently as Illbringer's had, from inside his chest, but given time, he may find a way.
Working without an arm proved only a minor hindrance to Greaots. Lead weights were easily installed within the socket and concealed beneath his cloak. Indeed the missing arm was a motivating pathos, more than anything, moving those from whom he begged more reason to contribute.
Alchemical experimentation allowed Greoats to see through the eyes of the arm-symbiote (who he names Betelgeuse) as well as share other senses, making him a perfect spy, his relatively small size allowing him access in places where Greoats himself could not go unnoticed.
He fashioned a new arm for himself, using a gauntlet and bicept and shoulder armor, filling it with tissue from the symbiote, clockwork mechanisms and tubes filled with chemicals that allowed the clockwork arm to move according to his will.
He gathered his items and began to selling items that he created (mostly simple items that he smithed himself) to make a living, eventually setting up a forge within the town. Each day he would use his "life-support) machine to flush his body with blood, not only further preserving himself, but also making himself appear alive.
He kept his mechanical arm as an almost permanent fixture, using it at all times when he worked at the forge. As is simply looked like normal armor, no one ever suspected that there was anything other than flesh beneath. He worked as a smith, repairing items that were brought to him and appeared to be just like any other townsman running a business. All of his money was put towards metals, books, gems, and alchemical substances to further his research.
By day he donned commoners clothing, working at the forge as any other smith might. By night, he dawned his priests robes and gave worship to the dark god Illvringer. He dreamed of the day when he might use his red hot forge as a glowing alter of torture, and make the type of blood sacrifice that Illvringer desired, but the time was not yet right. Retribution brought by such actions was not something that Greoats could rebuff.
For now he had little choice. He would play the part of the common smith, making items, tinkering, repairing, all the while waiting, slowly growing in power. The time would come when he would find his god...Even if he had to kill every man, woman, and child in this town, and any other. He would gladly offer them all as sacrifices to the Prince of Ghouls.