Orin grew up in Steingard, a Dwarven city in the care of the Steelwall clan, a place filled to the brim with faithful brewers and warriors in the heart of the Glenbarrows. He grew up learning the family business of brewing and trading, but the adventuring life called him away from home early. He gravitated toward new experiences and the finer things in life: fine beverages and new flavors.
Orin's faith called him to the healing aspects of the Allfather's disciples. He firmly believes that all people have a right to life, and he will do everything in his power to give anyone a second chance, whether fixing an accident's damage with his healing or standing against injustice with his solid bass voice. He won't talk about it, but an incident involving the incarceration of an innocent friend back in Steingard made him realize he couldn't stay and support the corruption he saw in his clan's leadership. Now he won't even use his family name any more; he prefers to go by Orin now, devoid of connection to his past.
Orin keeps his hair in a simple ponytail, still jet black despite his middling years, and he always gathers his beard in exactly seven strands of silver cuffs which jingle when he laughs. His smile lets his white teeth shine in contrast to his sun-baked skin. He wears a tasteful tunic most of the time instead of his custom suit of half-plate, but he keeps his warhammer behind the bar in case of trouble. He has friends everywhere, and he makes new friends with the ease of someone supremely self-confident. He has stories from all over the world, and he knows the best restaurant and bar in almost every known city.
"What is the point of life," he says, "if not to enjoy it to the fullest? Another round? More cheese?"
Hill Dwarf Life Cleric (Level 7) (Guild Merchant Background)
Str 12 Dex 8 Con 14 Int 11 Wis 18 Cha 14
History +3, Insight +7, Medicine +7, Persuasion +5
Part of T.W.Wombat's #City23 project. See the Fellport Index for all entries.
Post a Comment