Oranoan the Quiet

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## **Appearance**

For a Half-Orc wielding such heavy weaponry, Oranoan certainly doesn't conform to stereotypes. His frame is relatively lithe and thin, and his clothing is rather conservative for a Barbarian. His face is almost always shrouded by seaweed-green locks of hair, only exposing a pair of short, ivory tusks. Oranoan's skin is marred, in places, by sets of small scars. His back is host to a rather large wound, though it is only ever visible when his torso bears no tunic.

## **Background**

To the far north of most trade-cities, the town of Silverkeep sat alone amid rolling hills. The residents of Silverkeep, mostly Half-Orcs and Humans, made their living as miners, raking valuable ores from caverns and mineshafts surrounding their homes. As removed as they were from popular paths and roads, they were not without occasional strife; Roving bands of Kobolds often came to reinforce their weak grip on the region, claiming that the hills belonged to their kin. In response, Silverkeep’s youthful Half-Orcs were often trained to be, at least in part, powerful warriors and defenders. One such warrior was Oranoan the Quiet, a calm Half-Orc whose history and family would eventually push him away from his home and into a life of adventure.

Even before he was born, Silverkeep’s residents knew that the child of Rogma Koruldesh would be troubled. She was the town’s most prideful Half-Orc, and had been raised in a most stereotypical fashion; Rogma was boisterous, eager to fight, and always held warriors in highest regards. Unfortunately, her passion worked to her disadvantage when a travelling bard named Simon Guilarma came for a short stay in Silverkeep. His rakish charm and foreign magic caught Rogma’s attention, and within a few days they’d become quite close. Simon’s short stay became a visitation of several months as he moved into Rogma’s cabin, dropping all previous obligations to live with his new love.

Things seemed to have turned for the better, from Rogma’s point of view. Her quiet village life had bored her, but now she has found love Time, however, proved to weaken Simon’s attraction to the Half-Orc. One night, as a dark storm passed over Silverkeep, the bard took off into the night and travelled south without warning. Rogma woke up to an empty home and a shattered heart that no magic could heal. The bard had taken with him whatever valuables the house stored, and left behind Silverkeep, his lover, and their unborn son.

More months passed, and Rogma’s child was born. The village, full of kind, warm hearts, helped support the Half-Orc mother, and soon enough the entire village had become a surrogate family for the fatherless baby. His name would be Oranoan; This name brought strength with it, said the elders of the town. It was strength that the boy would need, growing up without a true father. While her resentment of the bard that had manipulated her never faded, she loved Oranoan wholeheartedly, as would any mother. With the help of the town, she ensured that her son would grow up to be an honorable, powerful individual.

Years had passed since the Half-Orc known as Oranoan had been born, and his upbringing had proved easy for the town of Silver keep. He was respectful, honorable, and well-rounded by the time he was seven years old. Unlike other young Half-Orcs, he was rather reserved and quiet. While some were worried that he’d grow up as a shut-in or a social reject because of this, most believed that Oranoan was simply not meant to shout and scream like other warriors. As such, many called him Oranoan the Quiet. It was a title that he didn’t seem to dislike.

By his tenth year, the boy had begun weapons training, and proved proficient in combat against similarly-young peers regardless of his choice of weapon. He could not always win against his opponents, but he was hardy and strong despite his losses. By age fourteen, he’d outpaced most other initiate warriors and begun practice with real weapons. Though he was far from open combat, Oranoan proved himself among other Half-Orcs his age and showed that he had great potential to become even stronger. It was during his sixteenth year, however, that he was thrust into true combat against his will by circumstance.

While the town was experienced in dealing with small, hit-and-run squads of ornery Kobolds, none were prepared when a warband of over one hundred scaly raiders came cresting over the horizon line toward Silverkeep. As their distant yips and screeches filled the air and bells sounded out around the mining town, it became apparent that the town’s guards alone would not be able to stand against such a threat. Immediately, Silverkeep’s residents, young squires, and warriors-in-training took up arms and joined their tutors at the front line. Oranoan took up his place aside his mother and prepared himself for the enemy's charge. As the Kobold’s approach closed in upon Silverkeep, roars of prideful warriors filled the air, and combat commenced…

The battle lasted only around half an hour. The Kobolds, though strong in their numbers, simply could not match the might of the Half-Orc guards. Combat ended only after more than half of the Kobolds had been slain and the remainder of their squadron had fled into the neighboring forest. Silverkeep had lost only a small field of crops in the struggle, and only a handful of the town’s residents had sustained injuries. Oranoan, having slain a his fair share of invaders, was thrilled to have helped his hometown. He’d sustained a wound on his back, which was quickly treated by a cleric of the town. The resulting scar was deemed lucky by those who’d been involved in the fight. Oranoan and his young friends were congratulated by their elders for their efforts, and their town celebrated their great victory the following night.

Amid the feasting and merriment, however, Oranoan couldn’t help but consider his situation. This quiet, tiny town… it had never before seen a raid by Kobolds such as that, and would likely never see such combat for the remainder of his lifetime. Even in their massive numbers, they were easily crushed by Silverkeep’s warrior force. If ever he wanted to feel the thrill of real combat again… well, it wouldn’t be in Silverkeep.

Only a few weeks later, Rogma announced to the town that she would be going on some sort of journey into the southern half of the continent. Only the most out-of-touch townsfolk wondered where she’d be off to; Her son had proven himself competent and capable of combat, and the wretched bard was likely still wandering in the south. It was clear to many that Rogma intended to locate her ex-lover and dole out justice. As she walked out of town, everyone seeing her off completely understood her need for closure, including her son. In fact, her departure only strengthened Oranoan’s desire to seek his own adventure in some other part of the world. A few days after Rogma’s journey began, Oranoan gathered his things, said his goodbyes, and made his own way down southward.

For several months, Oranoan Koruldesh explored the wilds, visited towns, and helped the people of the region however he could. Most of the time, of course, he helped by laying waste to vile monsters that threatened to do harm to the good people of whatever town he was currently visiting. While no town was without prejudiced Humans and Elves, no one could deny that Oranoan was a deeply helpful force, and his presence became appreciated, even by those who’d normally not be welcoming to those of Orcish blood. However, his journeys were not without strife…

On what originally seemed like a routine trip to a town of Gnomes, Oranoan was approached by a elderly wizard who asked of him a simple favor. Near the town’s outskirts, an ancient tomb held a magical artefact holding many secrets. It would be dangerous work, but the wizard promised an ungodly sum of gold in exchange. The Half-Orc prepared himself for what would surely be a difficult mission. With haste, he entered the dungeon and made his way to the central chamber. He fought hard against undead abominations and deadly monsters before he finally found the item he’d been seeking. After a few hours of spelunking and fighting, he finally exited the cavernous tomb. As he felt sunlight upon his face again, however, a searing pain burst out at his back. He collapsed, barely conscious as he watched his employer walk up from behind, take the artefact, and grin.

Oranoan looked on in pain as the wizard explain that the payment was a falsehood, and that he’d be killing the Half-Orc and using his corpse for necromantic experiments. Just as he was sure he’d die, a small mob of Gnomes from the town came running to the tomb. As they approached, the wizard cast a spell and disappeared without a trace. The mob took Oranoan back to the town, where he was treated for his wounds. They apologized that their town was host to such a monstrous magician, explaining that he’d used magic to manipulate the town before. Oranoan cared little about the circumstances; He didn’t blame the townsfolk, of course, but the hatred of the arcane that stories of his father had imprinted upon him was only strengthened by this ambush.

Oranoan stayed in the town for about three weeks as his wounds healed fully. Then, word came to him of a nearby city known as Absalom. Apparently under siege by numerous undead, the city seemed to be a perfect place to resume his adventures. He left the Gnomish town at once, sticking to the most direct routes to this new city...

## **Personality**

As far as Half-Orc Barbarians are concerned, Oranoan is amazingly relaxed, most of the time. His tone is often reserved and calm, and he usually speaks with low volume. He only ever raises his voice when extremely excited, whether this excitement is joyful or wrathful. Taught from a young age to care for and compete with his peers, Oranoan is prone to pushing others past their limits, and always encourages his allies to do their absolute best. He finds that life has two great pleasures: Monster-Slaying and Adventuring. Oranoan is quick to join dungeon-roaming parties, and often seeks a fun fight whereever he goes. Gold, favors, rewards in general, those are things that come second to the thrill of the fight!

Despite a number of negative run-ins with magic users, this Half-Orc's disdain for magic is only surface-level. He believes, in part, that magic is a tool used primarily by theives, brigands, and charlatans. Honorable warriors, in his mind, should keep away from using arcane magic in their fights, as a duel between rivals should remain balanced in favor of he who is strongest. Oranoan understands fully that magic is a powerful tool when used by the right people, but distrusts weaker individuals who may use it to manipulate others and cheat their way to wealth or affection. Often, he will deny arcane help from magicians and wizards, as he prefers to rely on his own, raw power to overcome obstacles.