Oor Khazad

Moose Antlers tattooed on his back. Elves looking into his eyes are reading his mind.

### Backstory:

Oor’s mother, Bava, was a Human refugee, fleeing her hometown that was burned to the ground by a band of Orcish raiders from Scandar. It was as they were fleeing this town, on their way to Bluelog, that the same raiding band double back for the survivors. This time she was forced upon by an Orc, who left her for dead. But before her spirit returned to her maker, a horn blew from the distance and in rode the shining cavalry of a patrol from Bluelog back in its days of prime. An honorable, dashing Paladin and his squire led the charge of the party 6 men, armed-to-the-teeth with magical weapons and spells who drove off the nasty Orcs. That was the way his mother told the story, anyway.

Growing up, Oor idolized that no-named Paladin who had saved his life. He longed to be the man who could charge into battle and save a damsel. He began training in combat as soon as he was old enough to pick up a weapon. But, throughout his adolescence, he slackened on his discipline and began pursuing other interests. And that desire to save people curbed into a desire of fame and to save people from their boredom. He began to dive after women and music, mostly. It was in this time he discovered he had a profound sense of wisdom and that people were often impressed with his ability to change the rhythms of their hearts to match the rhythm of his drums. Through the angst one experiences in this time, he also began to doubt the stories of the great Paladin because, as long as he had lived in Bluelog, he had never seen such a man. There were Paladins, yes, but none that matched his mother’s exact description. And, so, after gaining local fame in his minstrel band, the city of Bluelog conscripted able-bodied men and women to defend against a great threat that never came to pass. Once released from the service of conscription, he decided to join the guard willingly.

During this time, he met his current non-commissioned officer, Gavelheart, upon his first days of training. The Dwarf took a liking to him, as Oor showed promise in his fighting abilities and, more importantly, the comradery the Private stirred in his fellow guardsmen by way of an improvisational drum circle. In traditional militaristic fashion, the boys call Gavelheart Gravel-ass to his back, and, in private, Oor is the only one to call him that in person who can get away with it. The two bonded over a blood pact in a vow to always defend one another, and Oor sees Gavelheart with much respect.

On the other end of the spectrum, Oor is quite intimidated by the Half-Elf sorcerer, Kyvan Gysseghymn. Being one of the few Elves Oor had seen, and the only one he had ever really interacted with, the Half-Orc began to fear the man because he just had a way about him. And every time he looked into the man’s eyes, he heard words in his own head. So he tens to stay away from Kyvan as much as he could.

Now: Recently, Oor has been having hyperrealistic dreams of an altar of some sort that seems to be inviting him to take advantage of its power for the sake of fame. It’s calling to him. He’s been able to resist the desire, but it’s beginning to upwell in his heart. He has begun to visit the town’s different faiths and clerics to sort out these dreams.