Home |
Vital Statistics
Eljorin is an imposing figure, standing 6' 3" with a full head of bright reddish-brown curls. His disarmingly boyish grin and somewhat naïve demeanor counter his impressive size. Whenever he gets excited, his heavily accented voice can sometimes make him hard to understand. An educated guess would place his age in the mid- to late-twenties. Wherever Eljorin travels, he always wears a kilt of a blue, green and red checked pattern. Over top of his kilt is usually a tunic of some varying shade, and he wears tall, well-worn boots. Adorning his tunic, or the sash of his great kilt when he dresses to impress is a small silver broach in the shape of a fist - a symbol of his devotion to Torm. When Eljorin is armed, he carries a plain-looking bastard sword peace-knotted into the scabbard slung over his back. However, Eljorin rarely carries any weapon other than his dirk, also peace-knotted in its scabbard at his side. Eljorin was born in the Moonshaes, and was raised by his father on his family's fishing boat. He worked the boat with his two younger brothers until his fifteenth birthday, then left home with his father's blessing to join the local detachment of the navy. Eljorin served for three years on the Indomitable, never seeing much more action than protecting the shipping lanes from pirates and thieves. While serving on the Indomitable, Eljorin began learning the art of swordplay from the ship's master-at-arms. Impressed by Eljorin's ability to quickly pick up the finer points of combat, the master-at-arms quickly began teaching Eljorin to fight with different weapons. Eljorin found his calling when he first grabbed a bastard sword. Eljorin left the navy after his three year tour-of-duty was over, and joined several different bands of adventurers over the next few years. He traveled throughout Cormyr, serving as a city guardsman, mercenary, and sword-for-hire wherever he could pick up training and skills as he traveled. Eljorin discovered his devotion to Torm after one of his first adventuring parties was ambushed by a small band of trolls. Outnumbered and tired, he and his party were facing certain death; Eljorin fell back on the religion his father gave him when young, and said a short prayer to Torm. The next thing he remembers is standing on top of a pile of troll corpses, exhausted and coated in blood. Eljorin has had a few more blackouts since his first and they have been getting more frequent of late, though not frequent enough to concern Eljorin just yet. Since that day, Eljorin has worn a broach to Torm when not fighting. Believing he has been "touched by Torm," he refuses to wear armor into battle, save war paint, a beaten steel gauntlet devoted to Torm and the skulls of two young trolls, one tied to each shoulder. When fully dressed for battle, Eljorin almost resembles a beserker, and has been mistaken for such on several occasions. Despite several close brushes with death, Eljorin's seemingly blind faith has held true, and he has yet to lose a fight against any foe of evil alignment. Eventually, Eljorin's travels brought him across the Dragonmere and into Marsember. Eljorin has seemingly settled in Marsember for a while, taking up residence in the Cloven Shield and spending nights working under the Purple Dragons as a city guardsman. On his off nights, Eljorin has started to frequent the Meade Hall, both for its atmosphere and its extensive collection of rare and unique ales and meades. He has been meaning to move on for some time, but just can't bring himself to leave. |
|
|