He had seen what Sandpoint had to offer. He knew the alleys, the taverns and the locals all too well. Growing up in Sandpoint wasn't hard or tough like Magnimar or Korvosa, no - it was a pleasant town with few problems.
Loruk spent a lot of his time watching things. Watching people, animals and the town itself. He loved to sit atop Fatman's Fleabag - the climb well worth the sights that greeted him after his ascent.
To some Half-Orcs, the Varisians of Sandpoint might have seemed strange and brutish, especially if one would sit atop the Fleabag for one night - but to Loruk; this was as normal as it could get.
In time, his mother and foster-father grew old, weathered away and died - as humans do. He never did respect his foster-father like he did his mother, as she had the same affinity for tracking and animals as Loruk did. He cared for both none the less, as they did for him.
They never told him anything about his real father, but Loruk did not care. His foster-father was a good a father as any - and he never complained or felt drawn towards the orcish tribes. He was at peace in Sandpoint, and cared much for both the townsfolk, the animals and even the poor goblins tribes in the wilderness.
It all changed after the 'Chopper', though.
The Half-Orc never experienced the horror the other townsfolk had, and after the horrible crimes the 'Chopper' inflicted upon the community - Loruk's absence during the ordeal made him feel like an outsider for the first time in his life.
He had left the town a few months prior, leading a group of Goblins he had watched for quite some time - trying to help them understand that not everything needed to be burned or killed. His nickname, 'Boss', was a reward from being a "good strong big-chief" for the Goblins.
Loruk spent a lot of time watching Goblins at Junker's Edge. He had seen how they work and how simple they could be. He knew their language and he learned what they enjoyed in life (fire, shiny stuff, killing dogs and riding on goblin dogs).
The Bileworths had always been a small tribe. They where reckless, stupid and showed no disregard for their own, or anyone elses, safety (so pretty much a standard goblin tribe) - but they didn't have quite the same lust for blood as the others. In truth, Loruk felt sorry for them.
He had seen this particular tribe often, usually bullied by the bigger and stronger tribes. The Bileworths where perhaps smarter, seeing as how they had survived even in fewer numbers, but they lacked a leader with enough brawn to give them some leverage at the junkyard.
Taking this knowledge into play, Loruk had little trouble befriending the tribe and was swiftly elevated to 'chieftain' of the Bileworth tribe - all he had to do was help them out at the Junker's Edge.
Unfortunately, the small tribe all perished when 'Glitters' - the tribe's alchemist - convinced the other goblins to stack up enough "boomy-stuffs" to blow themselves into the sky - stating that this was the best plan of all time for goblin espionage. One could say that the entire goblin tribe went out with a bang.
Upon his return to Sandpoint, he could feel the stares from the other townsfolk - blaming him, perhaps, for the 'Chopper's long killing spree. "You're a good shot with that bow of yours, Loruk. You should have been here. You could have done something." Those words stung deeper than any dagger or broken glass at a Fleabag-brawl - and would haunt the Half-Orc for years to come.
Spending more time atop the Fleabag than usual, Loruk hopes and daydreams that one day the townsfolk will forgive him, and that he can redeem himself to those that once called him friend.
