Dakar's page

About Dakar

Feats: Dodge

Physical Description
Dakar is small for a half-orc at only six feat. While his leaner well-toned frame and understated tusks make him more tolerated than other half-orcs, while his green skin, pronounced sloping brow, and red eyes announce his orc blood clearly.
He keeps his dark brown hair a bit long, going down to the base of his neck. His facial hair ranges from clean shaven to a few days growth.
He has a large tattoo that covers the left side of his chest, side, bicep, shoulder, and shoulder blade. It resembles a night sky filled with silvery stars and a cluster of stars over his heart that forms the holy symbol of Desna. This tattoo seams to resist fading and scars that would mar its design.

Religion
Dakar worships Desna as he explores the wilderness of the forests he calls home. A night sky filled with stars is his temple, and his tattoo that Desna marked him with is her blessing.

History
You want to know my story? He! The story of Dakar, my story, begins with a rape. I guess that most half-orcs' stories start that way. My mother didn't talk about it much. I think she didn't want to make me feel like it was my fault. I was born near the Andoran and Taldor boarder, but that is not where my mother came from. She came from the River Kingdoms. She came south hoping that I could have a better life, a life where my heritage was not so dispised. My mother loved me very much, even with my “father” ruining her life and my mixed blood preventing her from ever doing better then scraping out a living. When I was a child a merchant asked my mother to marry him, but only if she abandon me. Leave me at a church, or just leave me behind to fend for myself. She refused, and we continued living in our hovel on the edge of human society. It was hard, but we always had each other.
When I was ten a sickness came to the village. Some blamed me even though I never got sick. The healers came and helped, everyone except my mother that is. They claimed she was unclean. I was the proof of her taint. When she died I made her a funeral pyre like in the stories.
I survived as best as I could. Scrounging in the forest, stealing from villages. I did what I had to to survive. During those two years I only made one friend. A girl named Kiya. She would sneak me food when her parents told her not to. We played together and talked together. I couldn't stay near the village for too long, so I had to leave for months at a time to avoid making the villagers to angry, but I always came back to see Kiya. I still visit her to this day when I can. She is my dearest friend.
After two years on my own I had become pretty good at surviving, or so I thought, until I met Stinna. She's a dwarf. A dwarven ranger to be precise. When she met me she almost killed me. I really wouldn't have blamed her. She is a dwarf, and I was trying to steal from her. For some reason only she knows she did not deliver me to Pharasma. Instead she took me under her wing. She taught me, and mentored me, and even helped me find my faith in the goddess Desna. After two years of training we went our separate ways, but not before we prayed to Desna for ten days together to help me control my rages that was a “gift” of my orc heritage. Desna granted my prayers and marked me as her own by giving me my tattoo.
Then I wandered for a while, until I fell in with the Pathfinder Society. I hope that my duties don't take me from my forest for too long.