Karol never knew his parents, and his first memory was the sound of drums and the sight of a bonfire. This touch his soul, and so he was for all of his life wishing to be a war singer. Life was hard for an orphaned half orc in an orc tribe, especially in the savage hills, but he always had food and shelter, and much hard work. With much effort he finally was accepted at the age of 7 as an apprentice to one of the tribes skalds. He learned much from his master, knowledge of the wild and and of the lands around, the place of orcs in all this, and the history of his tribe and its myths. In him was awakened the magic of a warsinger, and his master named him Heartsinger at his manhood ceromony, for he sang from his heart and soul, and so his song had great power. Potentially.
Once he was confirmed in the tribe, he threw himself into more study, and learned the sagas and songs of his people. At the great midsummer feasts he competed with and sang beside the other bards of the the Wolftooth, At the spring feats he sang in the spring, and sang to the dying year at winter feast. His master indicated his pride and had gain great status for his pupil. When his master passed, victim of a rampaging direbear, He stood for the clans bard at his master's burning, remembering his acts and life.
The war with the Bearclaw tribe was his first war and the field of fireflies his first battle. The first of many battles and skimishes he was in, and he was always at the fore front of the fighting, inspiring his tribemates, and wielding his axe. The battles of sunken hollow, Witches grove, bonfire hill, he was in them all. And after he composed and sang, with his drum accompaning him, the brave actions enacted by his fellows that he had witnessed. All the while, as is customary for the skalds, his own acts of bravery we little mentioned, but was noted by others.
After the war, Karol went back to the everyday work of a bard, but the war had stirred something in him. A desire to write a great saga. His master had warned him about that. "Karol, one day you may find yourself writing a saga of power and strength. By warned. It will take from you your life and soul. When it is finished, nothing that you do will ever be as good. But if it is true, and strong, it will last as long as the clan does." Karol felt that urge. But what to write it on. The everyday doings of his people though worthy were not a matter for song.
It was then that he heard of the moving of the so called civilised races to the south. His people have had dealings with them in the past, as his own body attests, but rarely peaceful ones. Still, some trade had happened and these peoples were distant. But now they were here, according to the rumours. Forests cut down, villages burned. Karol's heart burned with the actions of the intruders, but he wondered. Was this the start of his saga. He needed a band of heros, He had his cause. The Wolftooth Clan would teach these intruders, these civilised peoples that the savage hills were not theirs to do with as they saw fit. Blood and War called.
