Korrum grew up in the wilds, mainly interacting with civilization just enough to keep his weapons maintained and remember how to talk to people. The majority of his time is spent hunting, fishing, and watching the weather for storms. He's always felt a resonance with inclement weather, especially when the darkened sky rumbles with thunder and flashes with untamed lightning. There are few things he enjoys more than feeling rain on his face as the sky turns from night to day in a flash.
Korrum has never held a grudge, since he has never been taught how. No animal in the wilds harbors resentment for its enemies; it either eats when it is hungry, or fights when it is threatened. In much the same way, Korrum bears no malice towards his enemies, even when they are woodsmen chopping down trees or hunting game. He knows that the hills and the trees will find a way to endure.
In the past, one of his common contacts between the wilds and civilization was the Drunken Silkworm inn. He would sometimes trade pelts, weather predictions and meat for supplies, clothes, and weapon maintenance, although on occasion he would be troubled by superstitious or intolerant folk, on account of his distinctively orcish features. Much like the predators of the woods, he paid his critics no mind unless attacked; the lesson of leaving a dangerous creature in peace was one he taught to many a foolish stranger.
The burning of Chitterwood, in stark contrast, left a gaping wound in his memories, as the death of the forest robbed him of his favorite sleeping spots, his neighbors, his hunting grounds, and the closest thing he had to a home. The dwindling visitors to the Drunken Silkworm only reminded him what had truly been lost. He'd seen forest fires before, but this time, something was different. The fire hadn't seemed natural. It consumed far more than any blaze he'd witnessed, and smelled of carelessness and murderous intent. The skies also seemed to fall silent at the blaze, offering no rain or respite from the fire. It was all somehow wrong.
Korrum travelled away from home for a time, leaving the wood to regrow on its own, or so he hoped. He sought answers as to the forest's demise, and hoped to find the source of the unnatural air the blaze carried, but he also just wanted to be away from the suffocating ash and lifeless husks of the trees he once knew.
With his search turning up empty and his supplies dwindling, Korrum has returned to the Drunken Silkworm to rest, resupply, and see if anything has changed for the better in Chitterwood...
