Vethorm of Trunau's page

Vethorm would appear to be a weedy teenager of average height if he were human, but as a cragkin dromaar he is a gangly, unimpressive runt. His tusks barely poke out of his mouth and are only really obvious if he grins, his lynx-like yellow eyes are often shaded by long, greasy black hair. His skin is a deep olive, like bronze beginning to develop a patina, and on each side of his face, just between his ears and his eyes, are clearly orcish tattoos; one a rat clutching a coin in two paws and the other a Belkzen rockwasp. On the rare event he were to remove his shirt, one would also see another tattoo, this one of a coiling viper.

He dresses in the plain, utilitarian style of Trunau, with various earthy tones and a suit of dark leathers that do very little to fill out his frame. He covers the whole thing with a brownish-green cowled cloak. He's kitted out with clear hand-me-down weapons, a basic hunting crossbow and shortsword. The nicest thing he owns is clearly his hopeknife, its bright steel glinting from the chain around his neck.

A Trunauan at heart, much to the joy of his parents and the consternation of his grandmother, Vethorm is a kind and loyal soul. He's taken the Standing Oath, served his year in the militia, and attended Iomedaean services regularly, but has never quite developed a the strong honorable backbone the town expects from him, nor the wicked, self-interested will to take whatever he can reach and stab anyone in his way in the back that his grandmother has claimed the orc gods blessed him with. He'll protect his allies and his town, knowing they're stronger together, but has no patience for honorable tactics or straight fights, believing that as Trunau stands on its own in the Hold of Belkzen, it needs every advantage it can get in order to survive.

He's developed a curiosity about magic after finding out something about him resonates with magic items from Councilor Agrit Staginsdar, but has struggled with her rigid, wizardly teaching methods, but isn't sure if he IS capable of becoming a mage, or just really good at figuring out how to get magic items to work. He's still trying to figure himself out, who he is as a man and where in Trunau he fits in...

Vethorm is a second-generation cragkin, the youngest child of a half-orc couple after they moved to Trunau along with the father's full-orc mother. Despite the suspicion most people in the town have for orcs, as Vethorm's parents proved to be as generous and willing aid in the town's defense, while the orc's advanced age seemingly prevented her from being too much of a danger, they quickly became accepted, especially as Vethorm's brothers and sisters were born, grew up and took the Standing Oath.

When he himself was born, Vethorm was clearly the runt of his family. Weedy and short, he was often left behind by his siblings when they ran off to play with the other kids. This left him in the care of his grandmother while his parents worked. The old orc looked at him with haunted eyes, claiming she saw the blessing of Verex on him. She told him frightening stories of how the Despoiler tricked his enemies and took what he desired, and as he grew older, she marked him with the god's symbol and other cunning, venomous beasts to impart their virtues on to him. Fortunately, Vethorm's parents caught her finishing up one of the tattoos and after reprimanding her sternly, hugged the lad and promised to not let her hurt him like that anymore. While they tolerated her presence in their home, they made sure to keep an eye on her, and never leave Vethorm or anyone else alone with her. The old woman begrudgingly accepted this, but not without loudly declaring his son and his wife were denying Vethorm his destiny and the truth of who he was as a dromaar. Within a year she passed away, much to Vethorm's relief.

Through Vethorm's adolescence, his parents took him regularly to Iomedaean services at Sanctuary, where they introduced him to Katrezra, an older half-orc among the congregation who could see the fear and confusion in the young man's eyes and knew him to be a kindred spirit in need of advice. Under Katrezra's wing, Vethorm unlearned some of the toxic beliefs his grandmother had tried to instill in him, but never fully adopted the codes of honor and chivalry so important to Iomedaeans. After all, the orcs that continually threatened Trunau, orcs like his grandmother, saw such codes as nothing but weaknesses to exploit. It was clear that they needed to engage such enemies on their own terms rather than hold them to standards they didn't respect. Eventually the time came for Vethorm to receive his own hopeknife. Now a man himself, Vethorm began his year of service in Trunau's militia, under the tutelage of patrol leader Jagrin Grath.

Grath and Vethorm frustrated each other throughout that year. The older man saw potential in Vethorm, saw it was clear that while he was loyal and true like his parents and siblings, there was still too much of his grandmother's influence left in him, Vethorm preferring easy patrols and to rush back and warn people of incoming raiders or trouble rather than join the militia to neutralize threats as they encountered them. For his part, Vethorm found Grath an overly strict and belligerent leader, too eager to fight in dicey engagements where victory couldn't be guaranteed, but knew the patrol leader would still have his back no matter what, and, begrudgingly, Vethorm had to admit that was comforting. While the two argued often, Vethorm still followed Jagrin's orders and received an honorable discharge at the end of the year.

Over the next couple of years, Vethorm began to try and figure out just what Trunau needed from him. He did odd jobs around town, made friends, attended services at Sanctuary, but he still felt out of place. One day, one of his older brothers and his militia squad returned to town with a wagon of spoils they'd raided from the camp of an orc warband, and while helping the townsfolk unload and sort it, Vethorm grabbed a fetish-covered staff and its head sparked in his grasp. Everyone, Vethorm included, was awed at this, and it was suggested he speak with Agrit Staginsdar, the town Councilor and local wizard. Agrit almost immediately knew the significance of it: there was the potential in Vethorm of magical power, and it had reacted to the orcish magic within the staff. She offered to take Vethorm under her wing as an apprentice, and his parents, Katrezra and Jagrin encouraged him to agree. Vethorm, unfortunately, was not a good student, struggling to understand the complicated diagrams and equations of a spellbook and getting throbbing headaches, during which he thought he could hear distant roaring that no one else could. Eventually, he gave up in frustration, but Agrit and her wife Sara let him know that he would still be welcome at Agrit's shop, the House of Wonders, as an assistant if he needed a job.