Appearance

Physical Description

Torinn is fairly muscular.

Body Features

As a Ravenite Dragonborn, Torinn's draconic features are less profound than other, purer bloobded Dragonborn and he does not have a tail either.

Apparel & Accessories

Though not technically an 'accessory', Torinn is never seen without his beloved longsword which in turn has taken a very distinctive look thanks to its years of service, maintenance, breakages and repairs.

Mentality

Personal history

Are our lives predetermined? Or are they what we make of them?
I doubt anyone could truly give you an answer.
 
For my own part, I like to think the gods have a plan for us while still giving us room to get there in our own unique ways. But I suppose such conversations are better left for more relaxed, easy going times.
 
I was born to the noble family of Kimbatuul, the Lairds of Uidorn Glen, in the southern reaches of Northcoast. I am the youngest of 3 and, until recently, life was good. As the firstborn my eldest sister Marishka was in line to inherit and received a great many lessons from my parents that she may fulfil her role properly. A pastime she relished I might add. She would often tell me of how she would be sitting in the library studying when I would crawl into the room having escaped my crib yet again. She would then set me upon her knee and read aloud as she went. Perhaps that is where I get my love of reading from.
 
My elder sister Orrina, as the replacement heir, was not quite as appreciative of intellectual pursuits preferring training and sparring with the guards to one day take on the role of a warrior. A favourite story of hers was when she was sparring with a guard who was soundly beating her until I ran out screaming and crying and trying to beat him up myself. She promptly picked me up and took me away ending the sparring.
 
Personally, I developed a healthy love of both intellectual and martial pursuits which seemed to eventually blossom into an unusual form of combat my tutor called 'Bladesinging'. As an aged and learned elf of 300 years he had seen his share of things and learned his share of knowledge all of which he was happy to pass down to me and so, bit by bit, I learned the art of combat that would turn me into a Bladesinging Wizard. In addition to my training, I also took up the bagpipes, a beautiful instrument I believe to be sadly underappreciated in this day and age.
 
But, we all know what they say about good things.
I was 17 years old and out of the house settling a land dispute. I managed to resolve it but on the way back home, I saw a column of black smoke rising from my destination. Naturally concerned, I hurried to the spot hearing screaming, shouting and other sounds that were generally not consistent with a happy household. As I got closer, I saw figures in dark armour running around with torches and weapons. I saw my mother run out with her dress on fire and into the figures begging for them to help her. Instead they laughed and cut her down.
 
To my shame, I hid as fear overtook me putting me in a prime position to watch my father dragged out of the house and chains placed upon his wrist and ankles "What gives you the right to act like brutes towards us!?" One of the figures punched him in the face "You know full well what you did and now it's time to pay the price!" He was taken away loudly objecting and proclaiming the innocence of himself and his family. I could not watch anymore, neither my heart nor head would allow it and so, I ran. I have no idea how long I ran for, days or weeks but eventually my head finally overruled my fear and I returned to the house. Or what was left of it. Smouldering ruins and ashes, that was all that remained of the place I grew up in. I sifted through the rubble and ashes for hours looking for anything and everything I might be able to salvage. I was lucky enough to find a few family trinkets that had survived the attack as well as a few coins. I was hoping to find some evidence of what might have been the reason for why this happened or perhaps what happened to my sisters but found nothing on either count.
 
There was now only one place that could have answered my questions: the capital. I made for it with all speed praying I would find at least one answer. I only found death and exile. You would have to be blind, deaf and have no sense of smell to miss the huge crowd that had gathered in the square all of them crying for the blood of some new criminal. As I got closer I saw it was my father standing before the headsman's block. Beside him was a minotaur, big even by his people's standards, wearing a silver smiling skull mask over his nose and holding a greataxe in his hands. When my father refused to kneel, the minotaur used the pommel of the axe to knock him down and the audience just laughed. My father was facing an execution but I knew that trying to free him meant dealing with the entire guard force of the capital. Then a strong hand grabbed my shoulder "No." I turned to Guard Captain Ronarth Schmidt, a good man and an old friend of my father's "I don't know what happened here but I know your father and whatever they're charging him of, he didn't do." He sighed "Not that it matters, the people are up in arms and if you're not careful you'll be next. Take this." He handed me a small pouch "Go, if not for your sake then your family's. Let someone survive." He was right, I knew he was right but it still stung worse than any wound I received before or since.
 
 
So, I left. That night, I opened the pouch to find a handful of coins and my father's signet ring inside.
So, I started border hopping not staying in one place very long, just enough to make more money before carrying on. Until I entered Tyrest. I was the proverbial fish out of water so, frankly, it was only a matter of time until someone took advantage and I lost what little money I had left. Broke and destitute, I needed a means to gain money and it was offered by a grinning, shifty dwarf who seemed to feel the need to constantly rub his hands. He introduced me to the Fighting Pits. Pretty much as the name implies, a dark dank hole in the ground where people battled it out for the amusement of the crowd and money.
It was not glamorous, in fact, it stank of body odour and blood, but if I wanted to survive then this seemed the best way to go about it. People will always pay money for blood sports.
With that money, I not only lived but put out the occasional feeler to try and find my sisters or at least work out what happened to them. So far no such luck.
 
And so, I have spent the rest of my life moving from ring to ring earning money, scars and a few stories as well as the attention of a few wealthy female patrons. My favourite has to be Lady Griselda Olsen, a very affectionate human woman with whom I had no small amount of good times. But, while the ring brought in money, it was not nearly enough to sustain a life. Time to move on. Grissy wrote me a particularly passionate letter before we parted ways but I genuinely believe it is only a matter of time before there is a new body in her bed. That woman knows how to have fun.
And so I come to Torfe where I hear interesting things about ancient ruins and treasures. I play my cards right and this just might be the place where I can finally set down some roots and try life again. Perhaps even find my sisters.

Education

Torinn was educated by an elven mentor who noticed the boy's love of academia as well as martial pursuits and was able to blend them together making a Bladesinger Wizard of him.

Mental Trauma

Thanks to his inability to save his parents from death while fear paralyzed him. Torinn has resolved to never run away again, within reason.

person.sexuality

Torinn is heterosexual but also quite open minded and willing to try anything at least once but if he doesn't like it, good luck trying to convince him to do it again.

person.gender_identity

Male

Known Languages

Common and Draconic

Personality

Motivation

Mainly to find his missing sisters Marishka and Orrina but that takes money so he intends to make it.

Hygiene

Cleanliness is next to godliness.

Social

Birthplace

North Coast

Current Residence

Nothing permanent yet

Religious Views

Firm believer in The Scribe, god of Magic and Knowledge.

Mannerisms

A gentleman off the battlefield and an artist on it.