A man walked down a dirt path, leading south towards the Olgog lands. Long dirty blonde hair fell about his shoulders, and a well kept beard adorned his face. Piercing blue eyes looked out from his half helm which was slightly too large for his head. On his chest was a coat of worn chain mail, used but well cared for. Around his back was a heavy cloak, the kind travelers and caravans used to keep the dust off of them. This man had another reason for wearing though, to hide his identity. He was a wanted man, for more crimes than he cared to answer for. This was Lorne Harlas, Black Lorne to his employers. No matter the job, he’d get it done for the right price, and he had a perfect record for getting it done.
Usually the job was to kill someone, a rival, a merchant, even a family member. He was no stranger to killing by any means, he had first killed at age 12. He was an orphan, left behind by a family that had no use for another mouth to feed. He had lived in the orphanage for the first part of his life, learning to be a good citizen. However, he was small for his age, and was often pushed around by his peers. It was one in particular that was the worst, a brawny monster of a 12 year old who was some illicit son of a sailor. Finally having had enough, Lorne resolved to remove the problem. He hid in alley as night began to fall, clutching a small hemp rope in his hands. Shadows had always seemed to hide him better than others, although whether it was just because he was smaller he didn’t know. As the boy made his way back to the orphanage, Lorne jumped him, strangling him to death with the rope. He hid the body in an abandoned house and returned to the orphanage.
It was not the first time he would kill while still in the orphanage, and he would leave at age 16, and set out on his own. He grew, as boys do, reaching just under 6 foot. He worked as a mercenary, fighting for whomever had the most coin. He grew used to weapons such as the longsword and the spring-shot pistol, (The normal ones never seemed to work properly). It was during this time that an adept from a caravan identified him as an unconscious leyas user. The reason he could disappear into the shadows so easily was because he was unknowingly calling them to hide him. He traveled with this adept for a year or so, learning more about his power. However, one day he awoke to the sounds of battle, his master was dead on the ground, and outlaws were butchering the guards. He melted into the shadows, and left for the nearest village.
He would stay in the village for the next two years, working as a town guard and hit-man for the local lord. However, people slowly began to resent him, and after a time they even began to suspect him of the killings, the people going missing in the night, all adversaries of the lord’s of course. One night a trap was set for him, and after his victim was dead, he turned to find half the watch staring at him. Once more he ran, and did not stop until he was well south of the border of the Goblin lands.
He had heard tell of the wars happening down here, and when there was war, there was always need for another sellsword. He would travel to an Olgog tribe, he had no problems with the goblins, they had never done him wrong.
He would end up serving Kolgol, and the tribe of Ka’Rhug, and serve them he would as long as they satisfied his blood lust. He understood they had no coin, which was rather disappointing, but beggars could not be choosers, and a safe place to work out of was fine for him, and he even got to kill people.