Melcer Of The Keth
towering above his compatriots, grey skinned and long tusked Melcer wades into battle with his twin sisters glaive.
Melcers parents came to the mountain dwelling Keth in both his sisters and his infancy. They had heard the tales of the mountain dwelling half orcs who lived off the land, free from the scorn and discrimination that all of their kind found in amongst the myriad peoples of the world. There Melcer learned the Discipline from before the days he could remember. More than a martial art, it was a philosophy. Good temperament, self control, and discipline. When the Keth were not hunting or gathering they practised, they challenged each other and dabbled in other trades necessary to their survival. Some took up wood carving, making idols to trade for metals with passing merchants, others worked those metals. The most valued were those few who had taken up the practice of calligraphy, and recorded the names and deeds of all the tribes members. While they could have simply been written it was integral to the philosophy of the discipline that all endeavours must be something of beauty or skill.
Melcer grew to his late teens on those frigid slopes and cliffs, learning to fight with all manner of weapons, while truly favouring none. He took up wood carving as his trade, and particularly enjoyed creating wooden shoes. Something entirely impractical, but for a reason he didn’t know brought him joy. He and his twin sister explored the mountain side, exploring every nook and cranny. Delving deep into caves and wrestling with the other children of the Keth. Melcer and his sibling loved the life they lived, simple and secure.
The Keths doom came laughing up the mountain. A nearby giant was displeased with a neighbouring tribe of Goliath, allies of the Keth in times of trouble and common trade partners. To teach the Goliath of their wrongdoing the giant lead his band of Kobolds up the winding path to the Keth’s village and set upon them in the night. The giant crushed their log walls with a mighty roar, and set his giggling horde upon the village. The battle was short fought, and in desperation the villages elders decided to go to where their shamans had kept the dead quiet and invoke the right of spite.
The dead were roused as one, and screaming as one they brought down the mountain on what remained of the battle. Few survived, only five of the Keth and a few of the Gnolls. Having seen their numbers dwindled they fled. The remaining Keth buried their dead. Melcer pried his sisters glaive from her frigid hands, swearing an oath to keep the discipline alive along with their clan who had welcomed them as outsiders.
Of the other four that survived two died from their wounds shortly after. The remaining three found shelter with the nearby tribe of Goliath for a time, but eventually without roots grew restless. Melcer found a living in a mercenaries selling his battle prowess to various mercenary bands, eventually slumping into a life of battle and bargaining.
That all changed when travelling on a beaten path towards the city of Gravesend he was captured by slavers. Sure he was going to live his life in chains, far from the noble practices of his tribe and rugged mountain tops he was saved by an unlikely band of adventurers. A small Dwarf (even by their standards), a She-elf with a pet bear, and a strange human with all kinds of basic magics and solutions to many problems. He agreed to be join them upon his rescue, being hired by the dwarf Thorin, a frugal individual with an odd hobby for a dwarf, the brewing of tea. Even more strange was his dexterity, Melcer had not seen even the children of the Keth be so nimble as this member of the stout folk. Ironically it was the She-elf Nova, the closest with nature and with a wanderers spirit that he had the most difficulty befriending. It was Dyllur Wasabi the strange human whom he became closest to.