New Character Submission - Otir Albino

[PremiumBanana]

Character: Otir Albino
Age: 39
Gender: Male
Classes: Monk (20)
Race: Dwarf
Subrace: Gold Dwarf
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Deity: Vorax

Biography:

Albino was not an only child, but he sure felt like it sometimes. He had two younger sisters and a single baby brother. He was a first born, but that did not grant him any speciality with his family. At least not the kind he craved. To be quite frank, the only thing that granted Otir any speciality in his family was his pale visage, his pink eyes, and his white hair. Referring to him simply as “Boy, ” hardly ever using his proper name, Albino’s proud father viewed him simply as a disgrace to the family name, and his siblings were quick to follow suite.

Otir’s early days in the dwarven surface-city were rough indeed. Living off the scraps his shunning family allowed was hardly enough to keep his strength up. It wasn’t long before the locals began to see the spirit of this young dwarf being crushed out of him. Practically excommunicated by his own blood, Albino’s people skills were somewhat lacking. A “yes, ma’am,” here and a “no, sir,” there in reply to the small tasks that were put before him in exchange for food from the neighborhood parents were about as vocal as the little feller would get.

People began to note the pure lethargy with which the poor dwarf was acting before he was even 35. Most were sure he was a lost cause as he began to slip further and further inside himself, closing out almost everyone. Working for food less often, his beard a frazzled mess and his zest for life destroyed by his most unfortunate condition and conditioning; it was in this state a traveling human monk by the name of Wulther met our little Albino.

They met on chance: Otir sent out by a local mother to fetch her old friend who had just arrived to town. It so happened this friend was Wulther. He was quick to take pity on Albino, seeing the boy had lost any shred of inner peace. In the time it took for Otir to guide the monk back to the woman’s home Wulther had decided he must try to help the boy.

It was a slow and trying process, as the human knew it would be, to get the stubborn, depressed albino dwarf to a point where he was willing to help himself. So resolute was his notion that he was unworthy of more then he had.

Wulther’s first step was to befriend the dwarf. Otir had never truly had a friend before and he found it quite odd that the monk would offer to help him with his meaningless tasks, seeing as how the man was obviously not disabled in any way, and could therefore take up any trade he liked. Still, Wulther insisted that Otir’s begging and scraping was more suited for him, and the dwarf was not one to say “no” to people. And so the two would travel about the town doing simple, often monotonous tasks, and the monk would talk away of his life of adventure. At first Albino was quite unreceptive, but as the weeks passed the dwarf found he had questions pertaining to the some of the details of the stories. Questions Wulther had intentionally left unanswered in his original the reports. It was in this way the two became friends.

The second, and easiest, task was to get the poor dwarf a different living arrangement. It took much convincing, but the Albino eventually agreed to allow Wulther to put him up in a cheap inn, away from his demeaning family. It wasn’t the leaving of his family that Otir protested, but the out-of-pocket expense he was burdening his newfound friend with.

For the next few days Otir was greatly enjoying his slowly brightening way of life. But early one morning Wulther woke the boy and to announce to him that he would be on his own for the next day or so, as the human had an errand. He thrust a small pouch of coin into the confused dwarfs hand and said, “When I return we travel. Prepare!” This further confused the young albino, but before he could protest the monk was out of the dwarf’s room and out of the inn. Knowing nothing of travel or how to prepare for it, Otir held on to his friend’s small bag of Truth, buying only some easily kept foods.

Upon his return Wulther was insistent they set out immediately. When asked where, the monk only replied they were headed for a new beginning. That sounded just about welcome to Otir and he did not hesitate a heartbeat as he passed for the first time the gate of the city he had once called home.

As the pair traveled they would talk of many things. Wulther filled the young albino’s head with tales of battle and honor, glory and valor. It was not until the two were attacked a very ugly bandit clad in studded armor and wielding a mace that Otir had even considered the dangers of wandering about aimlessly and alone. The bandit was sure this would be an easy battle to win, if it even came to that. Two unarmed and unarmored commoners would be no match for him. The two encountered the bandit about midday on their fourth day out. He came out from a hiding spot off the path and met them face-to-face on a part of the road hidden from view from either end of the road due to the positioning of some trees. “Give me your truth and your brains will stay inside your heads,” the ugly man stated. Wulther undid his pouch from his belt and tossed it to the ground several feet ahead of him. A few coins spilled out. The bandit walked over and picked up the pouch, then began collecting the loose coins. This was his error. Wulther was in front of the man before he could even blink and the monk’s knee slammed into his face, breaking his nose in a spray of blood. Faster then the bandit could react to, reeling as he was, Wulther had the man’s sword-arm in hand both at the wrist and elbow. The force was applies and there was a crack that was almost as loud as the man’s scream of agony as his arm bent in a way it was never meant to. Albino stared in disbelief as the man dropped to his knees clutching his broken arm. Wulther calmly collected his coin purse and the mace he had just been threatened with.

Later that night, around the campfire Otir asked if Wulther would teach him how to fight like he did. The monk agreed on one condition: That the albino was also willing to learn the ways of his honorable god, The Father of Battle, as well. The dwarf had heard of the deity before, as many of his kin back home worshiped Vorax as well. He figured that anything Wulther deemed fit to teach was indeed fit to learn. He agreed immediately.

The two traveled endlessly. Often making camp for days on end as Wulther taught the young dwarf the subtle ways of unarmed combat. As they moved about the land Wulther would speak of adventure, their god, and honor. During the colder season they would stay in inns wherever they ended up and the man would teach his apprentice to read and write. “The joys of literature,” he often called it.

For four years the two companions roamed the land together when suddenly tragedy struck. The pair was staying at an inner city inn when Otir woke to a commotion in the other bed. Someone had snuck into the room and was atop his only friend. It was the monk’s flailing that awoke the albino; for some reason Wulther had not called out. And then, with a bubbly gurgle, the situation became clear. Knowing his mentor had suffered a mortal wound, the dwarf acted quickly. He jumped from his bed and tackled the maniac in a dive, tossing all three of them to the floor. The assailant cried out in pain as he hit the floor and Otir was on him in a second. Unarmed (his dagger was still buried in Wulther’s throat) and having but one good arm to protect himself with, the man was soon beaten into unconsciousness by the stocky dwarf. Sadly the monk was gone on to another world before the fight had even finished.
Otir, in his grief and rage turned back to the attacker to finish him off before the guards showed up when he suddenly recognized the man. It was the ugly bandit that had attacked them so many years ago made even uglier by the broken nose Wulther had given him, compounded my the beating Otir had just unleashed. The bandit’s right arm seemed small as compared to the rest of the man muscles. For some unknown reason this recognition seemed to melt the rage inside the dwarf. He sat down on the floor beside his mentor’s corpse and awaited the guards.

The guard came and Otir explained what had happened. A guard smacked the maniac bandit into consciousness and asked him for his version. “He crippled me,” was all the bandit had to say, lifting his useless right arm up as proof.
And so it was that Otir Albino was on his own once again. But he did not take pity on himself, as he once had. His mentor would not have stood for that, and now neither would he himself stand for it. The dwarf set out this day to find new friends and experience the world his teacher left behind.

[darkstorme]

Hi there!

This is an excellent story - I just have a few questions before approval here:

Does he adopt the name Albino as a surname given his physiological condition, or is that an appellation assigned to him by others? Or does he use a different surname altogether?

Does Otir suffer any vision related difficulties due to his albinisim, as is near-endemic in those with the condition?

Finally, while Otir was taught the ways of the Father of Battle, what are his views on Vorax, given that he grew up initially in a society where Dorand would be respected over the traditional dwarven god?

As an additional aside, gold dwarves are uncommon enough that there are no exclusively dwarven surface-cities. Gold dwarves are clannish, but live with other races in a city. There might be a gold dwarf-exclusive village somewhere, but nothing that could be rated a "city" proper.

Once these questions and asides have been addressed, Otir should be good to go.

Thanks!

[PremiumBanana]

I meant to address the first question in my original bio. Otir was denied his surname by his father. But he adopted Albino as his own not long after Wulther befriended him and made him realize his condition was not as much a curse as he had been raised to believe by his father.

As for the vision problems: I was not aware albinos suffered from them. My only actual experience with albinos is with my pet hairless, albino rat, Mr. Wrinkles. But he is blind due to an unrelated health issue. Anyhow, after reading the entry on Wikipedia I would have to say it only makes sense for him to have at atleast some kind of vision issue. But I’d also rather not have my monk’s fighting hindered. So what say we leave it at light sensitivity?

Albino found the teachings of Vorax quite a relief from what he knew of Dorand’s ways. Having been taught no craft from his father (or anyone else for that matter.) Otir had little drive to please the god of his local kin. The fresh ideas of pleasing a deity with his body and strength of personality were very a welcome indeed. And he found the ideals of valor and bravery to be quite in line with his own moral code.

Lastly, I did not know Gold Dwarves did not have their own settlements. I could not find much in depth on them, really. But living in a Gold Dwarf community within a city of other races works just as well with me.

I hope this clears everything up. I am looking forward to checking out the world of Layonara, and trying my hand at role playing with you all.

[jrizz]

Thank you for the clarifications.
Your character has been approved.

Server address is west.layonara.com
Password is layoplayer

Some final notes on character creation:

• Please note that racial adjustments for players with subraces are skin based and thus get applied after getting in game.
• Only two ability scores can be less than 10 and only one can be less than 8 after racial adjustments
• Brownies, when selecting a head, the head you choose on the halfling selection will correspond to that numbered head for elves (for example, clicking right 6 times on the head selection during character creation will take the 6th head when clicking right on the elf creation)
• Half-giants and ogres, please ask for a GM (type /dm Anyone here?) if you would like to change to a custom skin.

Have fun!