Full Name: Torin Leafhome
Age: 21
Class(es):Ranger (favoured enemy orcs), (Animal companion dire wolf when available)
Race: Halfling
Subrace: Lightfoot
Alignment: CG
Deity: Katia
Bio: Torin's small clan dwelt on the west coast of Mistone near the broken forest. His father was a strong halfling warrior by the name of Robert, he died of a mysterious illness when Torin was young. His mother was Wendy Leafhome, the clan story teller; a powerful druid and shapeshifter, she protected and nurtured her small community. Wolves hunted for them, the birds warned them of potential trouble, and they continued their idyllic existence by the sea, without worry and protected by his mothers power.
Leading this fairly idle life, Torin and his young friends would often go into nearby settlements in search of mischief and fun. Their boredom led them to harrass shopkeepers and taunt villagers, many broken windows and missing pies can be attributed to him. The valuable hides and skins he brought from the forest gave him plenty of money to spend in the human towns. Wenching and carousing became his favoured pastimes. Being of (what he considered to be) noble blood, he held clumsy humans and gold obsessed dwarves in low regard. Elves he admired, respected and envied, rare as they were in those lands. He would often sneak into taverns when an elf was in town, and eavesdrop on their conversations and tales.His mother doted on him, teaching him as much of the natural world as she could. She taught him respect for nature and how to converse with animals, skills that would serve him well in the strife to come.
Torin had heard a famous elven bard was staying in Fort Hope, a settlement a couple of days travel to the south, and he had decided to go alone to see him and try to hear his lore and tales of far off lands. It was during this visit to Fort Hope, on the other side of the broken forest that disaster struck. The Leafhome clan had been moving to a different location in hopes of better hunting, when they were attacked by a large tribe of nomadic orcs. Unprepared and outnumbered, they suffered heavy casualties. His mother assumed the shape of a giant wolf, and by all accounts fought valiantly against the goblinoids. Eventually she was lured into a trap, captured and subdued by the orc's shaman, while the rest of the Leafhome clan scattered into the forest. Torin arrived at the clans supposed new home to be greeted by a handful of survivors hunched over a campfire. With his mother gone, the animals they depended on had turned on them, and they were afraid to move through the now dangerous and hostile forest.
Torins eyes glazed upon hearing of his mothers capture, and he vowed to track the goblinoid scum to the ends of the earth if need be. Although still considered a child by his clan, his mothers power dwelt within him, and he ran headlong into the forest. The savage bears and wolves saw the feral bloodlust in his eyes and fled before him. He quickly picked up the orcs trail and headed north, with the remaining members of his clan in tow.
For sixty days the remnants of the Leafhome clan shadowed the orcs, harassing them and slowly whittling down their numbers.
For sixty days he was forced to watch his mother from afar, still in wolf form: caged and bound, slowly waste away.
For sixty days, his vengeful anger grew, until the remaining members of his tribe had to physically restrain him from charging headlong into the orcs encampment.
Meanwhile, the orcs had (somewhat understandably) grown tired with getting arrows in their backs and shortswords across their throats while they slept. On the rough, rocky shore of lake Alon, they made camp around a wheeled cage containing the great wolf. They shot the great wolf they had captured with arrow after arrow. Her mighty howls echoed through the narrow, tree-lined valleys around the lake for 10 whole minutes.
Torin went into a frenzy and charged headlong into the orc encampment before his comrades could stop him.His clanmembers hesitantly followed behind. Orcs gasped with surprise before grabbing weapons to strike him. But Torin was too quick. Orc archers appeared from the surrounding rocks and launched deadly volleys of arrows at the dozen or so halflings that remained. The orc chieftain stood on the rocky shores of the lake, grinning triumphantly as Torin's tiny halfling legs propelled him down the steep slope and flung his tiny frame straight at the orc's throat. The orc was still grinning when Torin's leap carried his tiny halfling sword straight into the neck of the huge orc.
Black blood spurted over him, and he felt himself grabbed around the neck and flung through the air. He lost consciousness just as he hit the cold water of the lake.
Torin regained consciousness what could have been days later, on the northern shores of lake Alon. He immediately dragged his aching body south to the site of his encounter with the orcs. He soon wished he hadn't, so many corpses greeted his eyes. The remnants of the Leafhome clan had done themselves proud, their corpses occupying a small area surrounded by at least two score slain orcs. It seemed the remaining orcs had fled south, back into the depths of the forest. They didn't concern Torin now. He remained on the south shores of lake Alon for several days, burying his dead comrades and mother in a small grove, which he consecrated in Katia's name as his mother had taught him. Seeking advice and solace, he headed to Hlint, the nearest human settlement, to drown his sorrows in some cheap ale.
Grief wracked, Torin now searches for answers. He refuses to accept that his mother can be gone forever. He believes he may be able to contact his mother from beyond her shallow grave. In Hlint he awaits anybody willing to track and kill orcs, as well as wise druids and rangers who might be able to instruct him in how to finish his mothers teachings and better commune with nature, maybe even summon his mothers spirit.
Examine Description: You see a halfling, well muscled and broad shouldered by his kind's standards. He doesn't smile often and his gaze is wary, but bears no malice. He seems somewhat distant and detached from reality. He is muttering under his breath about something. The only words you catch are "Orcs", and several curses in elvish and common.
You know what? I REALLY enjoyed writing that.
EDIT: Are orcs goblinoids in terms of nwn ranger feats? Can't remember. All the same scum to Torin anyway, they killed his mum, y'know.
Torin Leafhome (halfling ranger) 
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