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Page history last edited by PBworks 13 years, 9 months ago

Grenloke appears a warrior in his mid-twenties, likely originating from some distant northland settlement. Wearing dark tan studded leather armor, grey-blue breeches and a faded grey cloak, it is clear he is at home in the desert. Several small braids peer out from unkempt shoulder-length hair which he ties loosely in the back. Grenloke wields a great bastard sword at his side, with a broad flamberge-style blade, a blued cross-guard and black iron wire hilt. Tied with a light cord to his back is a great, heavy bladed spear also created in a flamberge-style. And concealed in his belt, behind his back beneath his cloak are a matching pair of large daggers, also fashioned in the flamberge-style with black iron hilts.


Grenloke learned much of his trade in the Ironbight rifts, helping defend iron gatherers from Khalikand from the predations of its strange beasts that roam those lands and its ravaging ironstorms. Grenloke’s skin has slightly greyed in years spent in the Ironbight and bears numerous faint scars across his body from the ravages of iron sands.


History: Very little is known of Grenloke’s earliest years, only that he spent much of his adolescence either stowing away or working for slave wages with various iron and water-gathering merchant bands in the Khalikand region. However, Grenloke’s ready wit and fiercely determined work ethic usually found a way to smooth over any ill-will he managed to garner even if it couldn’t entirely shake the feeling that there was something not quite right about the boy. And while his bright eyes and fair hair marked him as a distant northerner, he seemed eager to throw himself into the blistering deserts of the south, even as far as seeking out those who braved the perils of the Ironbight (where he had worked with Ginny of Four Crags for a time...) and the mysterious Whisperliths even further south.


Grenloke had taken to the blade at an early age and displayed an unusual aptitude for the heavier weapons often favored by warriors in the Ironbight. Discovering a passion for battle, he pursued it with such dedication it was not long before he was able to contract his own services out. Though honorable in his dealings and proven loyal to his friends, something dark lingered behind those bright eyes and wry smile. Something cruel.


Standing at the outskirts of Oddic’s Well, Grenloke puzzled over the events of the last few days. Gazing down at the faded bloodstains on his steady hands, he had felt no remorse, no guilt whatsoever over that terrible day in the Ironbight.


And that worried him.

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