human male cleric of Kord


Mhoram grew up in the town of Blackrock, which straddled the line of two feuding nations. His father was a soldier in the local army and his mother was the daughter of a petty warlord who claimed allegiance to neither side. As a young man, Mhoram, no stranger to violence and warfare, joined the swelling ranks of soldiers that were mustered for one last strike into their enemy’s capital. Through that experience he discovered that he loved the soldiering life and quickly picked up survival skills. However, Mhoram found more joy in the taverns of his hometown and also acquired a reputation as a boisterous and violent drunk who provoked fights with anyone up to the challenge.

In the middle of the final battle with his nation’s enemy, Mhoram found himself surrounded by a squad of desperate warriors. Disarmed of his sword, Mhoram lashed out with the only weapon he could rely on: his fists. He fought like an enraged bear, and much to his surprise, he heard a jovial, thundering voice in his head giving him advice and encouragement. Mhoram rapidly dispatched his foes and dropped to his knees in respect to whatever had helped him. The voice identified itself as the god Kord and said he had found Mhoram worthy of His blessing. From that point on, Mhoram pledged himself to fighting in his god’s name.



Scales Of War rockfordDM