TORIN - KILVIN
Details
Full Name: Torin Kilvin
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Age: 21
Height: 6'2
Weight: 180
Birthdate: 40 Searing 102
Birthplace: Middling village fifty miles outside Kalzasi
Profession: Runesmith
Housing: House adjacent to his Shop and Forge.
Partners: Aurin Kavafis, Sivan Sunrunner
Business: Kilvin's Forge
Titles:
Professionally: Master Runesmith
Noble Title: Sir
Factions: House Leukos
Fluencies: Common, knows trade talk in a smattering of others common to the area surrounding Kalzasi
Conversationals: Mythrasi, Valasrin, Synskrit
Ineptitudes: Kathalan
Appearance
At the juxtaposition between the clumsy child he's spent his life as and the strong adult his training and latent genetics are turning him into it's a toss-up which you'll see if you cast eyes upon him. With a frame that betrays his malnourished infancy to one who knows what to look for, but years of steady feeding are starting to fill him out. The days when he was the shortest lad his age in the village have left him too. The lad has bloomed into a tall, straight-backed youth that he would never have recognized as himself if he hadn't watched it happen one day at a time. Topping off with a set of grey eyes and a shock of blond hair that he doesn't seem to realize should be trimmed.
Personality
Torin was always a painfully shy, careful boy, and while he has realized that he doesn't need to flinch away from every hand raised in greeting any longer the caution remains. Due to his country upbringing, he is often unsure what the city-dwellers he now lives with are talking about and is more likely to keep his mouth shut than open it and feel like a fool. He keeps his head down(as much as one with his height can) and his nose clean. When he is alone with others of his profession he'll open up more speaking in a low, quiet way that draws others to listen, often to his own embarrassment. At the forge or with a piece of leather between his hands he will often sing to himself, keeping his rhythm between his hammer and his surprisingly sweet, clear voice.
SONG HERE
History
Torin was born in a small village some fifty miles outside the city of Kalzasi into circumstances not envied by any who knew them. His mother had been forced by her parents into an unhappy marriage as soon as she was old enough; unwilling to support her in their home of too many mouths. She'd become pregnant quickly and barely carried to term due to the back of her husband's hands and the heels of his boots.
Between the abuse and her youth, delivering the child nearly cost her life and rendered her unable to quicken again. The young mother loved her child with a ferocity the burned away any remnants of her own childhood. She did her best to protect her son and show him love, even as his father ingrained the lesson that he would never be worthy of it.
Mother and child shared a life of privation and mistreatment until, when the boy had passed his sixth year, his mother stole him away. Through the long night she ran with Torin's small hand clutched in hers. They traveled only in the darkness for three days until they reached a larger villager where there was a Runesmith of middling skill who'd been seeking an apprentice. Seeing this as the only option of a good life for her child, Torin's mother sold him to the man.
For weeks the boy was too afraid to speak or raise his eyes to the Runesmith or his wife, obedient in all things. As time passed and their kinder natures showed, he realized they would not harm him and began to open up. When he did well at his lessons the blunt but caring Runesmith would praise him, pat him on the back or ruffle his sandy hair. Torin grew to live for these small shows of approval and pushed himself to earn them in every circumstance. The Runesmith could not have hoped for a harder working or more faithful apprentice.
Years passed; the man and his wife began a family of their own, being blessed with several children. Torin knew he wasn't one of them and while he did not resent them he was always careful not to encroach on the family identity. He spent most of his time in the forge area, alone with the Runesmith while they worked. His admiration for the sturdy older man grew to a level the man might have found alarming if he'd been aware of it.
It might have been this hero-worship that led the lad to push himself to perfect everything he was taught but the Runesmith came to believe that the boy's innate talent far outstripped his own modest abilities. By the time the boy was sixteen, the man knew there was nothing else he could teach but much more that Torin could learn. He made inquiries in the city for a better teacher and when, some months later, he received a promising offer he paid for passage and what gear was needed to send the boy off.
When he was told of the opportunity Torin begged not to go, breaking down in a way his teacher had never seen before. Weeping and unable to eat, Torin promised to do better, to obey in all things, to work for no pay, if only he was allowed to stay. The Runesmith was astonished and sat him down to explain that he needed a better trainer and sending him away was meant as a gift, not a punishment. Still, the boy resisted, pleading. For months this went on until the Runesmith grew stern, insisting. Unable to stand the disapproval of the only person he'd even sought it from Torin relented and allowed himself to be packed up and shipped off to the Kalzasi.
He wrote home weekly of his progress and lived for the approving answers he received less regularly. His new master was hard but fair and he fit in quickly due to his work ethic and ability. His fellow apprentices respected him and, as he rarely spoke beyond what was needed, accepted him easily. Though none so deeply as to call him a friend.
Five months after he arrived in the city he got a letter from his old teacher's wife explaining that the village had been raided. While defending his family the Runesmith had lost his life. She wished Torin well and promised he would always have a place in her home but the news broke something fundamental in him.
Throwing himself even harder into his work, till there was no room for thoughts outside it, got him through the next several weeks. When he came out of the darkness he looked at his life and realized he'd never known himself outside the shadow of other men, one hated, one loved. He was almost a man now himself, with the prospect of a good future, yet had never imagined what it might look like.
What sort of man did he want to be? It was time he found out.
