Glodthor Kathos

[Glodthor Kathos]

Glodthor Kathos

Details
Full Name: Glodthor Kathos
Race: Mortallen, Earth
Sex: Male
Age: 27
Height: 8'6"
Weight: 468 Lbs

Birthdate: 93 as Rime
Birthplace: Mother Mountain, A Village in the mountains north of Kalzasi

Profession:
Housing: A small cave in a large mountain near Kalzasi.
Partners: None

Titles: None
Factions: Kith and Kin

Fluencies: Tallenese, Common
Conversationals: None
Ineptitudes: None

Appearance
A great specimen of the largest of the Mortallen earth clans Glodthor stands Tall and proud. His flesh toughened like leather by the sun and the harshness of his mountain home. His hands are covered in the scars documenting a reckless childhood, the tip of his right pinky finger is missing after the knuckle. His eyes like all Mortallen betray his elemental origins and are the dark color of river stones with veins of emerald flowing within. They lay beneath a heavy brow adorned by dark bushy brows that furl with his emotions. His nose is wide and often rosy from the cold, his lips are thin and often betray his emotion with his brows.

Coarse and wavy hair runs to his shoulders, joining into a full beard that wreaths his face like a mane of tangled branches stripped of leaves by harsh mountain winds. The rest of his body is similarly covered in coarse dark hair, even to his hands and feet. While perhaps not yet bulging with musculature his body is toned from good work and good eating, his posture is rarely good however due to years of having to stoop even in Mortallen made caverns often enough.


Personality
For Kith and clan, for blood and oaths, To our Kin we bear our throats.

There is nothing more important to Glodthor than his family and the continuation of his clan. Beyond that he shares his clans deep appreciation for all life, the ability to work with nature and not against it. Winters stuck inside the caverns with his clan taught him the importance of patience, and the strength that family has when united. He had been hungry, and had seasons where he'd been able to put on fat, and through it all he'd had his clan.

This has shaped him into a proud man, with perhaps a narrow view of the world and how one should live. He is not without compassion, easily swayed with a convincing story that pulls the right heartstrings. He has a strong sense of morality instilled in him and will act upon it more often than allow himself to be slighted.

Glodthor has not met many people outside of his clan and even less of those have been non Mortallen, while he is aware of the existence of the other races it is for the most part dimly and tinged with curiosity.

SONG HERE

History
Kral Kathos

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It all Began with Kral Kathos, Your grandfather of ten generations past, spoke Glodthor's Father. “he carved out most of the halls in this great mountain we call home with his own hands. All those borne in these caverns share his blood.”
"Long before the Age of Stone, Kral Kathos made a name for himself as a warrior who'd fought in many battles and was respected in both Mortallen and Orkhan Kingdoms as a good ally and sour enemy. It is said, however, that those who live by the sword will find death by it, and while Kral knew that such a death would find him he did not desire such a fate for his progeny. So at an earlier age than of his comrades he withdrew himself from the world and sought out a home that his family could call their own for generations to come. Vowing from then on he would only go to war for his clan and home from then on.”

"He found this place in the form of a small cave within a mountain. Over the course of several decades he swung pick and hammer, tapped chisel, and filled the hearth, ever expanding his mountain hermitage. It was not a life without woes ,however, and death sought him ever with the blade he'd lived by for so long. Enemies of past wars and trophy seekers alike showed themselves with the years, seeking his head. For many years he resisted, but he knew that they would still come so long as he lived. With that ever in mind, Kral dug ever deeper into his mountain, now joined by sons and daughter and soon their sons and daughters, fighting off what came but otherwise living peacefully. It was in one of these battles that Kral finally found defeat at the hands of an opponent he'd met what seemed like many ages ago. Both of them were gnarled and gray but the scars of the past seared too brightly to be ignored and so they fought. The battle was bloody, but Kral was able to slay his old foe at the cost of a mortal wound to himself and the dreadful realization that he had made a foe of Loshor's dark following."
"With what little time the apothecaries and healers were able to give him, it is said Kral marched toward the home of his enemy with his eldest sons bent on destroying the place where there vile cult lie. Kral nor his sons never returned from this venture.

His mountain hall still stands, left peacefully in the years since his passing with his clan carrying on his peaceful ideals of peaceful isolation and only taking arms when forced to defend themselves. They enjoyed the fruits of their forefather's labors and dug ever deeper into the mountain, only ever leaving to find spouses, a practice that some elders have called for an end to as the clan grows. Thus Kral's clan lived, flourishing in their mountain home."

Mountain Mother 96-107 AS

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Glodthor's earliest memories are his mother and grandmother's voices humming lullabies and caring for him near the warmth of their hearth. From an early age he was saddled with chores, his favorite of which was helping his mother bake bread as she would sing...

Fresh baked bread is a Mortallen treat,
Oven filled with love warmth and wheat,
Pound the dough and let it rise,
And soon you’ll grow a big surprise,
From the water, flour,and yeast,
Yeilds a great golden feast.

And so she gently passed on her wisdom in song and rhyme so that they might settle in his heart and aid him as he grew into a young man. As he grew his clan kept a boisterous yet dignified existance, many of them achieving success in farming within the caves or on the mountain and around its base. They say it takes a village and in and by one was young Glodthor raised, the safety the clan offered in all of its members being family by some extent allowed him freedom to roam and play with his peers in a safe environment that allowed them to explore and take risks within reason.

In his sixth year Glodthor was dared to climb to the top of the mountain cause everybody in the clan did it. Dumbly taking the dare he tried to scale to the peak not knowing the paths his elders used to avoid the sheer mountain winds. He'd barely made it halfway up from the landing to the clans caverns when a sudden gust sent him tumbling back to the earth, and tumble he did, breaking an arm and a leg in the process even in spite of his earthen Mortallen fortitude on the harsh mountains face. The pain of seeing his mother and grandmother's teary eyed faces at the thought of his perishing had been far more painful in his memories than the broken bones.

So in love and supervised recklessness the Young Glodthor was raised learning the values of his clan and the limitations of his flesh. He quickly began to grow taller than his peers as his years stretched on and he would soon begin his clans right of passage to manhood at their fourteenth year. By the time he left for the camp at the foothill of the mountains he was already cresting seven feet in height, and filled with cocky pride that such an age does supply.

The foot of the mountain. 107-110

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His early teenage years were spent under the watchful eye clans militia. The Kathos clan does not press any of their own into war or into guard duty for that matter, they do believe however that all Kathos should be able to defend themselves and too that end they all spend three years under the watchful eye of the small standing militia they do keep, as their double duty in times of peace are to educate on the arts of war and survival.

To that end young Glodthor trained with his clan brother and sisters each of them having to choose a weapon to attain at least a minimal level of skill with should they ever need to defend themselves. It was here in this camp-esque dorm where young Glodthor discovered some of his first passions, First came fire. Fire in the caverns was always kept small, only for cooking, never for heat as the caverns held a cool temperature year round. At the base of the mountain however, nights were chilly and their furs and cabins were only so much protection.

On that first year Glodthor took the role of his cabins fire keeper, there with five other of his clan-kin whose lives could very well depend on his ability to keep a good fire going. For long hours he would sit and feed the flames appreciating their warmth and the way the fire flickered and danced. He marveled at how with a breath he could bring life back to smoldering embers lying in the ashes when he'd slept to long and let the fire die. As strong as he was he was unable to escape a trouncing from all five of his frost covered cabinmates. He took it in stride though, learning to appreciate the harshness of the outside, and how nice they had it within the caverns. With his responsibilities as fire keeper becoming serious to him, he chose to wield the ax. The chosen tool and weapon of Kral himself.

He found the chopping of trees and preparing of firewood almost meditative in between his classes and physical training at the foot of the mountain. He grew stronger and ever taller as the years grew on ever cockier as well, in his last year of training he boasted he could best three of his peers at once easily, and of course disbelieving him his peers rose to the challenge. The Mortallen are hearty people, those of the earth clan especially so. Blades find it difficult to pierce their flesh and blunt weapons all but bounce off. They can still be cut, Glodthor learned this when he tried to block a sword with his hand. This lesson cost him the tip of his right pinky, and a fair bit of pride. His recklessness had again caused him injury, something his young mind still wanted to refute. When it was his time to return to the mountain he was in his seventeenth year and stood at eight feet tall, still not yet fully grown.

Earning one's keep 110-120

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In his early adulthood Glodthor found himself drawn towards the tannery. It seemed honest work and learning to make his own leather and clothes seemed wise at the rate he ruined such items in his stunts. From slicing the flesh from hunted and farmed beasts alike, to making the frames on which to tan such hides. His people were holistic in there hunting approach attempting to use all parts of a creature, the bones finding use as some jewelry and often bonemeal for their cavernous mushroom farms. The work was in a way calming for the intense half-giant. It was one of the few things he found that allowed him to sit for long hours when his frame often called for movement. The cutting of cured leathers and furs to a pattern. Measuring, punching holes. Watching a project come together. It was not until his third year as an apprentice that he was allowed to stitch something together. In this year he learned to appreciate the delicacy with witch the master could sew with needle. By the end of his fourth year he could somewhat hold a pattern with large leather thread and reinforced holes. By his sixth year he could finally complete simple projects on his own. Cloaks, straps, and other mundane leather items became chores for him. He learned how to tan and layer harder layers and began simple leather armors. In his seventh year he began to yearn for the outside more and more, he could feel that he couldn't live a simple craftsman. In his eighth year he had accomplished most simple tasks in leather working, enough that he'd gotten an offer of employment from the local master who would continue teaching him. In his ninth year he'd still failed to tell anyone what he was going to do after his apprenticeship was up the following year. His dissatisfaction seemed to grow as did his lack of enthusiasm for this line of work. He cared for his clan and family, and felt bad to turn down the masters offer, but he knew it was not for him.

In the Tenth year he said goodbye with a small letter. Packed what things he had, and left.

To be the next great Kathos.

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There is a loneliness to the open road. A strangeness in being greeted by stars when one looks up at night rather than a worn cave ceiling. The Half giant trekked onwards his home mountain growing ever smaller to his back as he trekked. The first day he traveled to where he could no longer see the mountain was a difficult day. He had never gone somewhere he couldn’t see the mountain. The loneliness that consumed him then was a far tougher obstacle than he had ever expected.



Even still the man marched on looking for a place to call his own. He had heard tale of a place called Kalzasi, his people had traded for goods whose origins had been thus. The traders spoke of the city rimmed with mountain and sea. Glodthor believed such an overlook sounded promising so he set for the city, the fist stopping point on his journey.



Walking down the roads towards the city he wondered as game trails turned to dirt roads that widened and widened, evidence of carts and carriages whose tracks furrowed the earth. Slowly he began to encounter other travelers, all for the most part smaller than himself. The eyed him with a cautious wariness and he did little to dissuade them with his stunned silences. He had known the world was filled with those who were not Mortallen but encountering them was still a shock to him. He wondered how people so small must operate in such a dangerous world.



As he approached the city proper the traffic became nearly overwhelming for the clan raised mortallen, he’d never seen so many people in all his years, and to not see a kindred face of a clansmen anywhere in site hammered home the face that he was on his own now. Pulling his pack tight to his shoulder the Half giant stepped through the gates of the city and started his life anew.

[Glodthor Kathos]

S K I L L S

Skill	Skill Level	Proficiency
Leather Working	25/100	Apprentice
Axes	20/100	Novice
Survival	15/100	Novice
Hunting	15/100	Novice
Body Building	15/100	Novice
Mining	10/100	Novice
Trapmaking	10/100	Novice
Carpentry	5/100	Novice

Thread	Points Awarded	Points Spent	Running Total
Cs approval	+15	10 Trapmaking 5 Carpentry	0
None yet	+0	0	0

[Glodthor Kathos]

K N O W L E D G E

Lores

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Leather Working: How to cut Hide from a body
Leather working: Basic Hide Preservation
Leather working: Winter Cloak Pattern.
Leather working: Hide Boots Pattern
Axes: Proper Axe head sharping technique
Axes: The Axe Cleave Flesh, Chop wood.
Body Building: Rest and work in equal Measure.
Hunting: Move less, watch more.
+3 Cs approval
Trapmaking: Deadfall traps
Trapmaking: Deadfalll Spring trap
Capentry: Sharpening wooden Spikes

[Glodthor Kathos]

I N V E N T O R Y

Items
1. Migrant Package

• 1 Large Tent (4 people)
  1 Large Tarp
  50 ft. of hempen rope
  1 lantern (complete with oil)
  10 torches
  1 Bedroll
  1 Blanket
  1 Horse
  1 full set of tack
  A set of large saddlebags

Housing
A tent at the moment, Intent is to briefly live in and around Kalzasi before Glodthor makes his cave house which is the goal of his first season.


Ledger
1. Starting Gold, +100/500 gp.
500 gp Total.