Blackhat Goes Forth h4. p. Orrik Thutch was born in a wagon on the road between two elven strongholds to a lesser noble Eladrin diplomat and his terrified, but beautiful, half sun-elf wife. Minutes later the posse made up of his father's political opponents caught up to the wagon and promptly executed the young couple, tossing the bodies into a ravine. His fall broken by the lifeless corpses of his parents, an infant Orrik began his life in the pouring rain, in a ditch, covered in dust and blood. p. He was eventually found by some woodsmen, an emaciated toddler surviving on mushrooms and berries for nearly three years. The woodsmen, in awe of his survival instincts, raised him in their camp, teaching him the basic of language and an understanding of elven society. Working hard every day through his youth chopping lumber and hauling stumps, he grew to be a quiet, angry child – but also learned to watch, observe, and daydream. He learned to identify all the various plants and mushrooms growing in the forest – which ones were edible, and which ones were poisonous, and in part due to his skill he was brought to the town and apprenticed to the doctor, sleeping at night in the sheds of ever-changing foster families. He put his nose down and learned as much as he could about poisons, medicines, and their herbal or fungal origins. He learned much – but in part due to his lack of a common background with his foster families and his town, as a teenager he became determined to strike out on his own and finally live independent from the society and other elves that had taken him in. h4. p. His plan kicked off shortly after his 17th birthday – with the help of some enterprising pickpockets, Orrik managed to orchestrate the robbery of a diplomatic caravan headed to the capital with a load of gold, letters, and maps. After enlisting some other local rabble rousers to create a distraction, he deftly robbed the diplomatic strongbox and grabbed a few pieces of gold and some papers before being chased off and narrowly escaping the guardsmen with his life. Stealing a burro, he struck west through the wilderness fingering the shiny gold in his pouch. p. Emboldened by his first victory and the thrill of acquiring wealth, he used his financial windfall to secede from civilization – retiring to the rural woods for a decade to research and grow mushrooms in a retrofitted cave, only coming into town once a night for ale and dinner at the tavern, and monthly to sell massive batches of edible, poisonous, and psychedelic fungi of all sorts. Occupying his time with meditation, reading, alchemy, raising animals, and his mushroom farming, Orrik worked through his childhood issues slowly but surely while learning much about the world around him from tattered books acquired from travelling merchants and priests. h4. p. It was during this time, around Orrik's 20s or 30s, when the folk of the town down the mountain from his mushroom cave began to call him Blackhat – after the ubiquitous loose fitting black knit cap he was constantly seen in. Children from the village began to appear at the mushroom cave as stories began to spread about the strange Eladrin who came into town at nights, and over time Orrik became a valued member of the town and a regional institution, selling mushrooms to merchants, wizards, and peddlers from all over the valley. Eventually, as the operation grew and he became an expert mycologist, there would sometimes be several employees working in the caves or in the animal pens – at its height, the farm was home to 7 permanent workers and supplied five thousand bushels of mushrooms in one year to the small town, and its visitors and merchants. h4. p. The town grew and prospered – Orrik stayed aloof and spent most of his time in his study, lit by candle as he pored over texts or wrote his findings into red leather binders. One night, when orrik was particularly lost in his research a girl from the town noticed his absence and brought him mead and cheese. A few years later, bells rang out in the town on the summer day when Orrik wed the girl – whose name was Zoue – the elven daughter of the town cheesemaker. His elvish wife moved to the mushroom farm and with her, he sired twin boys and a girl over the next few years. Orrik was 48 when his daughter Ziara was born, his twin sons Odon and Olak were 3. Family life didn't last long, however: Orrik wanted to sell the farm and see some of the places and people he had read about in his years of solitude, and he had begun to abuse the mushroom known as "Snowcap", a psychedelic fungus grown on the underside of rocks. His thoughts, muddled by constant drug abuse, were continuously pulled towards the trauma of his childhood and places and people far away from his sleepy cave, and slowly but surely his domestic life disintegrated – his marriage was over within six more months, his farm and home given without malice to his wife and children who didn't seem sad to see him go. p. On his 50th birthday, Orrik packed his savings, a dagger, a bushel of Snowcap mushrooms, and the letters/maps he had stolen years before – then kissed his daughter and sons and left his small town, not quite sure where he was headed. h4. p. Alone, directionless, and addicted to drugs, his thoughts turned to deeper things. He questioned the meaning of life, his purpose, his past – and his mood turned dark the further he got from his quaint little farm. Disinterested and jaded, when he had run out of Snowcaps he began surviving by robbing caravans, the trick that had helped him so much in his youth. Eventually he had the process down to a science – ambushing, then meticulously picking over the entire caravan and its occupants without saying a word, daggers held to their throats and complicated traps poised to decapitate, poison, or impale the occupants. Once inside, his approach would change based on the occupants of the caravan – familes, women, children, the poor, religious figures – these would all get off a few coins poorer, perhaps, never knowing who the gruff dark figure was that let them on their way. Diplomats, soldiers, constables, and the like, however, would find themselves naked and bound inside a caravan hurtling down the road behind some spooked horses, or sometimes hung from trees – their documents stolen and their funds gone. p. This went on for years – Orrik was a one man wrecking crew, causing disruptions to the commerce and administration of the region. He eventually drew the notice of the local lord, after messengers carrying a treaty were interrupted and robbed during each of five separate attempts to get through. Orrik's days of self pity and lashing out at society quickly ended when a company of 500 knights, paladins, mercenaries, and squires laid his hideout to waste, burning the entire forest around it to the ground. Watching the flames destroy his shack from a nearby hill, Orrik realized it was yet again time to leave – this time maybe to the other side of the world. p. Will Orrik reunite with his children, now teenagers thousands of miles away? Will he succumb to the darkness that still resides within his tortured mind, where he can never quite shake the death of his parents? Will he let his addiction to psychedelic mushrooms unravel his life? Will he become the world's greatest robber baron? Stay tuned!
What you see is what you get: Orrik's Physical Description and Style p. Orrik is an Eladrin not native to the Feywild. His ancestry is 25% sun elf (Eladrin), 25% green elf (Elven) and 50% high elf (Eladrin) – so his hair is a dirty blonde, and his eyes (which do have pupils) are golden brown. Standing fairly tall for an Eladrin at 6'0", he is lithe and fair, with less obviously pointed ears and more humanlike features than most elvish races would have. He has a plethora of scars and tattoos, though none are visible in normal garb. p. Orrik is quiet sometimes, loud others – his personality is unpredictable due to years of drug use. He seems disinterested in almost everyone else, especially non-elvish women and government officials. Completely neutral in alignment, the events going on around him seem less important than his own story, which is never finished. Quick, agile, and smart, he is useful in a fight – where he can slice and dice a target with his serrated daggers, but also in other situations – he is an excellent liar, good at disguises, and stealthy. Years of living alone have honed his senses of perception and insight. p. Orrik dresses in black – he wears a simple loose knit cap, a black leather vest under a padded cloth peacoat, and simple breeches. His boots are iron toed black leather.