Glorm Dwarvern Rogue (fighter/thief)

Glorm's luck has been the story of his life, good enough to bring him great fortune and luck, but somehow his fortune always seems to slip away in the end... Glorm was born the bastard son of Baron Glotock the chief construction engineer for the king and his winsome servant. Although a bastard, Glorm was aknowledged by his proud father, dwarven children being rare. He had great strength, a dwarven constitution, nimble fingers and amazing looks (which he would use to great advantage in his later years). He grew up around the other noble childeren in the dwarven caves, where he was teased unmercifully for his dubious parentage. As he grew older, he joined the dwarven "brat pack" living a fast life of brandy and hobbit weed. It was rare to find young Glorm without a snifter and stoggie or pipe of the finest, but as a bastard his income was pitiful compared to his wealthy friends. He had a particularly unarural love for Gems and Jewelry, only partially because of the effect they had on young Dwarven babes. To support his fast life, Glorm took up with a dubious figure Black Root, a dwarven cat burgalar. Glorm's amazing dexterity and reasonable inteligence made him a natural. He used his knoledge of archetcture gained from his father to thwart the most complex secret doors, locks and traps. He quickly gained the aka "shadow" for his amazing heists. But somehow his large new income was quickly taken up by his fastlane lifestyle, and he was trying more and more difficult "jobs". Finally, his luck ran out. He had just snatched a strange, almost glowing emrald set in a pendant from a hermit who lived near the dwaven stronghold. As he snuck away, he heard somone coming. He quickly slipped into the shadows, only to realize his stoggie was still lit and glowing like a beacon. Thinking quickly, he cast his feet dont fail me now spell. As he ran he dodged strange bolts of lightning. As he neared the cave's mouth he realized the only way down was a narrow series of switchbacks which he could not hide on. Thinking quickly he chanted a prayer to the dwarven gods and dove off the cliff face. He bounced his way down the rock wall, and the only thing that saved him was his tough dwarven hide, but alas, his amazing looks were gone for good. His nose was broken in 8 places, and he had a scar running across his face. Life would never be as good with the ladies. Upon returning home, Gorm starte hearing rumors that the hermit was asking questions... Realizing he may have bit off more than he could chew, Glorm slipped out the caves that night, leaving a note to his father that he would someday bring great glory to there family, but just now he had to leave.  

He joined a caravan as a gaurd and worked a trade run between the dwarves and a human settlement. It soon became obvious that "lucky" Glorm was a natural with the sword. He quickly moved up in the gaurd heirarchy. Realizing the error of his younger days, Glorm started saving his earnings, and only drinking second rate brandy. He was fealing quite good about himself on a return run to the dwarven stronghold, where he usually kept an understandably low profile, when he sensed something was wrong. Smoke was rising from his home. An army of ores had snuck in and looted the dwarven caves. Apparently somone had let them in the great locked doors at midnight. Many of the dwarves had survived, but Glorm's family was slaughtered. To this day Glorm hates ores. The sight of an ore sends him into a blind fury that nothing but orcblood will quite.

Realizing his life home was ruined. Glorm left the gaurd buisness with his nest egg and the strange pendant. He moved to a human town where he used his great accumulated knowleged to set up an import buisness for fine spirits and pipeweed. Once again luck was in his favor. The humans, who knew nothing

about the subtleties of this buisness were easy pray, and Glorm made a quick killing. His products were in much demand by the wealthy and powerfull. He made great contacts amongst the powerfull. But just when things were going smoothly he started having strange dreams. A few days later, he awoke to an erie green flash. His shop was on fire. He snatched up the best of his stock quickly stuffing it into a large sack, but the flames drove him from the building. Afterwards he realized it was almost as if a force were driving him along to some unknown destiny, but for the life of him he couldn't figure what it was....