Rogue Valley Rolemaster
Laalc stands almost six feet tall. He is heavily muscled with fair skin and black hair. His gray eyes burn with conviction and purpose.
Young Laalc grew up the oldest of a large family of goatherds in the hill lands surrounding the coastal village of Kraxinor. He spent most of his early childhood alone, watching over his family’s goats which provided almost all of their livelihood. Such a chore was not without dangers and on many occasion, it fell to Laalc to drive off a hungry wolf or other similar predators.
Such an upbringing made Laalc a strong, if introverted, young man, and he gained a reputation on his infrequent trips into the main village for his great strength. Few attempted to pick fights with the young goatherd, however, for life was harsh and most were too exhausted from their daily struggle for survival for such unproductive endeavors.
In addition to the normal struggles of a small village making a subsistence living, Kraxinor was often ravaged by increasingly frequent and violent storms which lashed the coastline. Raiders from Ulor also often targeted the village, taking what few supplies were left before moving on to richer pickings. It was often that Laalc and his family would come down from the hills to trade only to find the village set a flame and the streets littered with dead.
Seeing such slaughter weighed heavily on Laalc’s heart and mind. He couldn’t help but wonder who or what his village could turn to for protection against the savagery of the raiders, but there seemed to be no answer. The village had stood alone for as long as any could remember and all the other nearby settlements were in similar situations, too busy surviving to band together.
Then one day, when Laalc was 18, he came to town in the middle of a raid. He was surprised to find that the attack was being carried out by only five men. Nonetheless, the villagers, cowed and terrified by years and years of oppression fled or cowered before the brigands. Surprise was quickly replaced by rage and, filled with a sudden sense of dread purpose, Laalc charged the raiders, armed with nothing more than a shepherd’s crook.
The warriors were taken by surprise and the first went down with his head caved in. Laalc swiftly traded his staff for the dead man’s sword and took the second one down while he was still processing what was happening. The remaining three turned on the young Lotana and would surely have slain him then and there, they being seasoned warriors and he barely a man. However, the villagers, rallied and emboldened by Laalc’s actions rose up and fell upon the raiders as one, beating them with stones, clubs, and fists until little more than pulp remained.
The bodies of the dead men were burned and their gear thrown into the sea. All trace of their ever being there was destroyed lest the village be punished for daring to defend themselves. Laalc saved one sword and set of armor for himself. He knew that he could not stay with his people any longer. Something had to be done about Ulor, and perhaps…perhaps he could find some way to stop the raids….