Lorn

A warsinger, Lorn has known his share of battle. Where his cousins and friends used their teeth and claws to survive the Scarred Wasteland, Lorn used the gift he was born to: music.

Lorn's voice has the rare ability to carry magic on the notes he sings. He can heal, harm, strengthen, and weaken his listeners, all depending on the notes, the phrases, and the songs he sings, as well as the way he sings them. He has healed the nearly-dead and brought his foes, feverish and weeping, to their knees. His is not a skill to be trifled with.

Lorn has studied long and trained hard to ensure that he is in peak condition. Once, he was only able to persuade another with his tunes. Now, however, he is able to grant boons or enact a geas most foul, depending on his needs. He is known to nearly dance through a fight, keeping time with tiny bells around his ankles and keeping tune with a lyre he otherwise hangs from his hip. His deep voice undercuts the fracas, rolling beneath the sound of claws, blades, and flesh striking flesh, ensuring that all with the ears to hear will be affected.

Many around Oakrest do not expect the minstrel of the Little Acorn Inn to have so bloodied a past, but Lorn sees his history as one that built character and brought him one more day to live. Though sometimes his voice causes others to lose themselves in sorrow, he now prefers to use his talent to comfort and soothe the hearts of his listeners.

Despite his past, Lorn in no ways celebrates carnage. Some look at the Abiding Boneyard and think there is nothing there but iron and salt, blood and tears. But Lorn knew good times there as well. He left only to see the world and know his fortune. After he had wandered a while, Dragonhome called him more than anywhere else with its warm people and terrible weather. And Oakrest, with all its unspeakable horrors, called him loudest. He is sometimes found venturing to the cliffs above the northmost seas. There, he says, it is nearly like the banks of the Wyrmwound. This place is close enough to home.