Varken is a tall orc standing at 6'2" and weighing 265lbs. He is bald with a large brown-haired beared that has been braided and unkempt for many years.

Varken was born beneath a merciless desert sun, among an orc tribe that had been at war with a neighboring human city for longer than anyone remembered. Raids, burned camps, and bloodshed defined his childhood. To Varken, the humans beyond the dunes were simply the enemy. He had never known anything else.

At eighteen, Varken marched into battle beside his father for the first time. It would also be the last. The fighting ended with his father slain before him and his tribe massacred. Varken survived only to be captured and dragged back to the human city in chains.

For the next seven years, he lived in a prison camp controlled by a cruel captain of the city watch. Varken endured hard labor, beatings, and humiliation, feeding the hatred he had carried since childhood. That hatred finally began to crack when another prisoner, a human, befriended him. When an opportunity to escape came, the prisoner helped Varken flee, risking his own life to give an orc he barely knew a chance at freedom.

Varken escaped at twenty-five with nothing but scars and a name belonging to a tribe that no longer existed.

For five years he wandered. He hunted, worked when people would have him, fought when they would not, and searched for somewhere that might accept a man with no people and no home. Nothing ever lasted.

Then the Ashwall fell.

Stories spread of a forgotten frontier reopened after a thousand years, and of Last Lantern, where adventurers, outcasts, sellswords, scholars, and wanderers gathered before venturing into the unknown.

Varken understood that kind of place.

At thirty years old, he turned east toward the Ashen Marches. He wasn't looking to rebuild his old tribe or avenge the dead. He was looking for something he had never truly possessed:

A purpose he could choose for himself.