🔥 Appearance

Orlin stands a towering 6'6", his scales a deep ember-red, patterned with golden streaks and mottled highlights that glint like veins of molten ore when struck by light. His horns curve back and slightly upward, burnished dark bronze near the base and brightening to gold at the tips.

He wears a layered crimson cloak over practical, scale male — battle-worn but maintained — with arcane sigils subtly stitched along the seams, though since the loss of his company, he's fogon his armour.

His eyes are a smouldering amber, their faint inner glow hinting at the fire that flows through his blood. When he exhales in frustration or battle, a thin wisp of smoke curls from his nostrils.

⚔️ Background

Orlin was never meant to be special. He was simply a disciplined rank-and-file spearman in the Golden Scale Legion, a mercenary company of dragonborn who fought for coin and the steady comfort of orders. He marched, he held the line, he followed commands. No glory, no command — just the promise that if he did his part, the company would survive.

That promise burned away on the Ashen Ridge.

While guarding a volcanic pass, a young red dragon unleashed an inferno that wiped out his entire company. Flames that should have killed him instead awakened his latent gold-dragon bloodline: molten-gold veins cracked open across his ember-red scales, his breath became a weapon, and raw sorcerous power surged through him for the first time in his life. When the dragon finally fled, Orlin stood alone among blackened bones and scorched insignia. He was the last man standing.

Haunted and alone, he wandered the endless plane carrying only his old spear and the scorched insignia of the Golden Scale Legion. The uncontrolled fire inside him burned too brightly. A Fiend noticed that blaze and offered a pact that felt like redemption: “Let me give you the discipline your company lacked. Master the fire that killed them, and you will never stand alone again.”

Orlin accepted. His old spear now ignites with golden draconic fire and infernal runes whenever he calls it. A shield bearing the Legion’s scorched insignia appears beside it. The power feels like purpose… but only time on the endless plane will reveal the true price.

🧠 Personality

Orlin embodies a blend of discipline and restrained fury — a soldier’s stoicism hiding the constant pulse of draconic temper beneath.

Traits:

• Speaks plainly and directly, with measured authority.
• Keeps a soldier’s order — sharp blade, polished gear, and strict watch rotations.
• Has a habit of staring into campfires too long, lost in thought.

Ideals:

• “Strength through control — the fire within is both weapon and test.”
• “Order is not obedience. Discipline is self-forged.”

Bonds:

• Feels a deep loyalty to his party — once he fights beside someone, they are his company.
• Keeps a scorched insignia from his old mercenary banner as a reminder of failure and survival.

Flaws:

• Distrusts authority, especially charismatic leaders.
• When enraged, his restraint burns away, and he risks losing control of his power.