This is the second character backstory created for our One Ring campaign. My buddy used a heroic culture available to Kickstarter backers, the Beorning. Due to the rugged nature of the culture and their place of origin being the other side of the Mist Mountains, we tied elements of the Battle of Five Armies to the backstory. I also introduced elements of the campaign, specifically, the black Warg which is Ash in the Core Book setting. I'm also making Búrzgul, the Butcher, one of Bolg's sons.
Balkin, the Beorning
Almost twenty five years have past since the Battle of Five Armies was fought before the gates of Erebor, when the armies of Bolg, son of Azog the Defiler, were defeated by the combined forces of men, dwarf, elf and giant eagle.
Such an outcome was not assured. Bolg slew many and the orcs looked to crush all upon the mountain side. It was not until Beorn, the skin changer, in the form of a great bear charged the orc ranks and slew Bolg that the tide turned. Leaderless, the orc army broke and fled back into the holes of the Misty Mountains from which they came.
Many children of the Dalelands were left
fatherless. One such child was Balkin. His mother was resolute that the farm,
which had passed for many generations from father to son, would continue. But
the evil lurking within the Misty Mountains was strong. Soon evil things crept forth
once more from the dark places of the earth.
Balkin was not yet a man when Wargs
attacked his homestead, killing kith and kin. His mother hid the boy in the
cold cellar. But what use was a hiding place against a beast who hunted by
smell? A midnight black Warg, with a silver patch atop its head, caught Balkin’s
scent. Its jaws tore at the wooden planks, snapping and snarling, as Balkin
huddled in the corner of the cold, dirt floor with nothing but a stick to defend himself.
A primal roar shook the house as
a giant beast fell upon the Wargs in the farm, its maw and claws smashing bones and tearing
flesh. The black Warg turned to face the bear but was no match for the power
of the fell creature. Massive claws slashed across the Wargs muzzle, smashing
it against a wall. The maimed Warg fled. The great bear roared, asserting its
dominance.
The bear caught Balkin’s scent. It
sniffed the air, looked down into the hole in which Balkin hid and huffed.
Giant, intelligent brown eyes locked with Balkin’s before the beast turned and
left.
In the morning Balkin picked up a shovel
and buried his kin. A huge bearded man, might thews carrying a giant woodsman’s
axe, approached. “I am Beorn. Long ago, my family was also taken by evil things. Come. I
will teach you the ways of the wild, where you will live free.” Balkin went with
the man, hurrying to match pace with his giant stride. Through twisting ravines
and woods Balkin was led until he came to an open grassland. “As far as the eye
can see and further still, these are my lands. So long as you never act with
malice upon the creatures dwelling here, you may remain for as long as you
desire.” And so Balkin remained for many seasons.
Balkin learned much from Beorn. Others came
to live in the hills and valleys of his lands, men and women who had also lost
much and were filled with anger. Balkin learned how to live rough. And always
he sought word of the black Warg with the silver patch. And the years past.
Beorn came to Balkin on the winter solstice.
The crisp winter air biting with every breath, the stars shining like portents
in the cloudless sky, he came with the news Balkin long sought. “The black Warg
has crossed the Misty Mountains westward. It leads a pack. Come spring it will
be time for you to go on your great hunt. There is much we must do in
preparation for your departure.”
Over the days Balkin gathered his gear and
with Beorn forged an axe. As the winter snows melted Balkin set off west,
crossing the lands of Beorn, towards the Misty Mountains, the primal roar of a
great bear announcing his leave taking.
