Balkin, the Beorning

 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.