It is unknown where Myork was born. To be frank, it is little known about his life in general, sometimes feels like strangers know more about him than he does. The last memory he recalls is his travel to Oren. As bracket of inhabitants of the continent were drifting in the sea, he noticed that there would be no people he'd recognize from somewhere. So he didn't bother others with personal questions, thinking it'd be an embarrassment for him.
A decade has past. Myork grew up as a terrible-looking creature. Crookbacked anorexic figure with a massive burn on his face and shoulder. He used to walk around with a text of holy writings, which included texts of 4 scrolls.
People who had the unfortunate destiny to cross their path with him, wouldn't speak of him noble. Impulsive and doubting, always speaking about God and destiny. Fellow would irretate a lot of travellers with his preeching.
The fact that noone'd understand 30-something fellow upsets him up to this day. He waddles in the forests, hoping that one day he'd meet an individual that'll share his heavy burden of worshipping the Allfather.
*"Adventure? Wealth?", he asked the man, furrowing his brows, "That'd be something noone should wish for! Demons that are craving for excitement and easy life create the reality of greed! They create monuments of false Gods, reassuring mortals The Allfather needs a home in this doomed reality! Shook that things out of your head, brother. Come on, let's sit down somewhere nice. I think it's time He saves you."
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