Silvyr was born a small, weak albino orc in the Rexdom of Krugmar. Only cared for by her mother, she was left behind by the clans' hunters and fended for herself most days. This has turned her into a resentful orc to her kin with a soft spot for the finer things. She continues to respect her people for love of her father, Krug. She occasionally indulges in playing instruments. A mercenary for hire, traveling between nations to help people in need and doing honest work for honest currency. She has picked up a fair bit of common tongue and even though she was raised hearing and speaking the blah, she remembers little of it. She does enjoy learning but genetically, she is a bit slow. Silvyr will frequently visit between the Dwarven and Human nations in search of work. While she is orc at heart, ruthless and stoic, she also is quite understanding and soft. That is until her bloodlust kicks in due to her curse. At this point, she is like any other war-obsessed orc and struggles to restrain herself from honouring her father with sacrificing tributes in his name.
As her foot hit the dock with a dense thud, her body weight made the wooden planks groan. She looks out upon the festive bazaar, silently appreciating the diversity of stalls. With a moment of pause, she regains focus, walking along the dock and into the midst of the shops. She is taken aback by the man approaching her so suddenly and seemingly out-of-nowhere. After briefly inspecting the physical appearance of the man, she spoke with confidence.
”Good day.” She began politely, “I’m here to live. Help if I can. Do you need help?” Silvyr gave an awkward smile, her tusks poking through.
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