Softecat

Lazmir is an old Goblin with a prosthetic leg and musty green skin. Due to age, all of his hair has fallen out atop his head. He stands at a measly 4’3 and exudes frailty, but even at his old age he retains his acrobatics, although this skill is a shell of what it used to be. Despite his small and weak looking frame, Lazmir is by no means a coward, but at the same time he must sadly avoid combat due to his old age. Instead, he relies on stealth when combat is needed. In his younger years, he was affiliated with Clan Raguk and worked as one of their scouts. When he became older, he decided to become clan-less for he wished to see more of the outside world, not through the filter of war, but in the pureness of peace. Thus, he threw himself into a barrel travelling down the river. Eventually, he found himself ashore in the riverbank a couple miles away from Marina. From there, his journey through Atlas began. Time clasped its hands on his shoulders all the way through, but he never faltered despite his life fleeting with such a hardy life. Now that he is an old hermit, he has taken on the role as a mentor and trainer to those who have been outcast by society, forming bonds with outlanders whom will fight on his behalf. He lives alone in a cave, for he is a clan less hermit totally self reliant and often lets fate dictate his actions. His most recent venture has had him found a young orc named Haz (aka Milliancole, my irl friend), who ran away due to fear of being culled. Lazmir decided to intrude upon this boy’s life, and what happens now is a mystery only time can tell. Will Haz become a mighty warrior of legend, or will he become yet another faceless Orc left dead in time? His fate is left in Lazmir’s hands.