Thramak Orrik

Built like a stocky iron bar with broad shoulders gone thick with muscle and age. His left eye is clouded white—a burn scar extends from brow to cheekbone on that side, disappearing beneath a close-cropped iron-gray beard flecked with ash-black. His arms are a map of old wounds: claw marks that never quite healed smooth, a deep slice across his left forearm from a skeletal blade, and burns scattered like pale coins across his knuckles and wrists. His hands are calloused and heavy, more hammer than flesh. He wears dented plate armor over a stained holy symbol of his order—the symbol itself looks melted in places, the edges warped from repeated exposure to flame. His hammer, a stocky two-handed weapon, has notches along the head where something's teeth left marks.

Spent decades hunting undead from temple crypts to plague-ravaged villages. Has walked through fires—both the divine kind and the earthly kind—as the only language undead understand. Each scar tells a story of something clawed, something burned, something that shouldn't have risen. He's made his peace with fire as a tool of purification.

Gruff and direct, no patience for philosophy or lengthy debates. Prays like he fights: without hesitation. Speaks in clipped sentences that cut to the point. His words are few but weighted. There's a grim humor beneath the surface—dark jokes about death and fire that only another veteran understands.

Sees undeath as an absolute evil that must be eradicated, leaving little room for nuance or mercy. Can be reckless when hunting his quarry, charging into danger without waiting for allies. Struggles with the weight of all he's seen—some nights the nightmares are worse than the battles.

Speaks in clipped, measured tones—economy of words. His voice is gravelly, worn from years of chanting prayers and shouting battle cries. When he speaks, people listen. He rarely raises his voice; he doesn't need to. Occasional dry, dark humor about death and undead. Uses old dwarven turns of phrase.

Driven by a holy calling to cleanse the world of undead abominations. Seeks to protect the living from horrors that prey on them. Wants to ensure that the dead stay dead and that no one else loses loved ones to necromancy's curse.