Biography for Quinn Orrin: Traditional Hin

[QuinnOrrin]

First Name: Quinn
Last Name: Orrin

Appearance
Somewhat gangly. Slightly above average looks, but mostly plain.
Race: Strongheart Halfling
Age: 33
Height 3'1"
Weight: 30lbs
Eyes: Green
Hair: Black, braided with green beads dangling down.
Facial Hair Style: None.

Personality Profile:
General Health: Fit, active. Drinks alcohol regularly.
Deity: Tymora.
Initial Alignment: Neutral.
Profession: Treasure Hunter, proudly
Base Class & Proposed Development: Rogue base. Fighter and Elemental Archer focusing on heavy crossbow later.
Habits/Hobbies: Talkative, inquisitive, steeped in 'tradition' as far as adventuring goes, loves to drink. Always introduces himself with his self-proclaimed profession, despite not having much success in the business.
Languages: Common, Halfling, Thieves' Cant, Elven, Goblin, Shaaran, Dwarf.
Weapon of Choice: Heavy Crossbow.


Background:

Quinn Orrin is a man of tradition.

His father, Taro, had grown up in a crowded city slum area, developing a thick accent and a love of crowds, activity and excitement. He later took to the adventuring life, discovering a deep fondness for treasure and an appreciation for cleverly acquiring it. Taro traveled with a small band of adventurers for nearly ten years, happily doing his part to support his friends and make some coins doing it.

Eventually he fell for a rather well-built Hin gardener named Damara in the quiet Halfling village of Gullykin, during one of his vacations away from the adventuring party. Like many adventurers who fall in love, Taro's will to do more than spend time with Damara faltered. The two married and had three children- Sasha, the oldest daughter, Quinn, our slightly-delayed focus here three years later, and Yollia, the youngest daughter, eleven years after that.

Life for Quinn was certainly pleasant. His mother was wonderfully nurturing and caring, his older sister was protective (if a bit teasing at times) and he had a cute younger sister who always made him laugh. His father, of course, was something of a hero in his eyes.

The stories Taro told young Quinn ignited a desire to see the world. He constantly begged his father to tell him more tales of adventure, treasure and heroism. Quinn studied all his father's tales until he knew them completely, marveling at the thought that such a life could be waiting out there.

Taro was sharp-minded- a trait passed on to his son- and could see exactly what Quinn was planning to do. Rather than have his son take off on his own one day, he purchased a good number of supplies and took his son on a week-long trip for his sixteenth birthday.

There he went over all the real details of adventuring. Let Quinn swing a sword for the first time, taught him about locks he'd have to get past, traps he'd need to outsmart and how folks would need to sometimes be misdirected to get what you want.

He quickly noted to his son that he'd never lied to his mother or anything, though. Ever. Nope.

As Quinn spent the week roaming the countryside with his father and picking a few small fights with the creatures around the area, he knew this was what he wanted. The feel of a sword in his hand, the gentle creak of leather on his chest and the weight of a pack full of tools on his back.

When the week ended, Taro took all of the supplies away and locked them into a closet. He set his son down and gave him one of the few serious lectures of his life. Adventuring wasn't all fun. People died. You get hurt. Sometimes you have to be ready to run or admit your failings. Taro understood all this the hard way, and wanted his son to be better off.

Quinn, not one to question the man he idolized, nodded and listened. He had a good life here in Gullykin- quiet, with friendly people. But it just wasn't the city that his father had talked about. It wasn't the ancient tombs filled with strange magic and piles of gold, just waiting for the right Hin to take.

It wasn't HIS life.

He knew his real life was just waiting to start up. He had time, though. Sixteen was hardly an age to get killed, after all, and he wanted to do it right.

He looked his father in the eyes, asked for the key to the closet, and promptly set it inside a drawer in his room. He wanted to be the one who held his life in his hands. Taro could only grin at the action, patting his son on the head.

That day marked the beginning of ten years of training and preparation. Sparring with his father, learning conversational tricks, picking locks that Taro would bring home, even sleepily attempting to disarm a trap on his door one morning... later finding his father quite amused when a pure-white Quinn informed him that the flour-bomb trap had triggered.

During all this time, Quinn did his best to listen to both his parents. While his father had been an adventurer, his mother had quite the opposite upbringing. It was her insistence on Quinn being brought up as "a good Hin," that meant he shouldn't just learn to stab things for gold. His mother had him work in shops, do deliveries, and even encouraged him to date the cute Hin down the street. She didn't want him blinded by adventure. His sisters felt similarly, often bringing him back from a lengthy daydream about meeting kings and queens or rolling in a dragon's treasure hoard.

Sasha braided his hair back in what she constantly noted was the "traditional male hairstyle," and told him to stop all that nonsense and quit leading on the girl down the street. Little Yollia would giggle as she helped her mother set the table, reminding Quinn that while gold was great, she thought people were what really mattered. They made sure he understood how important family and friends were.

Again, his life was good for Quinn back in Gullykin, dear reader. But a good life that isn't meant for you is hardly something you can stick with.

He was twenty-six the day he opened his desk drawer and took out the key to the long-unused closet. Quinn only hesitated twice before unlocking his life. The armor and sword were covered in dust, and a faded, folded note lie on the ground. Quinn picked it up, and opened it to find the following:

"Your life is yours to live, son. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."


Quinn put on the old armor and picked up the rusty sword. The pack of lockpicks, wrapped torches, rope, bandages and a grappling hook felt comfortable on his back.

He hugged his mother and father tightly, thanking them for everything. Sasha, newly married, plopped a cloth cap on his head and told him not to mess up tradition. Yollia packed him some food for the road and asked that he come back soon.

The cute Hin down the street was very annoyed at this point.


It's been six years since Quinn left, traveling the coast and even straying into deeper territories full of misadventure. Now thirty-three, he recently bought a map to what was supposedly a rather extravagant treasure... only to find himself looking at the entrance to Baldur's Gate. Cursing under his breath, he crumpled the fake map up, tossed it to the ground and went inside to find work.

Goals: To discover treasure, secrets and mysteries. Make a name for himself in the fields of exploration and treasure hunting. "Fame and fortune, as any proper adventurer should!" as his father might say.

Possible Plot-Hook Ideas and Misc Facts: Hero-worship of adventurer stories has him eager to follow all the cliches of it. Saving a damsel is on his bucket list, for instance. Nothin' is more important or appealing as unraveling secrets and discovering treasure, though!

Quinn has a close-knit family which he's very loyal to. He's from Gullykin originally but has been long removed from it, unfamiliar with the changes time has seen.

He's likely to rush into any potential treasure hunting job, and his natural urge to explore and solve mysteries prompts him to nose his way into anything he finds odd or unusual.

Fairly high intelligence, decent wisdom and charisma help him with social issues and conversations, so he's never shy.