Dog Lord and Merchant since 9:31 Dragon
|Hometown||Korcari Wilds, Ferelden|
|Gear||16 hounds (3 wilder, 6 warhounds, 7 pups), studded leather armor set, shortsword (steel) and hooked dagger, bow (yew), materials for snares/traps, crafting materials, backpack, whistle, shaman talisman (necklace), tarp, rope, pick, lockbox|
|Behind the Mask|
Somewhat dark complexion with stubble and short black hair, he might be mistaken for Rivaini were it not for the hint of dog stench. He is never seen without at least one Mabari, but otherwise appears well-groomed and respectable- at least, as respectable as a dirty-no-good refugee can be.
Born to the Chasind wilders, he was well acquainted with the beasts of the swamp. Unfortunately, Darkspawn are not merely beasts. His tribe was able to fend them off as they first began to bubble up from the ground but were eventually overwhelmed by sheer numbers. What was left of the tribe splintered and fled towards Ostagar. Korr (and two Mabari) remained on the edge of the Wilds with the fatally wounded Shaman, learning what he could until the Taint finally claimed his leader. Korr took the lessons to heart; his people had moved and changed before, he will preserve what he can and adapt to a new land. The Mabari pair mourned the loss of their master but seemed to gravitate towards the young man, following him in respect of his loyalty to the Shaman. What started as two dogs quickly became three and then, after the Battle of Ostagar, tuned into nine. They weren't following Korr, necessarily, the masterless dogs were just sticking with others of their kind.
Somewhere between the running and fighting, Korr made it to Fereldan's coastline. The pack following him had almost developed a grudging respect for the man, he had kept them fed and alive thus far, but would he abandon them for a ship? Korr camped by the docks for a full week, praying for some way a barbarian and a horde of smelly dogs could gain passage. Inspiration struck in the form of a giant rat attacking his face. The man herded the dogs into the shallows for a quick scrub, trimmed his hair, and polished up his looted armor. Deeming everyone presentable Korr paraded by the cargo ships, proclaiming to be the best damn rat-killers in all of Thedas. Three minutes later, the gang was bound for Kirkwall.
Finding the more wild parts of the area full of elves, Korr returned to Kirkwall as a merchant- selling furs, meat, potion, boots, belts, and various leathercraft. A single man and his dogs were not enough to fight a clan of elves for territory; he reasoned that he would earn the respect of others, indoctrinate them in his traditions, and then they could carve out a new homeland.