Like most orcs, I was raised in nomadic tribe; ours dedicated to the Maiden of Pain: Loviatar. We were constantly at war with the other factions that made their home in The Sword region of the Anauroch Desert. We spent a good deal of time raiding caravans that came through, everyone taking much delight in the suffering of our targets.
I started training to be a paladin early, and quickly learned that I had a different view on Pain than the others in my tribe. I viewed it as a healing tool, hence my taking of the name Balsam. I remember clearly my father saying to my mother "A child doesn't learn to fear fire until they put their hand in it," and that stuck with me through my development. Pain isn't so base as to simply be a way to extract pleasure. It's more than that. It's the thing that helps us learn. It's the thing that teaches us what to avoid, or what you truly loved.
emsp;This didn't sit well with my peers, and they made that very clear, frequently with base, uninspired violence. More often, though, I was simply ignored. I ended up spending a lot of time in the makeshift stables, eventually raising a horse of my own since birth. Bean. She was my closest friend for so long.
Eventually I felt I needed to leave, so I started heading west. Stumbling upon a small, fearful little monk, Tzon, who got himself lost and dehydrated in the desert on some sort of quest to understand the world. We traveled together to Baladur's Gate where we could both get a fresh start.
There I took up street preaching. I'd shout my sermons in the square to any who'd listen and mostly got disdain in return. Nothing I hadn't dealt with before, but I HAD to continue. I NEEDED my scripture to be heard. Loviatar demands it, and I WILL be known.
Through my preaching, I befriended a local noble named Lady Cassandra Branwell. She was one of the few who was intrigued by my teachings. It really seemed like it helped her deal with all the suffering she had endured through her life. We eventually started doing one on one sessions where I was able to cover her ill-gotten scars with ones of her own choosing. Reclaiming the pain she had felt.
We started to hatch a plan to dispatch of her abusive parents, and ended up in a whole situation. Now I have a new tribe. We're still getting to know each other and finding our footing, but it feels good to have people to count on and who count on me. Any who cause us harm will soon learn the excruciating truth that you don't fuck with Balsam or the ones they care about.
Name: Balsam
Pronouns: They/Them
Species: Orc
Class: Paladin of Glory
Religion: Loviatan
Age: 26
Height: 6'9"
Weight: 250
Physical Description: Grey-Green skin with ritualistic scarification all across it. These scars are essentially spell Sigils to cast innate spells and abilities with. Brown eyes. Long, wavy black hair, typically pulled back out of their face. Muscular. Typically wearing BDSM inspired leather gear.