Fjori stands 5’ 8" and weighs about 165#. His sandy blond hair is unkempt and down around his shoulders for extra warmth. His beard and mustache are barely “peach fuzz” on his face, but he is only 15. Hopefully it will fill in as he matures.
Fjori is also a little scrawnier than most, but every ounce is wiry tendon and muscle.
I am Fjori Kolsson, son of Kol Thorgeirsson a tanner, as was his father and his father before. I am not sure that I want to be a tanner, but I cannot tell that to my father.
Ever since my first memories of my mother reciting stories of great heroes and adventures I have had a thirst for more knowledge than just tanning hides. I wanted to learn to read and write, which drove my father crazy. I was not as strong as others in my clan and often came out on the losing end of fights. I developed a less reputable style of fighting to compensate for my weakness … again to my father’s dismay.
My main love was to learn stories, those of ancient heroes and far away places, of battles both won and lost, of everything that was not our clan. I was addicted to learning. I always wanted more. I would listen for hours to the men and the women as they told stories and tales. I would listen at doorways when nobody knew. I would usually not get get caught … but not always. I seldom, if ever, told anyone of the information I had gathered.
The best way to get my interest in something is to say that you can’t figure something out. I love to search out the unknown, be it histories, secrets or places. You would be surprised what people hide and where they hide it.