A broad-shouldered goliath standing nearly eight feet tall, with slate-gray skin marked by pale natural patterns across his arms and cheekbones. He keeps his black hair cropped close on the sides and tied in a short knot at the back. His eyes are dark and watchful, and an old white scar runs from his left temple to the edge of his jaw. He wears practical hide wrappings, a weathered traveler’s cloak, and a necklace strung with small carved animal bones.

Quiet, patient, and observant, Jorri prefers to listen until he understands the shape of a problem. He is gentle with animals and unexpectedly considerate toward nervous strangers. In danger, his calm becomes severe concentration, followed by sudden, frightening violence when someone under his protection is harmed.

Jorri was born among a highland goliath clan that measured a person not by how loudly he boasted, but by how much weight he could carry for others. As a child, he learned to cross scree slopes, read weather in the shape of clouds, and hunt without wasting a life. His first true trial came when an avalanche cut off a group of younger clan members from the main camp. Jorri reached them before the search party did, carrying one injured child on his back and guiding the others through a narrow ravine by moonlight. The clan praised his strength, but Jorri remembered the frightened silence of the children more than the praise. Years later, he left the mountains after finding signs that poachers and slavers were using old migratory trails beneath the clan’s territory. He followed those trails into the wider world, surviving as a guide, scout, and occasional caravan guard. His temper, once a source of shame, became a weapon he learned to unleash only when someone weaker was threatened. Jorri now travels to protect strangers who have no clan nearby, while searching for the people responsible for poisoning the highland springs and driving his clan’s game away.