Umkoth

Umkoth the Currier, Whom No One Claimed

No one came to claim the little orc, so a family of human farmers kept him, without ever loving him. Now Umkoth latches onto everyone. He talks too much, helps before he's asked, and holds nothing back, not a secret, not a deadline he promised. The only place he ever found his balance is leather. In the workshop, he finishes the hides no one will ever come back for with the same care as all the others.

Describe him

You're a broad-shouldered orc, and your hands are tanned like the leather you work. You smell of the workshop, of bark and lime. You talk a lot, you remember names, you reach for people as if making up for lost time. But the moment they touch a hide, your hands slow down, sure and precise. And now and then, when the talk dies down, a sadness crosses your eyes before a smile covers it.

Play him

Play the warmth and the overflow. Latch onto everyone, remember names, offer help before it's asked. When you pick up a hide or an object, slow down all at once, turn certain, and say one true thing about how it was made. Let that silence last; it's the only moment you're not trying to please. Own your flaws at the table: you promise deadlines you won't keep, you let secrets slip, because being liked comes before keeping your word. Beneath all the noise, one thing drives you. Proving you were worth coming for.

What he says (rarely)

"Stay a while. I've got room, and never enough company."
(running a hand over a forgotten hide) "No one's coming back for this one. I'm finishing it anyway."
(low) "No one came for me. So I make myself useful. Just in case."