14 March 966
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As a Norwegian in a strange land, he has all but the horned helm, and considered a viking by the commoners of the land.
Having been on the run for quite a few years no, Orin has a bit of a haggard appearance. His dark brown hair is long and cut to different lengths, though he takes care to rinse it often so it appears clean. He always goes to great lengths to keep his facial hair down to a minimum. Just because he is homeless, does not mean he needs to look like it.
In spite of his somewhat menacing 6'0, well-built body, and well worn clothing, Orin's brown eyes eminate warmth and compassion, even though most people would not bother to look.
Though he has no tattoos, the man has been branded twice. Once by his grandfather in the shape of a cross on his left shoulder blade and once by his Viking 'brothers' before landing on Britannia's soil - a set of four pine branches to make him as one belonging to Norway.
Living a life considered as a 'barbarian' in a foreign land, Orin would just just about anything to find his way home, though where that currently is is anybody's guess. No matter what he does to himself, the Brits he comes across always identify him as one of their enemies. Thus, the short temper Orin enjoyed for much of his life has been wittled down to where he can take just about anything from anybody. The only thing he will not allow is derogatory remarks towards his mother or his honor. The man will accept the barbarian term but he is not a coward nor a brute.
Orin enjoys dealing with animals. The occasional job he can secure these days usually relate to dealing with beasts of all shapes and sizes. he is especially talented with horses, though why is his greatest secret.
For the most part, the Norseman has learned that silence is his greatest defense. The longer it takes for people to realize his origin, the longer Orin can work and eat.
Orin was born in Bergin, Norway to Aksel and Sanna Dahl. Aksel was readying to take his first trip to Britannia as a Viking upon his first son's birth. The boy was barely a year old when his father left. Younger brother Oskar was born a few months after the Viking party's departure.
Being a faithful wife, instead of taking on another husband, Sanna returned to her family home where her widower father made room for her and the boys, welcoming them with open arms. He took everyone in, a woman to care for his home and grandsons to teach about his trade - horse flesh. Orin and Oskar were quite close, enjoying playing out in the Norwegian countryside though watched carefully by a man who would not allow them to be spoiled.
Orin was incredibly gifted taking care of the animals on his grandfather's farm, especially the horses that the man bred for those that could pay the price. His mother would joke that her boy could speak their language but the grandfather was worried that this was the truth.
The summer after he had turned 8, Grandfather found him out in the barn, seeming to actually talk to one of the beast. When realized that he had been caught, water poured out of nowhere onto the old man, as if to allow Orin time to escape. The next thing the young boy knew, he was standing out in a field a half a mile away...yet still sitting as he had been in the barn. Instantly, the young boy tried to find a place further to hide but everyone in the area knew him and the one that finally found him simply returned him home.
Though his mother swore that it had not been, Grandfather would hear nothing of the claims. As he had told his daughter before, this child was nothing of her blood...a dark haired, dark eyed thing that talked to horses and made things happen without moving? This was work of Álfheimr (the elf world). If they cared for the boy, the man reasoned, they would come to care for him. Otherwise, Grandfather would remove whatever impish blood consumed Orin.
Thus, he took the boy out and beat him soundly. When no one came to claim him or save him, Grandfather branded him with the symbol of Odin, claiming him for the humans, in case Orin's REAL people came for him. From then on, the boy was very careful to never again have anything odd happen...at least where people could see it.
Aksel returned upon Orin's 10th birthday, bringing presents for his family. And oddly enough, one for himself. A beautiful, dainty girl came with the Viking, having been 'bought' while in Britannia to be their slave. It was quite obvious that she was not brought home for housework, however. The only really good thing about his father's return was that the returning hero did not wince every time he saw his son, like his grandfather did.
After almost two years of preparing, Aksel was set to return to Britannia and this time, he took his oldest son. The quickly aging man was greatful to leave behind his newly pregnant wife and newly pregnant slave. It was time for Orin to become a man and Aksel figured that this 'short' trip would be just the thing. Neither of them knew that this would be the last time they would see their beloved homeland.
Before landing, all of the men along that had not been along before were branded with a circle of four different pine branches to symbolize their home so far away.
Landing on foreign soil with the merchants they were accompanying, the group of Vikings was set upon barely a mile or so from their boats by a band of knights who took them as invaders and sliced through them without questions. Orin was lucky that his father covered his escape but the boy that had become a man on the trip was stuck in a world that hated him clear to the bone. They did not realize that all Vikings were not marauders. They were missionaries and explorers and merchants...but the marauders were all that were expected.
At the ate of 13, Orin was completely on his own in a land where he did not speak the language. His only real skill was dealing with animals and managing a farm. But to get a job, he needed to speak the language. Every time he tried to mimic the words with his hands, they ran him off as a beggar, making the new man resort to less than honest means to keep eating.
Slowly, he forced himself to learn English the hard way. Though he never really fit in, Orin worked his way in - traveling constantly to avoid those that sought his barbarian hide and others who had seen what he could still do and did so when he thought none were looking.
Having reached the age of 24, Orin finds himself wandering once more after his latest master's wife saw him feeding the horses with means other than his hands - though how he did it, the young man still doesn't know it. He fears that the witch hunters are on his trail but after nearly breaking his leg trying to get away, the Norwegian cannot move as quickly as he needs. His hope to get lost in the next town he finds until the man is sure he has no one pursuing him.