Rimo Brighteye

Rimo Brighteye

A Story by Purban

Character background for some warlock i made


Rimo Brighteye

A short Story by Ruben Potthoff


I am a mercenary. My father was a mercenary as well, and my mother worked on the field. I have no real memories of them though, as they both died when I was quite young. Apparently my father died an honorable death in battle, and when one of his good friends decided to go tell my mother about it, he found that the village had been attacked and pillaged by something. However, my mother had apparently hidden me quite well as I was only found by my father’s friend, a delightful fellow by the name of Arc, because he heard my crying while he was looking for my mother. Sadly, she was nowhere to be found and is thus presumed dead. Arc brought me back to the camp and I was raised by the mercenaries there. I had also been named by the mercenaries, as they did not know the name my parents had decided for me. They apparently just called each other by their first names so no one had any clue what my last name was. So much for an organized mercenary group. I seemed like quite the happy child with a certain hope in my eyes apparently, so they decided on the name Rimo Brighteye


As you might expect, a young dwarf does not have the strength to fight. Even if I had the ability to prove myself worthy in a fight, it would have been quite bad for the reputation of our group if it became known that we had young children on the front lines. Who’d hire a mercenary group like that? Anyway, I still had to earn my bread and I did that by being a scout. I looked for openings in an enemy keep, and even infiltrated some of them every once in a while. No one would expect a young little beggar of a dwarf to be part of the mercenary group that was hired to take over the keep. I lived quite a good life like that, it might’ve been better had I been born a noble or something but I ain’t complaining.


As you would expect from someone who is part of a mercenary band, at some point I had to take someone’s life. I was on a mission to burn some supplies of a group of bandits, since we were hired to take care of them and I was told that burning their supplies would weaken them quite a bit. As fate would have it, I was discovered by some drunk bandit and after struggling and fighting quite a bit, I managed to stab him to death with some dagger I was carrying. I may have been a ten-year-old little dwarf, but I was surprisingly well trained and the bandit was luckily quite drunk so I managed to take his life. This really did something to me. I had always known that our job was to take lives, but doing it personally was quite a big deal to me. It wasn’t even in a battle; I had just walked into his camp and murdered him as he was enjoying his night. It took me quite a while to get over that first kill.

Hero of War

A few years and a dozen kills later; I was finally a 16-year-old little dwarf and was allowed to participate in battles. You might wonder why anyone would be happy to participate in a war, but I was overjoyed because I could finally be of real assistance to my friends. It was a simple goblin extermination mission, and it really wasn’t that big of a deal. I did manage to kill quite a lot of them and the villagers who were being pestered by those goblins and saw the battle really praised me as some kind of hero. Besides the money given to us by the lord of the nearby city, the villagers also treated us to some nice food. The group was quite proud of me by now, and had fully accepted me as someone capable of battle.


“BuRn ThEm TiLL NoT eVeN tHeIr AsHeS ReMaIn” A voice resounded in my head. I looked upon the scene before me and felt nothing but hatred. “lEt YoUr HaTrEd CoNsUmE tHeM” A group of newer members had- “DESTROY” They had done such a thing to- “shAttEr” Their greed had caused- “bE tAkEn By AnGeRRRRRRR” Betrayed us for- “RAAGGGEEEE” Killed Arc- “ good GooD gOOd GOOD”


I left the charred corpses of the traitors behind, and made sure to bury the remains of my friends. Of course not our entire mercenary group had been taken out, but the people I had known since my childhood were no more. I decided to take a new path and forget about what happened. The voice remains lingering in my head, I guess it wants me to take lives. I don’t know if I should listen to it, but I think it has given me quite a lot of power. I have decided to travel around, helping other people. I won’t become like those traitors; I will definitely not let greed get the better of me. The burning hatred I feel will remind me of that.

© 2017 Purban

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Added on May 24, 2017
Last Updated on May 24, 2017
Tags: D&D, dungeons and dragons, DnD, dwarf



Almere, Flevoland, Netherlands

Just writing backgrounds for D&D characters more..

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