Klale Tsolo

A quiet giant of a man. A blacksmith.

His farmer parents are larger than average, his two older brothers respected farmers, and his two older sisters are big-breasted and wide-hipped...born mothers, which they were. Klale was different, enough larger than other people that some wondered if giants lurked somewhere in the family's past. He showed no enthusiasm for growing things and had only a dutiful attitude toward animals. What he cared about were tools and what they could create.

He also showed no particular regard for the "rules" of childhood. He was more serious than most, he read whatever there was to read, and bullying...when a ring of boys were taunting him, working themselves up to show him that he wasn't so big, Klale kick to the groin got the ringleader's attention. A smack-push on the back of his skull brought him to the ground. Klale turned him so he could put a knee on the ringleader's throat. Klale looked around. "I fight to win. You all leave me alone; I leave you alone." Shortly after that he was apprenticed to Klurmun, a blacksmith.

In due time, Klale got along with the girls well enough, especially the curious ones; but it was a sometime thing. As is the way with some big men, reaching his full growth and coordination took more years than normal. Even now, Klale, is not quite in his physical prime.

Now Klale is off on a quest that is either epic or madness...maybe both. And his companions...assorted but they seem to go well enough together...like flowers in a bouquet maybe.

And what do they know of Klale. He has a sword, a hammer, a heavy crossbow issued to him, and a whip in the wagon he's never had occasion to use. A big man ready to kill but slow to harm.