Gunthur
Gunthur grew up in Orar with dirt under his nails and no taste for heroics, yet circumstance pushed him into leading Picton’s halfling militia. He’s a compact, sharp-boned fellow with chestnut hair and a steady gaze that rarely wavers, even when his unseasoned troops bungle a drill. His manner is plain and unsentimental; he dislikes speeches and trusts only what can be done with two hands and clear instructions. Though his “army” is mostly farmers clutching old bows, they follow him because he works harder than any of them, walking the fields each morning to check patrol routes himself. Gunthur isn’t driven by ambition — he simply refuses to let his home fall while he still has breath to hold a shield.
