Fasûl Hyringer

Fasûl was raised in a clan of goliaths within the Mountains of Angor, many relating to the ancestry of the cloud giants from Frokier-Toril. They stayed isolated in the wilderness, becoming connected with nature and fighting off monsters for survival. Some drifted into civilisation but nit many. Fasûl was trained in survival skills and knew his way around the rocky mountains and dangerous terrain.   Drifting in and out of consciousness, Fasûl lays on the hard stone floor of a cave with the howling of the arctic winds in his ears and the winter cold surrounding him. He's rudely awoken by one of his fellow tribe members, Chôgan, who kicks him in the chest yelling at him to get up in a frenzy. After refusing to get up, the tribe's leader Iltûmar comes over and despite his blindness, drags Fasûl up and slams him against the rocky walls causing gravel to crumble off. He shouts at him to get a grip because they're in desperate times and they need to hunt, no matter how futile it may seem. So Fasûl heads out with large furs covering him along with a quiet frost goliath named Wûlfgar   Fasûl fought alongside his brethren to aid the King of Vashnir and the high generals of Ravesh, tossing boulders into the goblin frontlines and using his druidic blessings to transform into a range of creatures to get the upperhand on their opponents. Many argue that the help of the goliath clans along with the recruitment of Dragonborn ultimately led to the victory for the West.   One fateful day, Fasûl was foraging outside his hut when a posse of Vashni soldiers appeared telling him he was under arrest for treason against the king. When they refused to answer his questions, things turned violent with Fasûl attempting to ward them off with his magic before being tranquilised and falling into a deep slumber… When he awoke all he felt was pain. He had flashes of vision of hot, arid air and laughter (or was it screaming). And flames. Then he fell into unconsciousness again.   He properly woke up in an unknown part of the wilderness, with a shrieking ache in his right arm. When he looked at it confusion overcame him - it was a cast iron gauntlet with a strange glowing red gem in the centre. The pain was overwhelming but more so was his realisation that this hulk of metal on his hand was preventing him from using his magic.   Fasûl became full of rage at the people that did this. He spent years searching for his tribe, all to no avail. With his magic torn away from him, his only connection left with them was inhibited. He tried everything: asking favours of secluded wizards, paying back-alley sorcerers, trying to tear it off with his hands and every piece of equipment imaginable but nothing. Not even a dent. He never really got used to the burden on his arm, and carried it along with his hatred for the military and royals. But eventually he was found by the dwarves of Goroth and became a scout and messenger in an attempt to quell his anger. That brings us to the present day, with Fasûl travelling to Sareth to deliver an urgent message to the Benjamin Greythorn I, Prince of Vashnir. When the town is ambushed by a goblin army, he joins a party of heroes to fight back against the threat of war and the rise of chaos, and for the chance of meeting someone who could help remove the gauntlet.