Jorgel Rykuh

Overview
Jorgel Rykuh is a 27 year old half Dwarf, half Elf who dwells in Port Solanaria, Bardonia in Rathnir.

Family
Jorgel's only known family was his alleged biological father, Hipps Rykuh. His mother is not known but Jorgel's genetics suggest she was an elf. Jorgel is unmarried and has no children.

Under the Surface
Hipps raised Jorgel for most of his younger years. He taught him the Tuberite way of life and frequently educated him on the history of Jorgel's town and nation. When Jorgel was older, Hipps took him to the town well. Jorgel was told to jump down, and he did as he was told though not completely sure why. He swam downwards in the well towards the light that shimmered at the bottom. That must be what Hipps was trying to show him. But the light from the torches in the caves below were blown out with what resembled a gust of wind and the caves were plummeted into darkness.

Taste of Blood
Jorgel threw himself out of the water into the complete darkness. He lay on his back soaking wet somewhere in Solanum's catacombs, and the dim red torches around him slowly glowed back to life. A rotten smell spread throughout the tunnels that Jorgel could not help but gag on as he got back to his feet. His blurred vision returned to normal, and he saw the hellhole he had fallen into. Chains hung from the ceiling and stains of blood painted the walls. He held back from throwing up at his grotesque surroundings until, amidst the stench, he smelt a pleasant smell, a smell he'd never known before. He instinctively followed the smell, making his way down the stone corridors, as he did so wondering what on earth had happened in the catacombs. Eventually he found the room which the smell came from, the floor had puddles of blood, and most disturbingly, an almost fresh looking severed head staring straight at Jorgel. His heart froze for a moment, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. He turned his eyes to a large cauldron, bubbling at the back of the room. A rich red mixture boiled away inside and a steam with an irresistible aroma was coming out. He approached the cauldron and took a wooden bowl from beside it, scooping out the soup.

Hesitantly, he sipped the mixture. The taste was better than he'd anticipated; it was perfectly sweet and bitter and was surprisingly complimented by the metallic after-taste. He stood for a moment processing the flavours of the soup, but it was then that his vision seemed to zoom in and out and a feeling of dizziness overtook him. He stumbled to the ground, shaking, and stared forwards as what he could only describe as some humanoid figure emerged from the cauldron.