Ior is not a young man anymore. His face is wrinkled and his skin parched from countless years of outdoor work. It is difficult to estimate his age, but most likely he is somewhere in his early 50s. Despite his age Ior seems to be in a good physical condition, with his arms being especially well muscled.

Ior's hair is long gone and his bushy blond beard is beginning to show hints of gray. It isn't unusual to find Ior wearing nothing but his rough-fabric worker pants and a leather apron when working, but in very, very special occasions Ior has shown the ability to dress somewhat more finely. When outdoors he protects his scalp from frying with a wide-brimmed straw hat.

The history of Ior Bock.

Ior's early years are lost in the mists of time. No one actually knows for sure where he was born and where he spent his childhood, but Ior himself claims to be the bastard son of a wealthy Trinsic noble and half-brother of Sir Asander Laureion. Whether this is true or not, Ior still seems to have some connections to Trinsic. During his teen years Ior wandered the land with vagrants and other no-good outcasts, making a living by stealing food or occasionally working as a farm-hand.

Somewhere before his twenty-fifth birthday Ior somehow got a job as a blacksmith's apprentice in Minoc. The old blacksmith wasn't especially good at his trade and spent most of his days drinking heavily in the Barnacle Tavern, leaving Ior to toil at the forge. Luckily the blacksmith's wife and daughter weren't as grumpy (nor ugly, quite the contrary actually) as the head of the family, and Ior spent many happy days and nights in their bedchambers. All good things must come to an end, though, and when the blacksmith found out what his apprentice was up to, Ior had to leave Minoc in quite a hurry.

The work had not gone to waste, however. Ior had become rather good at both smelting and forging metal, so his new career as a wandering miner and blacksmith brought him many fine adventures, too many encounters with bloodthirsty and maniacal murderers, lots of boring labour and not all that much gold. A pure stroke of luck was when Ior met his niece Melissa Laureion on a rainy spring morning. Melissa told Ior that her employer, mr. Videric Gaveston of the Trade Caravan of Cove was looking for slav... skilled workers. Needless to say, Ior jumped at the opportunity for a permanent job, and from that day onward all of his energy has gone towards making the Trade Caravan prosper.

Ior's cheerful nature and rough but lovable manners have earned him countless friends. As a true man of the people he doesn't discriminate between noble and serf, giving everyone the same treatment they all deserve. Never one to refuse a drink, Ior often gets in trouble when drinking, usually by either harassing the wrong ladies or challenging the wrong warriors to duels.