Orin Midwinter

"MIdwinter is a mad dog born to hunt. Woe to the world that he has slipped our leash." - Head Inquisitor Dexer Sirac

Orin Midwinter is a former inquisitor under the rule of Vinter Raelthorne IV, then eventually the Arcane Administrator of Vinter's son, King Julius Raelthorne. Ultimately, Midwinter has made a deal with Infernals to cure him and extend his life, thus he is now forever a loyal servant to his dark masters.

Character

Orin Midwinter might be the last of a dying breed. The word “inquisition” still evokes dread in Cygnarans who lived through the end of Vinter Raelthorne IV’s reign. Few remain of this once-mighty fraternity of ruthless wizards who tortured and killed any opposing their king. Among the elite of this fellowship, Senior Inquisitor Orin Midwinter held a position just below that of Head Inquisitor Dexter Sirac. Midwinter remembers well the days when he walked the halls of power and the sound of his staff on the tiles terrorized his captives. His minions daily dragged before him prisoners accused of sorcery, witchcraft, or treason, and Midwinter can recall in detail the interrogations they endured at his hands before eventually earning the release of death. In fact, Midwinter looks back on those days fondly. The last thirteen years spent concealing his background and living in comparative squalor have been difficult, but he has bided his time until the day he might resume his work.

Raelthorne originally formed the Inquisition to stamp out witchcraft, though he soon expanded it to root out any perceived treason. Midwinter made his name neutralizing rogue sorcerers and had less to do with torturing petty nobles or others captured for sedition. But his devotion to the Inquisition’s core principles worked against him following Leto’s coup. The more politically minded of his former comrades found shelter, while some fell to their tireless hunters, and others found redemption by pleading for mercy from the Church of Morrow. But Midwinter refused to recant and stayed hidden, so consumed by outrage and fanatically attached to his former glory that he that he lied, debased himself, and sacrificed his pride in order to survive.

Midwinter’s squalid life has begun to take its toll, however: he has picked up a back-alley rotting disease similar to rip lung that steadily and painfully chokes the breath from him. He expects death will come sooner rather than later, but he is no more willing to surrender to it than to the usurper Leto’s hunters. Though he sees himself as the same great arcane master he once was, Orin Midwinter has changed considerably with the passing years. The wild look in his eyes and occasional explosive surge of temper followed by bloody coughs are the most obvious signs of his degenerating legacy.

No written record of Midwinter’s victims exists, either from his tenure as an inquisitor or from the years following, and he zealously guards this historical anonymity. Anyone who probes too deeply into his past is likely to feel the sting of his lightning. Midwinter’s fiery temper has fueled his constant movement in and around Cygnar, and he is quite aware that Cygnar’s Reconnaissance Service would eagerly snap him up if they could find him. Though he feels restless outside his former nation, he has spent months hiding in the maze-like warrens of Ord’s ports and, more recently, wandering the outskirts of the Bloodstone Marches.

Midwinter’s paranoia borders on insanity, but his loyalty to Vinter recently prompted him to put aside his fears and contact those he believes still support the former king. In the company of such men he dons the robes of his old station in the brazen hope of creating a new Inquisition before illness claims him. He dreams of the day when the citizens of Cygnar again tremble before him and plead for their lives.

Sources

• Forces of Warmachine: Mercenaries
• The Blood of Kings, by Douglas Seacat
• The Mind Beneath
• Counting the Fallen
• Warmachine: Oblivion