Description
The shaven pate of this wide, short dwarf gleams with grime and sweat. Sunk
beneath that great shining dome, his eyes are large, the color of wet shale.
His mouth is wide and full, his lips tough over huge ivory teeth. His jaw is
a slap, jutting out of his torso with the barest mention of a neck tween
them. It is hard to tell if he even wears a tunic, so thick and long is is
deep umber beard. The dense curls sprouting from the backs of his large hands
imply that his entire body follows the lead of his whiskers in terms of sheer
hairyness.
Role
Back in the day.
Added Sat Sep 24 14:51:13 2005 at level 6:
Yeh damned spirits lookin' inter me head. Yeh wants ter know the past well
here it be.
My fadder died young, after gettin' me mudder heavy wit me two sisters afore
she were heavy wit me. He were a hammer swinger in defense o' Akan, and a
damned strong one. Dey still sing 'is honor in de halls o' ale. His rage were
a fearsome thing ter behold though. Na'er were it spwen at his kin nor his
family but ter cross him were to stand 'gainst de torrent o' fire wit na'er
but a hand full 'o kindlin' fer yer shield.
Dis led 'im ter a young death though, and me mudder were always hatin' him
fer it, leavin' her ter raise us bairns afore her beard were e'en greyin'. It
were his rage 'gainst the duergar that led him ter his young death, dere in
de mines, fightin' wit pride an' honner. Meh sisters done took up the axe as
well, takin' de path o' the Dragoon, and fightin' wit skill, but wit none of
deh fire in de blood dat dems of my kind should be havin', and preachen' ter
me of de temperin' of anger.
And when I were young I listened ter dere mewlin', but now I'm grown, and tho
'es dead de memr'y o' me pa warms he heart like deh strongest o' Whiskeys,
and de pride I ha'e in his last stand do be worth his young death. So drink
yeh damned meddlin' spirit in de heaven's ter me pa in de Hall of Heros and
drink deep. I'll be join' him afore it is done.
Some random RP notes.
Added Thu Oct 27 20:17:46 2005 at level 51:
First, as Hrugald gets older, he still wants to kill evil doers, but he
realises thats he's not all that good at it, so his attentions are
increasingly turned to leaving something behind, thus his focus on the forge
and the Ale.
He's a bit of a softie, but tries to not let on, too much.
In terms of his religion, he worships Aarn with all his heart, but knows
that he is not very Rageful, and ergo has little hope of bearing, as he
says, The Bearded Ones mark.
Obviously, he is in love with Seltun, which causes him great joy, and some
embarrassment.
Hrugald is embarrassed that he cared as much about clothes as he did when he
was younger, and he see's Ulothyre as a reminder to be humble about
posessions.