Description
This stout, rotund figure is a mass of thick muscle and thicker hair.
In fact, his face is barely visible beneath the tumbling hair locks.
His belly hangs out over his belt, at least a few inches in excess.
Small beads of sweat rest upon his forehead, locked in stern demeanor.
It's almost as if his expression is a grimace of pain or rage, or both.
The backs of his hands and forearms are calloused and devoid of hair.
His arms must be at least fifteen inches thick, and in no way fatty.
Oddly enough, he seems quite physically fit, despite his appearance.
A broad tattoo wraps itself around his right arm, its colors vibrant.
It is the image of a beautiful mermaid, her lips red and hair golden.
Role
Having the Courage to Do What Many Cannot
Added Thu Mar 18 22:21:39 2004 at level 21:
Among the dwarves, courage isn't even a word within their vocabulary.
At least, not one often used. For there is no need for it with them.
To the dwarves, the ideals of courage are a way of life and being
not afraid to leap into most any dangers is a given and to be expected.
Even those whom might be considered tender in spirit amongst their
kind are considered fierce and bold when put in contrast to the world.
Vlaugniur was born the son of a blacksmith, one popular for his work.
One of the things Vlaugniur picked up from his father was his tongue.
Known for their curses and foul language, many avoided their company.
Vlaugniur was good with the forge, but his heart just wasn't in it.
The need to always be on the move seemed to linger in his spirit somewhere.
When his father's heart failed in his sleep, he did not linger long.
Vlaugniur came onto the world with fierce ambition and determination.
He wasn't shocked at the way the world had turned to reliance on
civilizations and upon magic, for he had heard the rumors and stories.
But it sure did disgust him. The first thing he did was seek out
those known as villagers, for they were popular among his clan.
The BloodBraid
Added Sun Apr 4 22:24:17 2004 at level 33:
Seven generations ago, a dwarf named Romithig made a name for himself
among the other dwarves during one of the most epic battles in history.
It was in the pinnacle of battle, when he and his kin were defending
the most vital, central tunnel of their honeycomb of mines against drow.
With the corpses of drow surrounding him, he bathed in their blood,
his small figure an image of hair and metal as he spun in circles,
always ready for a new foe. When a drow warrior finally severed one
of his arms from his body, he didn't stop. When a drowish whip tore
out one of his eyes, he didn't stop. With his body drenched in blood,
he kept looking for a new foe until finally, there were none standing.
His rage so strong, his battlefury so overwhelming, he hobbled from
corpse to corpse, hacking away at them to 'make sure they were dead'.
Soon after, he passed away, for though dwarves are very healthy, he
had suffered one too many wounds. In honor of his passing, he was
given the name BloodBraid, for though his beautiful braided beard was
still fresh with drow blood, he always looked for the next. And for
the fact that his braids touched the ground, and as he'd walk over
the bodies of the dead, his beard became drenched in blood.