Kazgrim Dreadhowl<br/>Race: Orc<br/>Attire: A studded leather harness covers his light green chest; the rest of his body is covered in thick, reinforced bear hide. His clothing is accompanied by a heavy cloak of matching hide. He carries a massive, single-edged blade with him. It is sheathed at his waist.<br/><br/>The massive aberration is buffeted by the brutal winds that the frozen wastes of Northrend's mountains have to offer. He presses on; his fur-lined cloak billowing wildly in the savage winds as he continues to tread forward through the unforgiving mountain summit. He would notice a faint light in the distance, quite stark to his eyes as he had been used to the blinding haze of frost. He would charge forward, a renewed vigor in his steps as he makes the journey to the light. Whether it is of his exhausted delirium, or real, his goal is decided. As he closes in on his destination, he reaches a leather-sheathed hand out, feeling around for anything of substance. As his hand brushes across the door, he shoves it open and nearly collapses to the ground. He would quickly, but painfully reach back with his other arm, displaying a triplet of deep gashes across his thick, green forearm as he closes the door. He would rise to his feet, standing at a triumphant height; about seven feet tall. He would pull back his fur-lined bear hide hood, revealing quite a handsome face for an Orc, but forever remains the intimidating gaze of his blood-red eyes. His chin is wide and chiseled against his thick neck, doing his broad shoulders, body, and limbs great justice. A groomed black beard would rest upon the crest of his chin and jawline. He lets out a long, drawn-out sigh of exhaustion and accomplishment as he gazes across the main hall. He would make his way to an empty table and take a seat, the wood creaking under his weight. He would slide off his gauntlets and bracers, revealing his wounds once more; the crimson blood glints eerily in the dim light as he tends to it, the wound seeming quite fresh. He'd grunt softly as he sews and stitches each of the gashes up, sighing again as he finished only to look around once more for the sign of an innkeeper or bartender.<br/><br/>(( Pretty new to forum RP. I'd love criticism; constructive, that is. ))<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>