Backstory to be completed over the next few days:<br/><br/><hr/><br/>(https://i.imgur.com/Tcr9rNs.png)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>Name:</strong> Grunkar Broadfinger<br/><strong>Race:</strong> Mountain Dwarf<br/><strong>Class:</strong> Fighter<br/><strong>Height:</strong> 4’3”<br/><strong>Weight:</strong> 180<br/><strong>Languages:</strong> Dwarvish, Common<br/><strong>Alignment:</strong> Neutral Good<br/><strong>Ability scores:</strong> Str 17 | Dex: 13 | Con: 16 | Int: 10 | Wis: 8 | Cha: 12<br/><strong>Skill proficiency (Background):</strong> Athletics, Intimidate<br/><strong>Skill proficiency (Class):</strong> History, Perception<br/><strong>Tool proficiency (Background):</strong> Dice Set, Land Vehicles<br/><strong>Tool proficiency (Class):</strong> None</span><br/><br/><hr/><br/>(https://i.imgur.com/rieSiUp.png)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>Armour:</strong> Chain Mail<br/><strong>Shield:</strong> Shield<br/><strong>Equipment pack:</strong>Explorer’s Pack<br/><strong>Martial weapon:</strong> battleaxe<br/><strong>Secondary weapon:</strong> hand axe x2<br/><strong>Background Equipment:</strong> Sergeant’s Insignia, goblin’s dagger, bone dice, clothing, belt pouch with 10gp<br/><strong>Trinket:</strong> A scroll case full of ash. The lid has a tiny iron spike on the top.</span><br/><br/><hr/><br/>(https://i.imgur.com/8Xkit6W.png)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>Bonds:</strong><br/>(Character bonds not yet established – goes here)</span><br/><br/><strong>Description: </strong><br/><div class="floatright">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ba/50/b3/ba50b3e88e9b92df87fab3c799ef6cab.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><br/>A dwarf not well-suited to a life within the confines of the walls and tunnels of his clan’s holdings, Grunkar has an intense natural inclination to wander. He is very devoted to the task at hand, but has a hard time truly understanding others. Grunkar is a very devout religious dwarf, worshipping across the dwarven pantheon, but favoring Torm, hoping to emulate his god’s form by standing as a bastion before oncoming danger. He fears the terrors of the deep places of the world, and is distrustful of those who wield mind-altering magics, knowing all too well the horrors that can be unleashed when one is made to act against their will. Grunkar tries to be sociable when involved with others, but finds himself speaking on subjects his fellows seldom care about, or going off on unrelated tangents. He loves his beard more than gold, gems, ale, and she-dwarves, and will compose doggerel verses about it when he has time to spare.<br/><br/>Grunkar is, well, a dwarf’s dwarf. A stout, hearty fellow, he is broad and well-thewed, made even more stout by the thick armor he wears, a nearly ever-present addition to his own bulk. Even when going about peaceable business and eschewing his favored plates of steel, Grunkar carries a solid shield over his shoulder, a versatile tool when danger presents itself. He favors axes over blunt instruments, primarily the long-hafted blades of his people, but he keeps a smaller axe on his belt as a tool or weapon of last resort. Grunkar favors practicality over displays of grandeur when it comes to his garb, often sticking to drab leggings and tunics, simple leather boots, and warm furs to ward off the elements. His pack is brimming with such garments at most times, however, as they don’t really fit under his armor well.<br/><br/>Grunkar’s bushy brown brows flow from one side of his face to the other with only the barest of breaks between them. He keeps the edges of his moustache and beard neatly trimmed, a flowing mass of deep brown with flecks of red throughout. Impeccably groomed, the adornment begins at his temples, cascading from the edges of the rest of his hair down his cheeks to meet his moustache. From there the combined threads of hair are woven intricately into a fine pattern, various geometric shapes interspersed with each other, occasionally tied off with tiny rings of silver binding them together and pulling them into place. The rare red hairs are wound about the silver rings, giving them a subtle striped pattern. After the beard leaves his chin, it is worked into three larger braids, each bound with a piece of string of a different hue. The leftmost braid is bound in blue, signifying the sky, the vast expanse that limits dwarven ambition. The rightmost is bound in a shiny onyx black, signifying the depths of the world from whence his people came, his history. The middle braid is bound in white, signifying righteousness, his goal in the world. At the tip of each braid, each are brought together and tied with a plain brown band with tiny, poor quality emerald flecks, signifying the life he must live to bind it all into one cohesive whole.<br/><br/><strong>Backstory: </strong><br/>While Grunkar is not the most comfortable among his own kind anymore, that wasn’t always the case. Like the overwhelming majority of mountain dwarves, he was born and raised within the holdings of his extended family, the teeming clan serving to show the young dwarf exactly how society was supposed to operate. Brought up under the watchful eye of the priesthood of the dwarven gods, Grunkar learned a healthy respect for power and authority, but at the same time chafed against the rigidity of their people’s tradition. The pressures of dwarven society to conform and to serve were too much for the young man, and as soon as he had served his required tour of duty as a clan guardsman for ten years, he was officially released from mandatory service. He was a full citizen with rights to have grievances heard, to marry, to operate a business, and, most importantly, to leave.<br/><br/>Departing was not a hasty decision for Grunkar. He was a damned good warrior, and the expectations of his family were just too much for him to remain among them. He loved them dearly, but knew that they would be more proud of his decisions when they heard of them on the tongues of bards than if he were to stay behind and fail to follow protocol by establishing a trade and finding a suitable dwarf to marry and produce children with. Those were not his priorities. While he loved being a dwarf and sought to proudly display the culture he descended from, there was no way he was going to remain under the protective cover of the mountain’s halls when the greater world stood just beyond their gates.<br/><br/>Dwarves are nothing if not stubborn, and Grunkar was very much a dwarf. He struggled to fit in with the mercenary company he joined, his refusal to drink and carouse with the others inciting the soldiers to question if he was a real dwarf and suggesting that he might do better in a monastery or cloister than among sellswords. As much as their words stung, they only served to harden Grunkar’s resolve. He needed to prove himself as a valuable asset. There was no other option. So he served. So he fought. So he endured. And after five years, he carried a sergeant’s insignia and the respect of scores of men he’d kept alive in campaigns across the length and breadth of the region.<br/><br/>But Grunkar saw wanted more. He needed to be farther from his clan and from the roiling cities filled with every temptation known. Even though he was hard-headed and pious, temptation was strong, and Grunkar knew that he would fail if he didn’t help himself. Signing on to a new mercenary company, Makbet’s Legion, he was made to sail across the great sea to bring his skills to New World, where fledgling lords were already looking for private armies to bring pressure on their rivals and claim larger and larger swaths of land. Commander Makbet was a good man, though, and the Legion swore only to serve masters who could show that their causes were largely noble. The mercenaries were all men and women of honor, and Grunkar was proud to serve amongst them for two years, defending the lands they were hired to keep against the incursions of their marauding neighbors. It was far from the beautiful wanderings he longed for, but it served to get him to where such things could be done, and he had sworn two years of service.<br/><br/>Finally free, Grunkar found he wasn’t the only dwarf who had made his way to the New World to find his fortune. Though the others often shared little of his values, they served as a bridge to success for the hired blade. Grunkar only knew the ways of warfare, with little care given to other pursuits, so he found himself drawn to adventuring parties. The idea of supporting a small team of specialists was exactly what he sought. They traveled far and wide, and most would allow him to keep his eccentricities without really questioning them. As long as he pulled his weight when the time came to act, he was welcomed.<br/><br/>Grunkar is now a grizzled veteran adventurer, although he has never really managed to escape the bottom rung of the ladder of advancement. He still refuses to consume intoxicants, even when in great distress or pain. He still cleaves to his religious beliefs, venerating Torm above all others, but also paying homage to the entire dwarven pantheon. Strength and defense are honorable pursuits in his mind, and he champions them greatly. The charms of the flesh have been little of an issue for Grunkar. Most of those he has associated with have not been attracted to male dwarves, so he has not had to decide whether or not to give in to the calls of his loins. He has stood watch while others have engaged in such acts, and the mercenary companies he served with were often rife with sexual escapades, leaving him quite educated despite his lack of experience. Many feminine forms and some masculine ones have their appeal, but aesthetic preferences are moot when one remains warded by layers of steel, free from the lowering of inhibitions brought on by copious volumes of ale, and cognizant of the dangers inherent when one’s guard is compromised. Perhaps that will change. Perhaps not.<br/></span><br/>