<div class="floatright">(http://36.media.tumblr.com/02111358f3349d6b10ec320a1ffc09b7/tumblr_nhjnt5NlYe1qb2woko1_500.jpg)</div>Velma Thunderaxe: a strange surname-d Human woman, citizen of Laelith of the Faded Lands, formally trained alchemist, healer, wordsmith, rogue, mechanist, academic, engineer, fighter... a modern Jack-of-All with a talent and drive of curiosity and inspiration that would make some question the following 'Master-of-None' to the adage.<br/><br/>Raised by Dwalin "Greybeard" Thunderaxe, patriarch of the Thunderaxe Family, it seemed that Velma fit right in with her adoptive Dwarven family, even if her nephew to this day is easily five times her age, yet it's her right to treat him as a 'young one'.  Strong will, focused, and determined, the Human fit right in, especially when her talent for brewing was discovered... and then found to be far beyond simple brews of ales, stouts, and liquors into the realm of magical concoctions and alchemical drafts.  Thus began her formal training at the Academy, and her indoctrination into the Mage's Collective.<br/><br/>However, as a Human not only was she "of age" before most Dwarven kin would be "barely a tyke," but she grew up faster than that even.  Dwarven-taught focus blended with human versatility and creativity, an emphasis on practicality and utility of the mundane led to her alchemical curiosities, then to her learnings and book-readings on every subject that caught her fancy (all of them in other words), to practical skills of healing and mechanics, to the swiftness of her hands and feet...<br/><br/>Rare is it to find a mage so skilled in the mundane talents learned by the remainder of society, and yet once Velma's curiosity was piqued she doggedly pursued it's acquisition with the unrelenting persistence of stone.  Sometimes this led to her butting heads with others, and like her father she was a stubborn bastard too, and the old Greybeard wasn't so old he couldn't teach her how to fight half-decently at least.<br/><br/>Yes, she was creative, reliable, and determined, skilled and knowledgeable in more things than most humans had a right to be at her age.  So it was surprising that her primary 'job' in Laelith was creating alchemical and magical potions on a commissions-basis, working to help her aging father at the Split Pig when she wasn't, especially since she'd done that consistently for several years now.  Unsurprisingly however, her curiosity and inquisitive pursuits would regularly get the better of her, particularly when she could figure out that which the Laelith Defenders couldn't, thus preparing her for her second, and perhaps more financially supportive, career...<br/><br/>But that wasn't all, though it's all we could get into now; it seems that Velma Thunderaxe was awaking...<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Another weird-ass dream... must have been a full-moon the night before, again.  Velma rolled over in her bed to face the window that let the morning light shine through to her second-floor bedroom above the Split Pig.  Yawning, she sat up, pushing her dwarfen-silk sheets off of her bare body... what?  Dwarves could work more than stone with such craftsmanship, and it wasn't all about armor!<br/><br/>Climbing out of bed, she stretched her nubile form, large, perky bosom bouncing as she reached high, firm, sizeable buttocks on display as she reached low, the rest of her tad-slight frame rippling as she moved and flexed, preparing herself for the day with good-ol-stretches!  Hair loose, it hung down past her shoulders, but a silk hairband - from her dearest daddy of course, that grey-bearded lech! - held most of it up in a high tail, two bans in front left loose.  Finally with a grasp for her glasses, placed pointedly on the bridge of her nose and then pushed up smartly with her middle finger and a soft smile, it seemed she was right on time to wander out of her room across the hall to her Study.<br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://www.hypercoop.tk/gfx/alchlab.JPG)</div>Books on every topic imaginable - and some that most wouldn't think  of - lined one side of the room, thankfully in a home crafted of dwarven stone that could support the weight of her heavy-tomed library.  A desk for sitting, chests and crates with glassware and flasks, and a table for putting together the massive concoction-producing alchemical devices, none currently in work at the moment, since she had no commission.  So it was to her desk, to retrieve and open up her personal extraction kit and retrieve her formulae book, breaking it open and preparing her basic assortment of extracts for the day.  From across her glassed eyes she scoured her formulae and then her collection of reagents and chemicals, mixing and stirring and preparing with but a pinch of her magical potential in each.  She feared not for her bare, nubile flesh with said chemicals; it would take being catapulted through the air to disrupt her focus and sway her steady hands.<br/><br/>Time practically flew as she worked and toiled, but she looked up at the clock upon the wall - mechanical and again of dwarven craft, accurate to the second and hadn't need re-winding for the last twenty years - to see that, indeed, it was time for her to finish getting ready, a bath and then to dress.  Her father should be downstairs preparing for the Split Pig's meager breakfast crew, so it was again across the hall gingerly to her room once more, a small pack in tow this time containing her reagents, extracts, and other assorted necessities, and to her dresser to retrieve her outfit for the day, along with her boots and magical devices and items, mostly a collection of bands, bracelets, and gloves to adorn her arms.  And then a robe, not fond of going downstairs naked, especially since it would put her out front where the tavern was.  She closed it tight about her body, tying it about her waist, gathered a old, worn towel, and made her way out and down to the Split Pig's front, so she can shout to the back of it and get her father's attention.<br/><br/>Once there, that was indeed what she did:<br/><br/>"Father!  Is the bath still warm, or do I need to head to the fountain?" she asked, a smile gracing her face while she idly fixed her glasses, knowing how protective he was over his 'Jewel', specifically when it came to her perceived 'chastity' or any relationships with males.  She was sure the very notion of her going to bathe out wherever someone could see her was going to get (another) rise from him.  It was part of the fun of being a daughter after all!