Grobane's tale begins when he was but a young pup, mining for jewels and
drinking at the local tavern. He excelled at his work and he enjoyed it
quite thoroughly, especially drinking. One evening whilst he was sitting at
his favorite stool, he overheard a few outsiders speaking of the various
ongoings, of an Army so powerful none dared to stand in its way. None but a
few valiant master of arms and mages known as Knights.. Or something of
that nature. They were few and far between and seldom seen these days. But
those that fought back this Army did so with a vigor and constitution unlike
anything Grobane had heard of before. Wave after wave of evil beings and
creatures would smash themselves against these few valiant Knights, and the
Knights would hold their own, mostly. Despite the odds of a certain death
far beyond what mortals would consider pain, these few men and women would
stare Darkness in the face and smile... Perhaps crookedly for Grobane
thought they must be mad to do as they did, but that is also what he found
so fascinating, and what would eventually drive him towards the city of
Valour.
Description:
Scraggly crimson hair fights for air as the majority of it has been
stuffed into a rather small and unadorned helmet. His beard is well groomed
and has been braided into three separated pieces with the middle being the
largest. Half-lidded dull gray eyes look out at the world with little to no
interest, unless of course it's alcohol or food they happen to fall on.
Muscle and sinew knot the length of his arms, chest, and legs, allowing him
to hold his oversized belly in place. The front of his shirt is covered in
beer stains and bread crumbs and sticks out well past his waistline. All in
all, he looks to be a typical Dwarf.
