|| Dhuggal Graychest || Cave Dwarf / 225 years old / Male ||
An average cave beardling in every way, Dhuggal Graychest (of the small and unremarkable Graychest family,) was practically born swinging a pick. Among four elder brothers, he was often babied, humbly spoiled with as many fiction books as dwarven servitude would allow. Tales of daring tickled him, but his greatest honor would be to grow as did his kin – stalwart, dependable, carving metals from the earth. Miners. To follow in their footsteps, to claim them as his heroes, warmed both his heart and theirs. Passing two hundred years as a bookworm and dedicated collier, he was perfectly content to live the rest of his clan life reading novels and extracting ore beneath the crust. But it was not to be. On one day’s return, a chance cave-in led him to discover the family home ruined and emptied. No bodies were found: the Graychests never returned. Time would mend his wounds, but Dhuggal never ceased to be haunted by his family's mysterious fate or the remainder of his life's direction. Were the Graychests to go quietly into the night, with the last of their kind piddling his last five hundred years away at the stone? At dawn, – knowing not what he was after, – he donned his coat and packed for the surface. Thus, Dhuggal Graychest's foray into the unknown begins.
Currently, he heads for the Cloud Temple, hearing rumors of a shorebound palace of refuge that has served all mankind for thousands of years. During this time, he has clung often to the thought of the Brathmordakin – (he prays that the gods had been kind enough to vie for his brothers at Khaz'A'Dentrumm) – and especially his favored goddess Anbella, sorely missing the warmth and kin of his home and wounding to begin a new one at last.
⦁ Dark-haired and dusk-skinned, with yellowed eyes and gray body hair.
⦁ Overweight (and beer-bellied,) but justifiably thick-armed.
Q: You’ve just stepped off of the boat in the port of a massive and fortified city. Before you lies a sprawling bazaar, with numerous shops, stalls, and seated traders selling wares to folk of all walks of life. Just as you’re about to continue walking onwards, into the market, you’re approached by a well-dressed gentleman who looks upon you with a big smile. “Welcome!” He began. “What brings you to this lovely city? Adventure? Wealth? Or some grand aspirations to elevate your place in society?” How do you respond?
A: Dhuggal quits his luggage, stunned to be stopped by a man of status -- a stranger, no less. He barks out some hideously obnoxious laughter. “Aye,” he recovers, a smile cracking from under his beard, “’elevating’ is a way you could put it!”
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