TEEbrown

[King of Fell! Good luck dude on the guild, too bad we lost you yesterday on the way to the shrine maybe next time hah]

It's a cool sword, so yea, it's gonna give you a higher combat advantage. It's kinda the point. The sword seems wicked cool for it's concept. I like it.

-=Dwinn's Tale=- Dwinn was a dwarf of the traveling road from birth. Born in a moving, covered wagon; he was brought into this world. Throughout most of his life as a beardling, he traveled from place to place, never having settled down or having a true home. The clan followed the work, they where forced to live this life. There where only ever two things that remained constant in Dwinn's life and that was kin and coin. You see, Dwinn noticed something as he grew older. He noticed that coin was always there to procure housing for sleep, food for nourishment, and ale for relaxation. It was coin that housed him, clothed him. It was coin that he could call "home." From here, the first seeds of greed are sewed. The teachings of the Brathmordikin, axe wielding and dwraven smithing where all known to Dwinn byt he age of fifty, as most dwarves his age would have known. Flynn, Dwinn's mentor and father, sat down with him one night and gave him a choice. He could either stay with the Blackaxe clan and live a humble life as a working dwarf or he could go out and seek his own fame and fortune in the world. So enticed was Dwinn that without a second thought, he set out on his own, leaving behind everything he ever knew. Such was the way of Dwinn, when he wanted something he went for it. As the nights went by, Dwinn soon realized that living in this world was not easy. He first attempted to become a merchant, but no human would ever take him as an apprentice and he knew he could not return to the lands of Urguan. He kept looking. Being more realistic, he found a job at a small lumbering village. Although, that job didn't last either when the greedy Dwinn was caught stealing from the overseer's house. He left those lands and went to the city in search for work, the city of Arethor. At the time, the city was is disrepair. Crime on every corner, windows boarded up, it was a mess. Dwinn found lodgings in a leaking tavern in the slum district. His bed was covered in mold. It was these times that he looked back at his life with his clan and was in want of that life again. He shakes his head to remove such memories as he lays his head down to get some sleep for the night. Something that night awoke him though. Weather it was fate tinkering in Dwinn's life or just by chance, Dwinn awoke. Turning out of his bed, he saw a window lit up not far from here. It resided in one of the larger houses in the slums. But that was not the first thing he noticed. Dwinn was entranced by the bars of gold laying in the window, gleaming by the light of the candle. He began to walk toward it, and before he even knew what he was doing, he was inside the house. For a split second, fear rushed over Dwinn as he realized he was in the house, picking up the bars, and placing them in his bag. Before he knew it, he was back home, asleep in bed. The next morning Dwinn woke up from a pounding at the door. A voice spoke to him with the most grumbling, dark tone. "Ah know yer in dere yah fieven bloke." His heart raced as he looked at the gold bars he was bear-hugging all night. He had to get out of there, but how? The pounding grew louder and more annoyed. Dwinn looked around in a panic. The door slammed open as the brute man kicked it in. Dwinn became face to face with a mountain of a man "Yah just ah pint of a man, ain't ya." The man spoke in the same harsh, darkened tones. Dwinn threw his body backwards crashing threw the window and fell three stories to the uneven cobble streets. He stood up groggily and the man poked his head through the window above only to retrieve it just as quick to chase Dwinn in pursuit. Dwinn heard something though, in the distance. He looked towards the busy markets and began to run. The voice kept getting louder and louder. Bloodied and broken, Dwinn kept running. It was not until he reached the market that he heard where the voice was coming from. It was his father, Flynn, yelling out prices for various types of meats for sale. Dwinn kept running until he got right in front on him and then collapsed. The mountain man was close behind him, but this time he brought a whole gang of rag tag bandit looking men. "Just hand ovah th' fievin' dwarf 'n we'll be on our way." Spoke the mountain man. Flynn, grinding his teeth, drew his axe, as many of the older Blackaxe kin. Although, most of the clan where not of fighting stock anymore, being in the working class for so long. The group of bandits charged the clan creating a scene of utter chaos. Blood spewed from the wounds made by both sides. The rest of the market scattered, attempting to flee. After a good minute of fighting, the bandits closed in on the rest of the clan, forcing them to flee in every direction. The fight was so confusing and bloody that no one is really sure what actually happened or why they even attacked them. Most of the clan was so numb to the day to day that they weren't even sure it was real. From then on out the clan spit apart. As for Dwinn, he stayed in Arethor doing dirty jobs that needed to be done. All the wiser though about his greed. He learned a great deal that night. He eventually left with the rest of the populace on a mad goose chase for a new home. During this time of switching islands, many chaotic things where going about. Raids became more frequent, especially with the human houses of Oren. Dwinn partook in these events by taking many lives in a very brutish manner. After a few skirmishes, the raiding lifestyle became much more clear to Dwinn. He enjoyed this life, much more than the numb life than that of a working dwarf. Ironically, like the working dwarf life, he too became numb to emotions and regret after each and every raid, and each and every kill. This eventually escalated to where Dwinn felt almost no remorse at all. He began taking the innocents left behind back with him on these raids. At first, the notion of selling them was not clear to Dwinn, he was merely using them to clean after him. After a while though, he saw others selling them off. Dwinn saw the coin in this as he smiled a crooked smile. This became a regular thing for Dwinn, almost like a routine. Eventually he made ties with the human house of Carrion in the lands of Anthos. He became a sellsword for him. Siegmond named him Greedsword for the tough negotiations of his contract that he made. The years of being on his own left Dwinn bitter and angry. He did not care for other peoples problems or the problems that he caused other people. It was not until he was reunited with Maul and Baldur that he felt any other emotion than hate.

Original depiction of Balthar Blackaxe. -=History=- Most dwarves know of the Grandaxe Clan and how it split, but what they do not know if of those dwarves that were left behind, those that did not return. http://www.lordofthecraft.net/wiki/index.php?title=History_of_the_Grandaxes Back in Kal'Domhain, the wind could be heard whistling on the mountain peaks as the last of the returning Blackaxe Clan departs from its fortress walls. Only a handful of its kin remained, namely Decks and Gulik. You see, the two brothers did not trust the dwarves of Kal'Urguan. The betrayal that they endured from those dwarves when they were exiled would not be so easily undone. It forever ingrained in their minds, unlike their younger kin. This is the reason they would not return, or ever return. They did their best in such harsh conditions, fighting the cold every night, scrounging the mountainside for traces of food. Many of the weaker kin died out quickly. The clan knew with such small numbers, they could not survive there. It was the choice of Gulik that they would go, although Decks would not have it. He remained and wasn't heard of again until he appeared in Kal'Azgoth many years later. Gulik took the clan to northern Oren towns and cities in search of work. They did eventually find work, although, the jobs did not stay in one place. The torn clan was forced to move from town to town in order to keep enough minas in there pocket to survive in their new environment. Eventually, they found this way of living to be the only way of living for their kin. So the clan adapted to a new lifestyle, they became the wandering clan. For years they would labor in towns and cities; chopping wood, working a forge. Even when they came to the new lands of Asulon, they continued their wandering lifestyle. While many were born in Kal'Domhain, their numbers begun to grow larger as they arrived at the new lands, giving birth to a new generation of their clan. Many of these these dwarves are the dwarves you would see today in Anthos. About halfway through their time in Asulon, the Blackaxe Clan had an unusual cruel twist of fate when they chose to take a job in the city of Arethor. It was not the job that was cruel, but merely the time and place. Dwinn, the youngest son of Flynn and recently striking out on his own, had stolen from a large and feared mercenary group in the city the night prior, and now they were out for blood. Not knowing what to do, he turned to his kins-dwarves which helped him without a second's notice. The scene in the streets was a bloody and graphic picture. The band of mercenaries descended on the clan of working dwarves like hounds on a rabbit. The clan scattered. From then on out, the clan would be no more. The surviving dwarves went their separate ways, not knowing if some of their kin were still alive in the scrap. Now, three brothers, sons of Flynn reunite under the name Blackaxe. They made a home for themselves somewhere off in the wilderness, as mountain dwarves usually do. Now they seek riches of other lands and their lost kin. -=Kins-Dwarves=- -The Line of Flynn- Maul Blackaxe [zortjr] Ragnarok Blackaxe [Only_Distance] Dwinn Blackaxe [TEEbrown] -=Who We Are=- Dwarves of the Blackaxe Clan are known for their fierce devotion to honour and the ways of Dungrimm. Unlike many of their kin, they take no issue with being apart from the dwarven nation and are regarded by many as exiles, due to their questionable and devious nature. Their only true loyalty is to their own kin and the gold and wealth they gain from the contracts they serve. Due to their strict upholding of oaths, a Blackaxe will rarely break an agreement, and if so, would likely be shunned from his clan. Like the mountain dwarves of old, a Blackaxe will never forget a grudge and will pursue it to the end of time, until the blood debt has been repaid. These dwarves are visually identifiable by their fiery red braided beards and their deep brown eyes. On average, they have larger and more imposing figures than most dwarves. Though belonging to the noble origins of the Grandaxe bloodline, Blackaxes live apart from their kin and therefore their culture reflects these differences. Brawling and hunting is common amongst holds of the Blackaxe Clan, where high atop the mountains, these dwarves regularly live under harsh conditions in order to survive. -=How We Operate=- Like the Blackaxe Clan back in Aegis, we are a raiding faction. That means our main purpose is to create role play through means of combat type situations, being the Blackaxe Clan on one side and the faction being raided on the other. That being said, each member is required to have a VA with at least 2a Murder. On the times when we are not raiding, there is time to have regular, rough dwarven RP. We are independent from the dwarven nation and therefore can be considered a neutral faction. We are an invite only group. Although, if you do have an interest, you may PM either me or Zezimus about consideration in joining as a Blackaxe. Realize though that if you join, you MUST create a new dwarven character and you MUST have an accepted VA. You will only be allowed to role play as the character, upon completing both.