Search the Community

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zCTWp7heCaU Marching through the meadows in which the Anthos Crossroad was inlaid, the many soldiers of varying rank and file within the Dwarven Legion and the varying Oren militaries had crossed the Rubicon finally as war broke out along Central Anthos. Axe met sword and the heavy infantries and archers did away with the calm loamy soil one pluck at a time as arrow upon arrow tilled the earth; readying to be fed the blood money as man and dwarf collided in a match of wit and strength. Through hours of grueling tactical maneuvers, the sun pleading with skin-prickling rays of light upon and through layers of armor for the spawn of Urguan and Horen to not cross the point of no return; soldiers of varying heights and mettle clashed in time. As sword and board danced along the Cloudwater Bridge, Man had planted heel and pushed, it's numbers making for the harshest charge to finally open the crevices of the Dwarven lines and inevitably led to the routing of the Dwarves back to which they felt safer. As Man marched to and fro, firstly in a reckless and endearing charge, then back from whence they came. The strewn bodies of dwarf and man laid for vultures to partake in feast, where man earns haughty impressions of himself and the sword of his fallen foe; vultures do commit to a charitable feast in which they need not be invited. The scene, especially at the Dwarven end of Cloudwater Bridge, is a most gruesome one not for the ones unsettled by the lifeless. The Perished Meadows have now adapted to it's new dress of bones, blood, and unsightly things; the odor rank and the sight tinging many with tears and haunting dreams. Will the denizens of Anthos hearken to what symbolism this may portray? ((I would like to state that some bodies are out and about, you do NOT need a VA to loot them))

Fimund Axegrinder Age: 77 Gender: Male Race: Mountain Dwarf Description Height: 5'1" Weight: 112 lbs Body Type: Thin Eyes: Brown Hair: Bright Red Skin: Pale Fimund is tall for a dwarf, but somewhat slight of build. His bright red hair has begun to thin at the top. He keeps his beard trimmed to a length about halfway down his chest. He has a small nose and small brown eyes, which don't draw too much attention. If not for the garish tint of his hair and beard, he would look very unremarkable. In most cases, he moves with slow deliberation, until he gets excited. At that point, he gets fidgety and can't stop moving. Personality: Slow of speech and action, except when angered or excited, at which poiunt he becomes hyper. Mostly optimistic, very stubborn regarding any topic about which he has an opinion. Fimund has trouble relating to other people. Due to moving around constantly, he never had any close friends as a young beardling. He has a stubborn determination about him that allows him to accomplish the things he sets his mind to. His mother instilled in him a strong sense of duty and knowledge of right and wrong, but the poor example set by his father has led to difficulty living up to his principles. He has a very hard time seeing things from other people's point of view. However, he goes out of his way to find out all the details before forming his own opinions. Overall, people find him to be friendly and good, but his stubborn nature has gotten him into a few altercations in the past, and he is not afraid to come to blows over an argument. Fimund speaks slowly and concisely, wthout much accent, except when he gets angry, at which point he becomes nearly unintelligible, struggling even to put a sentence together. He rarely loses his temper, though. Alignment: Chaotic Good Deity: Yemekar Special Skill(s): Writing, smithing, masonry Fimund's mother, Leena, educated him thoroughly as a child. Nowadays, he spends a lot of time reading and writing, and he learned to do delicate work with his hands. This has earned him some scorn from the other dwarves around him, who focused more on rough work. He has below average skill with weapons and large tools, but what he lacks in strength, he makes up for in enthusiasm. Many schoolyard fights ended quickly when he intimidated his stronger opponent with a childish war-cry as he rushed in headlong. As a hobby, Fimund creates ornate daggers. He has also showed skill in masonry. Flaw(s): Doesn't know how to pick the right fights, very stubborn, not very strong Biography Parents: Father: Jormund (traveling salesman, Fimund wants nothing to do with him), Mother: Leena (Educated Fimund, recently deceased) History Fimund grew up in a poor family. His father, Jormund, was never successful at any venture, and was hounded by debt. Fimund's earliest memories involve packing his few belongings in the dead of night and fleeing whatever town his family was living in at the time. He lost count of the number of times this happened. The happiest time he remembered was living in a small hut just outside Lenfarthing. He was only about a season old by then. His father used to take him to visit an old Halfling named Perry. He and Perry sometimes fished in the lake in Lenfarthing. Too soon, Jormund had lost all of his money again. So then they moved to a tiny basement room in Kingston. It wasn't until he was almost four seasons old that Fimund saw Dwarven lands for hte first time. The beauty of the snow capped mountains was so overwhelming that he wept silently to himself in the back of the wagon. He remembers wiping his tears away in a hurry when his father turned back to ask him a question. As much as he wanted to find a home high up on the majestic peaks, his father instead moved them into Kal'Azgoth. Over the years, Fimund's father tried his hand at carpentry, smithing, gambling, grain speculation, highway robbery, and several other occupations that Fimund can't even remember. His father failed at all of these things, but kept thinking up some new plan to strike it rich. The stress of that lifestyle turned out to be too much for Fimund's mother, a small, frail dwarven maid named Leena. She had nearly died giving birth to Fimund, and had never tried to have another child. Fimund loved her dearly and spent as much time with her as he could, always discussing which of the Brathmodakin and paragons were most to be admired. He always chose Yemakar, and of course she loved Anbella. But after decades of exhausting travel and poor living conditions, she finally fell ill with a very bad case of Ki'katta. Jormund had traveled to Abresi to buy 10,000 bottles of a sham love potion, so Fimund was left to care for her himself. After several weeks, her condition continued to deteriorate. The dwarven physicians could do nothing for her in her delicate condition. In desperation, he decided to take her to the Cloud Temple in search of a cure. But it was too late. She died on the road a few hours from the temple, and he buried her in an unmarked grave in a forest beneath a small mountain. That was the last straw for the young dwarf. He wants nothing more to do with his father, and now he plans to set out on his own and find a place to settle down among the peaks of the Dwarven mountains. Ambitions for the Future: Fimund just wants to find something he is good at, and settle down to a quiet life of moderate prosperity. He is afraid that he might turn out to be just as unfocused and hapless as his father, but he is determined not to fail. Despite his desire to settle down, he still has an adventurous streak that won't quite go away.

[size="5"] Kohgir "Krogulec" Ironarmpit [/size] Nicknames: Krogulec, The Gearwheel Age: 324 Gender: Male Race: Dwarf Status: Still Kickin' Description Height: 137 cm Weight: 125 kg Body Type: Big bones Eyes: Brown Hair: Brownish/Ginger Skin: White Markings/Tattoos: Ancient Dwarvish Builder Tatoo, The Anvil of Kal'Urguan Tattoo Health: 75% Ale 15% Blood... Healthy! Personality: Friendly with restrictions Inventory: The Hammer of Kal'Urguan, Diamond Armor of the Kal'Urguan Protectors, Bloody Axe of Kal'Urguan Further Details: Still angry for the fall of Kal'Urguan, filled with hatred to the Undead and lack of any help from other nations except for the few heroes he recruited chasing like mad from Elven holy city Laurelin to Human great fortress (which he is fond of even though it was built by humans) [size="3"] Life Style [/size] Alignment*: Chaotic Good Deity*: Yemekar Religion: Brathmordakin Alliance/Nation/Home Job/Class: Title(s): Profession(s): Builder, Blacksmith Special Skill(s): First to Fight, Axe Master, Mad Anvil Master Flaw(s): Bloodthirsty, Enemy of the Orcs, First to Forget Last to Forgive. [size="3"] Magic* [/size] Current Status: Arcane/Runic Arch-type: Sub-Type: Rank: Weakness(es): Strength(s): Current Spell(s): [size="3"] Weaponry [/size] Fighting Style: Axe-fighter Trained Weapon: Axe Favored Weapon: Axe Archery: Axe throwing? Biography Parents: Grimmir "The Mad" Ironarmpit, Borenhilde "Wild Winds" Golden Siblings: Lost brother - Unknown Children: NONE Extended Family: Unknown Pet(s): Is an Axe a pet? History Kohgir has been between his people for a very long time, always watching, mining the richness of Kal'Urguan, when he became the first Blacksmith of the ancient capitol with his home in front of the kings castle he was able to make regular trips on the court of King Simmpa, after Simmpa's tragic death, Krogulec, as he liked to be called, co-operated with the Great Overseer Charles in building another city deep in the mountain situated in the forest North-East of the capitol; Kal'Alras. Further co-operation led to his growth in the social classes of the mountain dwellers, and when the Baron Balin was selected as the next leader pertractations began to allow Khogir to be the Grand Master of the Guilds in the dwarven kingdom. The pertractations sadly had to end abruptly as the evil army of the Undead was approaching the front gate. This is when he was called, and feeling the call of his brethren he dropped everything and began construction of the weaponry and armors made of the finest Kal'Urguan diamonds, mined from the heart of the holy mountain itself. With the army prepared he then wore his armor, took the axe and waited for the army to come, running errands all over the gate, preparing for the worst... They waited days and nights but the army was no-where to be seen, so he went on to observe where could they be, after long and fruitless search he returned to the gate where he was stationed to receive an order to go to other nations and request additional help, he went on first to the elves where no-one would want to help him except for one brave elvish archer, and upon leaving another elvish fighter, they then marched on to the human fortress where the great paladin offered to help... by sending a human female warrior with them, the human proposed to see the orcs but Kohgir automatically rejected such stupid suggestion as he wanted to see them burn in the fires of hell! Who needs those orcs! the only thing they do is look green and smell bad...worse than his grandmothers farts after eating her legendary wild-been stew. Maybe not that bad, but still, they stink. The human was right however, so they went on to the orcish village and as much as Kohgir never said a word he was welcomed coldly after being known for slaughtering orcs one by one and in bigger groups on the outskirts of their sand castle, not to mention stealing the materials... and punching holes in their walls... and other sabotage-related deeds. They have not as much as agreed but out of fear(!) decided to send two of their brothers with the group, but only after Kohgir signed a paper he is not going to murder them on the way. After coming back to the main gate the reaction of seeing Kohgir with group of travellers ready to fight for Kal'Urguan everyone was very happy, indeed they started even singing some song about ale but were somewhat drunk so the exact words escaped Kohgir before this was written, however it mention gold, ale, more gold, some diamonds and inexplicit words between the verses. The jollyness did not last very long as some of the least drunk dwarves realized, upon closer inspection there were two orcs in the group, they quickly began drawing their swords, sobering up second to second and at first Kohgir wanted to let them do their deed, and have fun with orcish meat, but quick reminder that he signed with his three cosses the packt assuring the safety of these orcs led him to explain the situation to his brethren. Bewildered brothers, agreed it is better to get them drunk and act as if it was an accident so that they did... However upon drinking the orcs, probably by cheating, or sorcery of some sort, happened to win the drinking contest with the most ale-potent dwarf... or maybe he was drunk already?... so they ended up being guests of honour betwixt the dwarves. Which will never happen again. Hopefully. That is the orcs winning the drinking contest, not the guests of honour bit. Kohgir after days of travel and hectoliters of ale poured that night in order to not kill orcs felt great urge to not wake up from his cozy anvil bed, what more he found a letter on the table next to his bed, opened and ready to read, as he found his beard was glued to the bed and he was somewhat stuck... it was probably due to the strange rope around his legs and the fact his armpit hair were also plotted around the bed. Back to the letter it read: "Ha-Ha, Dwarbf, yu be so stoopid, meaning to be us drunker dan yu! wee ween yu louose, yu be skippin da fite wen wee fite de unded yu never gin onor! we beet dem an den we attak ur sity!" The rage had built up in Kohgir, he was so incredibly angry he tried getting up so hard and for so long he almost ran ut of breath, as he heard his brthren fighting on the outside, screams of agony and clings or armours and weaponry crafted by him were heard all across the city, He knew if he does not leave now he will miss out on some serious undead arse kicking. He would struggle so much the knots on his legs and across his belly were getting tighter and tighter to the point his white..pinkish skin turned smurf. Last look at the note assured him it surely were these orcs. As he continuead his struggle the voices went silent, for a minute he thought the battle was won and over but then he heard last orders of Charles to withdraw and run towards to mountain... this was first time that ever happened, no-one messes with dwarves and wins... As the clings of running soldiers went silent he heard his house door opening with a great power. He tried looking but he would barely see anything considering the hangover, lack of breath and general thirst there was someone allright! Then the being approached him and everything went blank. Nothingness, no feelings, no thirst, no struggle, no thoughts, pure and dark nothing. Artwork

I don't really know what to say for a short introduction, heh. I've been on the server for nearly two years, and in that time, I've brainstormed, created, nurtured, and killed many, many characters. It's been a long, fun run and now I believe it's time I finally "document" my characters, what they accomplished, their offspring, etc. All that good stuff. Buckle down and enjoy the ride. Or, if you're looking for a certain character in particular, consult the table below. Ever, the Drunken Dwarf: Post 1 Ingot, the Swordmaiden: Post 2 Alyssi, the Mountaintamer: Post 3 Steve, the Renatus Courier: Post 4 Sylvia Cyrus: Post 5 Karvia Starbreaker: Post 6 Dryads! Kollodis, Doste, and Mitera: Post 7 Hapsi Ludkhov: Post 8 Al Q'mess: Post 9 Apple Dryad Mitera: Post 10 Hord, Apple Dryad Doste, and other not so important characters: Post 11 A family tree: Post 12

brown hare mostly bald golden sholder and knee pads a beard reaching down to his chest and a 6 pack. srong relyable and a good miner great with a axe. 21 of age (just old enough to drink). my home is Kal_Azgoth my name is Einian. i am a man. id like to join the server for fun rping and to hopefully bring the spice i bring with me everywere. also im derpy.