[hider=Brokk Ghammarad.]
Age: 449

Race: Dawi

Profession: Dwarf Ranger

Equipment: A long scoped Dwarf Handgun with a sling, lots of powder shot and cartridges, three throwing Azes, hand-Grund (hammer), and a miner's blasting charge. If heavy combat is expected, he will bring along a cinderblast bomb, ranger's cloak, small medical kit and most importantly; his personal book of grudges.   

Personality: Just slightly senile, he is not exactly a typical longbeard. He has spent his life grumbling, looking to the old days, and arguing with other Dwarfs, and does not wish to spend his old days like that. He is a relatively friendly chap, always ready to share some Bugman's be you umgi or halfling, and does not even hate elves too much, rather just carrying a mild dislike and wariness. He wishes to go around and see more of the world rather than just his relatively sheltered albeit wondrous home of Everpeak. He wishes to go where no Dawi has gone before. He is quick to see people as "friends" and becomes very protective of them. 	

Appearance:
[img]http://i.imgur.com/7KGfRHx.jpg[/img]
He is relatively tall for a Dwarf at 4ft, which would be a whopping 4'6 if not for his hunch. He has a surprisingly short beard for a Dwarf that is only fifty years from death, and it is well if slightly unevenly trimmed; he does not let anyone else touch it, and has difficult if he does not have a mirror available. His eyes are a milky green, although still very keen and always twitching left and right on the lookout. His facial hair is white, while his head despite balding extremely quickly still retains a few black hairs. He will often have impermanent tattoos on his body to make goblins and such have difficulty seeing him in the woods, knowing that mere paint comes off in the rain and such while dirt is unhygienic. Both of the parts of his ear where one would usually get a piercing are burned off. He will wear a leather jerkin and pants with naught but his (extremely thick) cloak over it, although his boots are great steel capped things to give his enemies a good kicking. 

Bio: 

Brokk was born into a family of Dwarf miners who were very lucky finding a seam of Gromril, and successfully guarding it from the Skaven that wanted the warpstone found near it (although this was no difficulty considering they live in Karaz-a-Karak, the wealthiest of the Karaz Ankor). However, when his father was forced to take him through the surface to get to another mine-shaft he saw the wonder of the surface, and decided he wanted more. 

At the mere age of 45 he left his crying parents home and went to the nearest Ranger outpost and became one of them. While young and naive he soon learned the ropes of wazzock-slaying. He wielded an az well, and a crossbow better. He was taught the more intricate means of destroying enemies of the Ever-lasting realm, setting up boulder traps, making improvised bombs, so on and so forth.

Eventually he became the leader of his Ranger outpost, so he began to oversee a much larger area. After successfully trailing a band of forest Goblins with his fellow Dawi his travels made him end up at Zhufbar, where his lads took short refuge. At his second day of respite he saw a lassie he fell in love with at first sight. When he approached her the two enjoyed speaking with one another, and kept doing so for a whole day. When Ghammarad confessed  his feelings however, she said she was the daughter of a prominent Thane and thus he would have to ask his hand in marriage. When he approached him, he was laughed off for being a ranger but had the Thane's attention when he said his family were Gromril miners. He asked for proof, and Ghammarad obliged. 

However, to his woe he returned to find the son of the resident Lord to be going to marry the girl and he was heartbroken, especially to see such an incompetent, fat and carefree Dwarf get her hand in marriage. He discovered a week later that he was killed under strange circumstances, and he took his chances after waiting for the grieving to end. He obtained her father's agreement, and then took her out to one of the underground pools of blue water. Just as he was about to propose a green shot went into her, and several more followed. Skaven jezzaillers had unleashed a volley and a massive attack followed. When the battle was over he had nothing left to do but return to his post and toil on miserably. 

When Ghammarad became 400 years old he had finally stopped his self-pity and loathing and decided to get a grip on himself. He returned himself to peak physical shape, cleaned himself up and joined the nearest longbeards going to fight the enemies of Dwarfdom. For fifty years he cleaved, shot and smashed his way through Skaven and Goblins in the underway, until there seemed to be a short-break in the fighting. He realised that he had nothing to do and searched his memory for what his childhood dream was and remembered: it was to see the world, and so he did, going to a strange artifact collecting man to work and travel. 


Reason for joining: He wants to not only see the world but [i]experience[/i] it. As far as he sees, this is the best way. 

Terrible secret: PM'd.
[/hider]