[hider=Vrarok][center][IMG]http://i66.tinypic.com/2dkfsqf.jpg[/IMG] [Vrarok, 35, pictured with his 'third wife' Kara] [color=568A54][h1][b]Vrarok Adalsteune[/b][/h1][/color][/center] [hr] [color=568A54][b]Age:[/b][/color] 56 [color=568A54][b]Race:[/b][/color] Dwarf [color=568A54][b]Personality:[/b][/color] If one were to ask somebody close to Vrarok Adalsteune what the dwarf was like, the answers would not paint the prettiest picture. While a loyal friend to those who can tolerate the chaos, Vrarok embodies the concept of a larrikin. He has never responded well to authority, being quick to remind anyone that tries to lord over him that he is worthy of equal respect, a tendency that has become habitual since his dealings with elves and humans. However, believing you are worthy of respect and behaving in a manner deserving of it are two different concepts entirely. Vrarok acts before he thinks, if he ever thinks. He is a reputable deviant, a rogue in many regards, defying any restraints that others may cast upon him. His recklessness, impulsive spirit and often destructive personality have credited him with a moniker that coincides with his own personal philosophies and beliefs; to many, the dwarf in the jade cloak is known as “the Anarchist”. [color=568A54][b]Backstory:[/b][/color] Vrarok hails from the dwarven stronghold of Idunn, known also as the Black Bastion. With its smouldering forges and wicked onyx spires creeping out of the Ivuldiruuk (‘mountain of smiths’), the city boasts an impressive subterranean fighting force in the form of the Black Guard. It is in Idunn, and within the ranks of the Black Guard, that our story begins. Vrarok was born to the Clan of Adalsteune, the founders and imposing crown of the Black Guard. As the son of the Magnara of Adalsteune, Vrarok was born into a life of expectations and responsibilities. From the time he could walk, his mother wanted him groomed and prepared for the grit and the grime that all dwarves taking the black are accustomed to. He was given two tutors: Sidi, who educated him as befit the son of a noble, and Kuvar, who taught him the ways of combat and how to hone his one true love in life – the gun. With Sidi, he would study history and engineering in the vast stone halls of their manse, but with Kuvar he would learn how to fight. Despite enjoying many freedoms and adoring his tutors, Vrarok was defiant and forever intent on doing as he pleased. As a child, he was afforded leniency in his desires, a luxury that he would later be deprived of. As the winters faded into spring, and the young dwarf matured, his talent for marksmanship had drawn the eye of his mother. She watched closely as her child grew into an adult. Unbeknownst to him, his entire future had been mapped out, a cage of politics, war and responsibilities hewn for him by his mother and her advisors. Upon his fifteenth winter, he was to join the Black Guard. On his sixteenth, he descended into the bowels of Ivuldiruuk for the first time. The mines beneath the city covered many leagues, a labyrinth of dark tunnels and undiscovered treasures waiting to be liberated from the rock. However, life as a dwarven miner was dangerous, and in recent years the ratoskr presence had grown. Their attacks were more frequent, and the miners (while capable of defending themselves), required additional protection. This had always been the charge of the Black Guard, to best the darkness, and to battle whatever monsters may lurk within it for the good of Idunn. Vrarok detested it. It was a life of routine, of obeying and listening, of constant violence and vigilance. Hours were uncounted, and days and nights had blurred into a singular torment. When one was not resting, he was patrolling, or fighting, or grieving for the loss of a comrade. He spent three years in the tunnels until a particularly catastrophic encounter with a ratoskr almost ended his life. By his mother’s decree, he was to be withdrawn from the depths to recover in the city. When he awoke, he was free from the nightmare and the skittering dark. He was relieved, until he discovered that he had been taken from one hell and bound into another: marriage. As the eldest son and heir to the Clan of Adalsteune, he had a duty, one that he was to fulfil immediately. His mother had arranged for him to marry the daughter of the city’s thane, a deal which would ensure the continued prosperity of Idunn. His refusal was met with an ultimatum – marry, or return to the depths until death. Overwhelmed by the chains his mother had ensnared him in, Vrarok abandoned the black and fled the city. With him, he brought his blunderbuss and axe. The next year, he wandered alone until he found the city of Tyberia. It was a metropolis, a mixing pot of races and creeds and cultures. It was so foreign to him, so bizarre, and yet he fell in love with it almost instantly. When he first arrived, he made a living as a mercenary and a guard-for-hire. However, the temptation of shadier dealings pulled him in, and soon he had established himself as a prominent criminal. His talents found him in the company of the Legion of Lead, a mostly dwarven gang linked to the city’s underworld. For years, he worked alongside them, earning a share of their profits and establishing quite a reputation for himself. However, his dealings with them were tenuous at best, and his chaotic nature often jeopardised delicate operations. His recklessness and the trail of destruction he often left behind him led to him almost being arrested on multiple occasions, barely escaping each time. Despite all of this, his love for the city had never faded. He had freedom, a life liberated from responsibilities and expectations and restrictions. He answered to no one but himself, and had complete control over what he did and who he associated with. For him, it was bliss. Yet, when Asgard invaded, things in the city rapidly changed. Perhaps it was his love for the city, or perhaps it was the anarchist within the dwarf that compelled him to join the revolutionaries and encourage any and all defiance against the empire. Whatever it was, Vrarok Adalsteune has made the city’s liberation his personal mission. Note: Following his departure from Idunn, during his year of solitary travels, Vrarok began personalising his blunderbuss. He began referring to it as “she”, and named it Mordare. This habit would manifest with all of his guns, as well as the notion that they are his ‘wives’. [color=568A54][b]Skills & Abilities:[/b][/color] [list][*][b]Adept Marksmanship:[/b] From the moment he could hold one, Vrarok Adalsteune has been honing his talents as a gunner. In his youth, he preferred the close-range capabilities of a blunderbuss, but now he enjoys the comfort of a rifle. [*][b]Professional Axeman:[/b] Though his proficiency with an axe has waned with his age, he is still able to swing one well enough to hold his own against most. That being said, he is still more at home with a rifle. [*][b]Professional Engineer:[/b] As most dwarves are, Vrarok has a mind wired for ingenuity and artifice. His skills as an engineer have allowed him to build his own rifles and help him make a profit. [b]Journeyman Miner:[/b] He was never too good at being delicate and extracting precious ore and stones. That being said, show him a gemstone or mineral and he's likely to know exactly what it is and how to work with it.[/list] [color=568A54][b]Equipment:[/b][/color] [list][*][b]Valkhyr, the Winged Woman:[/b] a rifle of his own making, this is the fifth gun he's owned. Valkhyr is long and beautiful, with a glistening golden barrel etched with silver filigree. It is capable of firing from quite a distance, allowing the owner to use it from a safe distance. [*][b]Great Axe, Mithril:[/b] A long and heavy single-edged axe that may appear small to most, but to a dwarf, it is of an ideal weight and length to hack and slash enemies. It is forged with mithril and shimmers with a slight emerald hue when light hits it. [*][b]Vrarok's Jade Cloak:[/b] his oldest possession is a jade cloak that he first purchased in Tyberia. He wears it almost all of the time, and it holds great sentimental significance to him.[/list][/hider] [hr] And here we have it. Scrutinise away! I may have missed a few details or taken a few too many liberties with the world but point me in the right direction and I shall amend whatever needs amending. :)