[b]Username:[/b] The Irish Tree

[b]Name:[/b] Tordavask Dorbenesh 
 
[b]Race:[/b] Iron Elf

[b]Age:[/b] 25

[b]Gender:[/b] Male

[b]Homeland:[/b] TERRA

[b]Appearance:[/b] Tordavask at a first glance isn’t anything special or different from the typical male Iron Elf, he has dusky brown skin, and his hair is a steely gray, and is fairly straight. His irises are a deep maroon, and he has the typical black sclera.
 [img=http://i.imgur.com/r1t5I6t.jpg] 
(I’m sorry he looks so fucking evil, but honestly this was the only thing I could find that wasn’t completely gaaaaaaaaaaay.) 

[b]Size:[/b] Tordavask has a rather slim build, like most elves, though a bit more muscular than average. He stand at 5’6, and has relatively broad shoulders for his size. 

[b]Elemental Affinity:[/b] Water

[b]Bio:[/b] Tordavask was born into a relatively poor family, so much so that his parents died of famine while trying to at least keep him fed enough to live. Being flung into an orphanage at an early age didn;t affect him quite as much as it would other people, he always just tried to look on the bright side of things; in an orphanage at least he wouldn’t have to worry about going cold or hungry until he came of legal age or someone adopted him, though the adoption came quicker than he’d expected, if he expected it at all.

At the age of 6, he was taken in by a dwarven chemist by the name of Grij Dorbenesh, who did his best to teach the young elf his craft, and lo and behind, many chemical burns and burned-off eyebrows later, Tordavask could finally make a proper mixture. Living life near the outskirts of the Dwarven Highlands, the father and son had to make a living on the side, because really, how much money can you really make off of just chemicals? So, they had a small fur trading industry to themselves, trapping the less dangerous beasties of the Sylvan Jungle, and selling the pelts off as well as the valuable parts. Over time however, the pelt trading began slowing down, and Grij unfortunately fell into debt over time. Hoping to scrounge enough money for them to live comfortably, Tordavask left their home unbeknownst to his adoptive father to head to Rosa, hoping to find wealth in mercenary work.

[b]Personality:[/b] Overall, Tordavask is a rather ingenuitive type of person, preferring to think his way out of problems, and often can see problems arising before they happen. He is somewhat paranoid of strangers, but if he warms up to them, he’ll be as friendly as any other Iron Elf. He also likes to avoid confrontation if he can help it, as he doesn’t really have the “walk” to go with his “talk”.

[b]Skills:[/b]
Minor Engineering
Chemistry
Sleight of Hand
“One Hell of a throwing arm”
Grenade Knowledge
Minor Knife Skill
Trap Making
Being a Sneaky Little Elf

[b]Equipment:[/b] 
Various flasks of Acidic shits that’ll burn through soft metals and stone if given enough time
Tear Gas Grenades
Tungsten Wire Grenades
Gum Grenades
3ft. of piano wire
.45 ACP Luger (He’s a really shitty shot with guns, he just carries one for when they’re too close for a grenade, but too far to stab.)
Iron Dirk

[b]Other:[/b] Likes pies. ‘Specially pecan. Don’t ask if he likes rhubarb though, that shit’s nasty.