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Name: Angus Tordum
Age: 67
Gender: Male(?)
Appearance: Angus is moderately sized for a Dwarf at 3'7. He is however stocky even for one of his kinsmen, seemingly flabby and rotund but possessing muscles that become quite visible as he stresses them. He has citrus orange hair that is lighter at the roots (thanks soot and dirt not reaching them) and bark-brown eyes. Angus has a short but strawberry-shaped nose with his eyes similarly small but of a more olive shape. His hair is organized into two large ropes of his mustache, his bear going free down to his clavicle, while the hair on his head forms somewhat of a mullet being short at the front yet going almost as low as his beard from behind.
He has a small but tightly fitting miner's helm on his head placed over a thick but skintight leather cowl. The helm has two real horns kept sharp pointing upwards, with leather straps to secure the whole business to his head. The helmet also has a specially designed polished steel mirror at the front, double-sided and unscrewing with one side concave and the other convex. This is placed behind a candle so that light from it is reflected over a wide area or is concentrated to illuminate what Angus is looking at from afar. That said, it is rarely used other than in the deepest and perhaps most supernatural of mines. He has a one piece chainmail body suit running from his neck to his toes but omitting his arms, occasionally gleaming as he moves. Over this he wears a tight suit of leather covering very similar areas of his body with or cloth sewn in at various intervals for the few cases he needs warmth. After that he is protected by a set of extremely thick shoulder and knee guards, alongside thick and steel capped leather boots and gloves. Should warmth be an issue, he carries a bear-hide cloak.
One will also never see him without various tools of the trade. Lanterns, a shovel, a heavy two-handed mining pick, a sleeping bag, pots, pans, cooking utensils, and other things necessary for possibly months long survival in the deepest of mines. His pride however is an old heirloom pick. On one side, it is a pickaxe useful for gathering various interesting and useful minerals. The other side is a hammer, to stop anyone in his path to gather these interesting and useful minerals. He also has with him a strong but battered recurve bow with several dozen arrows usually wrapped and an oily rag to light on fire. Depending on the situation he will also carry some of his family's brew with him as either means to keep the cold out or an emergency fire starter.
Skills and Flaws: Even at his age Angus is a skilled miner. Strong, quick-thinking if not precisely intelligent, dextrous, perceptive, and surprisingly agile despite the stocky build and stumpy legs of his race. Angus is a born miner, but does not shy away from other skills like fighting which have come in quite handy when dealing with denizens of the deep. He is also a somewhat accurate shot with a bow, however his true proficiency in archery is the speed at which he can draw his bow and shoot it, as well as the massive pull-weights he can handle to proper arrows as far down a mineshaft as might be needed to explode a pocket of gas.
However, he has many other issues that are typical and some atypical to Dwarves. Greed, stubborness, and grudge holding only begin to describe them. He has an undoubtedly inflated opinion of himself, is quite a drunkard even in serious potentially catastrophic situations in the mines (although he claims the ale helps him work... which it admittedly might)
Background: Angus was born to a long dynasty of brewers. They made (arguably) the finest ale in the deeps, well known for its creaminess that could last weeks without dissipating. It would seem he would go on in the family trade, for he just like his predecessors had an aptitude for the craft.
All went well, until the birth of his brother Snorri. He grew like a weed, and was more or less the definition of a child prodigy. The youngster had learned all his brother had at the age of twenty, and by forty had long since surpassed him. Angus tried his best, he worked night and day without interruption but he was no match for the little bastard.
In this vein, as his importance diminished so did his parents love for him until they began to grow cold, and eventually even feel animosity towards him. The young Dwarf was angry, angry as could be. The little upstart had taken most of what he had to himself, all he had left were things willed to him in old contracts.
Angus had few real skills outside of brewing, but this didn't matter, it was never too late to learn! Thus he went off into the deeps, purchased a pick and set off to work. He was initially a poor miner, only having seen how to use a pick in books. But he learned, and quickly. Angus soon had become a popular member of the workforce for he could brew for his worker-family at a moments notice to keep up the miner's rhythm. In the foundations of Dwarfen society, he had found happiness.
He has now worked for several decades in the deep, gaining skills, knowledge and perspectives he never before considered. Yet, adventure called. Eldest sons were selected all across the civilization of the Dwarves. Though initially wary, Angus stepped forth smelling the call of greatness and glory. If he were to succeed, or to fall, he knew his tale would be counted.
Miscellaneous: He's a bit of a badass ngl
