Discord
Changelog
03-20-2014, 03:42 PM
(This post was last modified: 03-21-2014, 08:23 AM by Necromancing the Stone.)
Name: Gloyne Stonebeard
Race: Shield Dwarf
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Class: Monk/Fighter/Dwarven Defender
Deity of Worship: Moradin
Appearance:
Gloyne is immense by Dwarven Standards. He stands over 5.5 feet tall, and weighs nearly 300 pounds. He is very fat, but the muscles on his arms and legs are easy to see, and mark him as immensely strong. His hair is jet black, which he keeps bald on the very top of his head, but swept back into a long, braided pony tail in the back. His beard is thick, and long. He keeps it oiled and perfumed, and has symbols of the Dwarven gods woven into the braids he keeps loving care of.
His body is heavily tattooed, all of which are holy dwarven symbols done in gold, silver, dark browns, deep grays, and other earth colors. He is heavily scarred from battle, the most notable of which is a long jagged scar the extends from above his right eye, across his nose and down past his left cheek bone. His eye still appears to function normally, despite the deep, old scar.
When he speaks, his voice is deep, thick, and harsh. He is jovial, and always seems to have a joke on the edge of his lips. He smiles broad toothy grins often, but his body odor, and lack of hygiene in all areas except for his beard can be off-putting.
Background of Clan Stonebeard:
Clan Stonebeard.
The deepest, darkest clan of the Sunrise mountains.
Situated in the heart of the range, riding on top of the underdark like an bottle floats on the sea, the clanhome of Stonebeard is a tumultuous, violent, and beautiful place.
![[Image: HELTENE02Xcopy_1205242446_1205242466.jpg]](http://gfx.dagbladet.no/pub/artikkel/5/52/529/529408/HELTENE02Xcopy_1205242446_1205242466.jpg)
Clan Stonebeard is rich in precious gems, hidden deep in the earth. Gold, silver, and other precious metals are also available, but precious stones is where the true wealth of the clan lay. The ruby mine is particularly fruitful, and the Dwarves of the clan consistently recorded the finding of rubies the size of a fist.
For centuries, the Stonebeards toiled in their mine. They protected their borders from the constant incursions from the Underdark by Drow and Duergar. The famous Stonebeard Dwarven Defenders, known as Stonebeard Shields, stood hard and fast, breaking the lines of all who dared attack. The pinnacle of Dwarven Fortitude, it is said the Stonebeard Shields can drink a dozen pints of ale and never have to move their feet while fighting hordes of goblins. Whether this boast is true or not is immaterial. Questioning the honor and integrity of a Stonebeard Shield is to invite a solid punch to the face.
Biography of Gloyne Stonebeard
The muffled thud of dozens of picks slamming into the stone of the Stonebeard mines rumbled through the house. They were a constant sound, soothing in their repetitiveness, comforting in their perpetualness. Gloyne leaned back in his chair, his ale half empty as the reverie took him over. He was awash in nostalgia for the time honored sounds his clanhome gave him when he remembered why he was in this particular chair at this particular moment. He rocked back forward in his chair and shook his head clear of distractions.
Fadda, why does we avoid Thay when we tradin? Da country is awash in riches, an t'would be a good source of revenue fa us ta start sendin' goods dere. It ain't loike its 'arder ta git there den anywhere else from dis deep in da mountain.
Gloyne wiped the froth from his face with the back of his hand.
You stay away from Thay! Dats final! Oi ain't goan 'ave me only son taken as a slave an workin da mines. Ya 'ave a future 'ere in dis clan. Ya goan be a true Stonebeard Shield, defendah of ya clan, an leader of ya people. Ya goan find a fat bearded wife ta make fat bearded chilluns fa ya, and fill dis 'all with da laffta a Dwarf deserves in 'is older years.
Gloynes father sighed heavily.
Oi know da Thundah Blessin' 'as been a lil rough on ya. Da clan, 'ell all Dwarf clans, 'ave swolled. SOme loike ours 'ave swolled beyond capacity. It been great fa us old Dwarves ta see us thrive agin, loike da stories of old, but you young'uns is strainin ta find ya way in da world. Sa many, sa fast, its na wondah ya kinna find ya identity.
His father picked up and paced the floor his massive arms clasped behind his back.
But ya 'as a future 'ere! Doan be foolish an trow dat away chasin pipe dreams!
Gloyne stood up strong and tall, forcing his father to stop in his tracks.
![[Image: 057___the_Dwarven_wall_WIP_by_roadkillblues.jpg]](http://th01.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2010/101/c/9/057___the_Dwarven_wall_WIP_by_roadkillblues.jpg)
Oi isna lost, fadda. Oi am a Shield Dwarf, Protector of ALL me kin. Wit da warriahs ya 'ave comin of age 'ere, ya doan need me as an extra link in da wall. Oi am needed elsewhere. Moradin calls me 'eart. 'E calls me ta Thay ta provide some comfort an sheltah to da ones dat 'avena been lucky enough ta remain free.
His father began to rage against him, but the power of Gloyne's words cut through his instincts to protect his son from harm.
Oi ain't goan dere ta try an buck tradition. Oi ain't goan there on na crusade ta free me kin. Oi know dat ain't goan 'appen. Ya didna raise a fool of a Dwarf, fadda. Oi goan dere ta carve out a place fer dwarves, ALL dwarves ta go an find some measure of 'ome, some measure of peace, e'en if its fer a minute or two.
Oi goan. And dats dat. Oi love ya fadda, ya raised me ta be 'onorable an fair. Oi willna stop now cause its da 'ard ting ta do.
He reached over to the table and grabbed his half drunk ale. He raised in salute to his father.
'Ail Moradin! 'Ail Clan Stonebeard. An 'Ail Khazad-Thay.
He tipped back his pint, draining it dry in a single short pull. Unbeknownst to his father his meager belongings were already packed. He gathered them up, hugged his father and began walking out of the hall of stone, unsure if it was the last time he would ever see it.
Break it ta ma gentle. Oi kinna 'andle 'er tears tahday.
Then he was gone. His father watched until he could not see him anymore. The hall was long, but he wished for just a few more feet to give him another moment or two of seeing his son as he walked away. He remained still, listening for the sound of his boot steps, until he could hear those no longer.
He then sat still a while longer, watching listening...waiting...to see if he would come back. After nearly an hour, with only memories of the son he had trained, loved, and taught filling his mind, he moved. It was time to go and tell Gloyne's mother, and pray to Moradin for the strength to hold her back from marching after him and dragging Gloyne home by the beard.
Race: Shield Dwarf
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Class: Monk/Fighter/Dwarven Defender
Deity of Worship: Moradin
Appearance:
Gloyne is immense by Dwarven Standards. He stands over 5.5 feet tall, and weighs nearly 300 pounds. He is very fat, but the muscles on his arms and legs are easy to see, and mark him as immensely strong. His hair is jet black, which he keeps bald on the very top of his head, but swept back into a long, braided pony tail in the back. His beard is thick, and long. He keeps it oiled and perfumed, and has symbols of the Dwarven gods woven into the braids he keeps loving care of.
His body is heavily tattooed, all of which are holy dwarven symbols done in gold, silver, dark browns, deep grays, and other earth colors. He is heavily scarred from battle, the most notable of which is a long jagged scar the extends from above his right eye, across his nose and down past his left cheek bone. His eye still appears to function normally, despite the deep, old scar.
When he speaks, his voice is deep, thick, and harsh. He is jovial, and always seems to have a joke on the edge of his lips. He smiles broad toothy grins often, but his body odor, and lack of hygiene in all areas except for his beard can be off-putting.
Background of Clan Stonebeard:
Clan Stonebeard.
The deepest, darkest clan of the Sunrise mountains.
Situated in the heart of the range, riding on top of the underdark like an bottle floats on the sea, the clanhome of Stonebeard is a tumultuous, violent, and beautiful place.
Clan Stonebeard is rich in precious gems, hidden deep in the earth. Gold, silver, and other precious metals are also available, but precious stones is where the true wealth of the clan lay. The ruby mine is particularly fruitful, and the Dwarves of the clan consistently recorded the finding of rubies the size of a fist.
For centuries, the Stonebeards toiled in their mine. They protected their borders from the constant incursions from the Underdark by Drow and Duergar. The famous Stonebeard Dwarven Defenders, known as Stonebeard Shields, stood hard and fast, breaking the lines of all who dared attack. The pinnacle of Dwarven Fortitude, it is said the Stonebeard Shields can drink a dozen pints of ale and never have to move their feet while fighting hordes of goblins. Whether this boast is true or not is immaterial. Questioning the honor and integrity of a Stonebeard Shield is to invite a solid punch to the face.
Biography of Gloyne Stonebeard
The muffled thud of dozens of picks slamming into the stone of the Stonebeard mines rumbled through the house. They were a constant sound, soothing in their repetitiveness, comforting in their perpetualness. Gloyne leaned back in his chair, his ale half empty as the reverie took him over. He was awash in nostalgia for the time honored sounds his clanhome gave him when he remembered why he was in this particular chair at this particular moment. He rocked back forward in his chair and shook his head clear of distractions.
Fadda, why does we avoid Thay when we tradin? Da country is awash in riches, an t'would be a good source of revenue fa us ta start sendin' goods dere. It ain't loike its 'arder ta git there den anywhere else from dis deep in da mountain.
Gloyne wiped the froth from his face with the back of his hand.
You stay away from Thay! Dats final! Oi ain't goan 'ave me only son taken as a slave an workin da mines. Ya 'ave a future 'ere in dis clan. Ya goan be a true Stonebeard Shield, defendah of ya clan, an leader of ya people. Ya goan find a fat bearded wife ta make fat bearded chilluns fa ya, and fill dis 'all with da laffta a Dwarf deserves in 'is older years.
Gloynes father sighed heavily.
Oi know da Thundah Blessin' 'as been a lil rough on ya. Da clan, 'ell all Dwarf clans, 'ave swolled. SOme loike ours 'ave swolled beyond capacity. It been great fa us old Dwarves ta see us thrive agin, loike da stories of old, but you young'uns is strainin ta find ya way in da world. Sa many, sa fast, its na wondah ya kinna find ya identity.
His father picked up and paced the floor his massive arms clasped behind his back.
But ya 'as a future 'ere! Doan be foolish an trow dat away chasin pipe dreams!
Gloyne stood up strong and tall, forcing his father to stop in his tracks.
Oi isna lost, fadda. Oi am a Shield Dwarf, Protector of ALL me kin. Wit da warriahs ya 'ave comin of age 'ere, ya doan need me as an extra link in da wall. Oi am needed elsewhere. Moradin calls me 'eart. 'E calls me ta Thay ta provide some comfort an sheltah to da ones dat 'avena been lucky enough ta remain free.
His father began to rage against him, but the power of Gloyne's words cut through his instincts to protect his son from harm.
Oi ain't goan dere ta try an buck tradition. Oi ain't goan there on na crusade ta free me kin. Oi know dat ain't goan 'appen. Ya didna raise a fool of a Dwarf, fadda. Oi goan dere ta carve out a place fer dwarves, ALL dwarves ta go an find some measure of 'ome, some measure of peace, e'en if its fer a minute or two.
Oi goan. And dats dat. Oi love ya fadda, ya raised me ta be 'onorable an fair. Oi willna stop now cause its da 'ard ting ta do.
He reached over to the table and grabbed his half drunk ale. He raised in salute to his father.
'Ail Moradin! 'Ail Clan Stonebeard. An 'Ail Khazad-Thay.
He tipped back his pint, draining it dry in a single short pull. Unbeknownst to his father his meager belongings were already packed. He gathered them up, hugged his father and began walking out of the hall of stone, unsure if it was the last time he would ever see it.
Break it ta ma gentle. Oi kinna 'andle 'er tears tahday.
Then he was gone. His father watched until he could not see him anymore. The hall was long, but he wished for just a few more feet to give him another moment or two of seeing his son as he walked away. He remained still, listening for the sound of his boot steps, until he could hear those no longer.
He then sat still a while longer, watching listening...waiting...to see if he would come back. After nearly an hour, with only memories of the son he had trained, loved, and taught filling his mind, he moved. It was time to go and tell Gloyne's mother, and pray to Moradin for the strength to hold her back from marching after him and dragging Gloyne home by the beard.