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DARP- The Dalish Curse
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<blockquote data-quote="Voda Vosa" data-source="post: 5227388" data-attributes="member: 51271"><p><strong><span style="color: Red">Ortrang</span></strong></p><p></p><p>The winds moved the dwarf's beard from one side to the other. His narrowed eyes were fixed on the horizon, as he kept a steady march ahead. His sturdy short legs were slower buy fast peaced, and that might well be something that repeats over his personality. He was slow witted but determined. Dubious but bold. He was slow with mercy, and quick to give death to his enemies. Not that he faced much enemies during his life, nor that he has slain all of then. But Ortrang liked to think that of himself. His short career as bouncer of a human tavern ended up prematurely when he almost killed one patron, that ended up being the mayor’s stepson. That also ended up his residence in that town by the way. So he hasty enlisted on a caravan that was departing, as guard of course. They were transporting lirium, a powerful and dangerous mineral dwarves take out of the hearts of the mountains. Lirium is dangerous to every living things when its not processed, only dwarves can resists its ill effects. Being a surface dwarf, and generally illiterate, Ortrang knew nothing about that. So in his shift he started toying around with a rock of pure lirium, tinkering on it with a small hammer and a chisel. Eventually his lack of skill bored him, and he tossed the rock away. Also, he forgot to cover the package where he took the stone, so the next day, the humans were all crazy, babbling incoherently. That is the ones who wake up from their sleep. Ortrang did what anyone would do. He took as much food and ale he could and run away in the opposite direction. </p><p>Eventually he came across these folk. They were on route before he encountered them, and since he has already eaten all the food and drank all the beer, he decided to tackle along. Of them, the mage was the strangest thing for Ortrang. He had saw some elves in the past, but none was a mage. He had heard mages could perform awesome feats of power, but this particular fellow seemed to be almost afraid of the air he was breathing. As the mage coiled his tunic around, Ortrang gave him a side look, and kept walking, his eyes on the horizon, his mind focusing on not repeating the same errors of the past.</p><p></p><p>[sblock=Ortrang]</p><p>Health: 32</p><p>Defense: 12</p><p>Armor raiting: 9</p><p>Speed: 9</p><p></p><p>Battle Axe: +5 for 2d6+3</p><p>Throwing axe: +6 for 1d6+5</p><p>[/sblock]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Voda Vosa, post: 5227388, member: 51271"] [B][COLOR="Red"]Ortrang[/COLOR][/B] The winds moved the dwarf's beard from one side to the other. His narrowed eyes were fixed on the horizon, as he kept a steady march ahead. His sturdy short legs were slower buy fast peaced, and that might well be something that repeats over his personality. He was slow witted but determined. Dubious but bold. He was slow with mercy, and quick to give death to his enemies. Not that he faced much enemies during his life, nor that he has slain all of then. But Ortrang liked to think that of himself. His short career as bouncer of a human tavern ended up prematurely when he almost killed one patron, that ended up being the mayor’s stepson. That also ended up his residence in that town by the way. So he hasty enlisted on a caravan that was departing, as guard of course. They were transporting lirium, a powerful and dangerous mineral dwarves take out of the hearts of the mountains. Lirium is dangerous to every living things when its not processed, only dwarves can resists its ill effects. Being a surface dwarf, and generally illiterate, Ortrang knew nothing about that. So in his shift he started toying around with a rock of pure lirium, tinkering on it with a small hammer and a chisel. Eventually his lack of skill bored him, and he tossed the rock away. Also, he forgot to cover the package where he took the stone, so the next day, the humans were all crazy, babbling incoherently. That is the ones who wake up from their sleep. Ortrang did what anyone would do. He took as much food and ale he could and run away in the opposite direction. Eventually he came across these folk. They were on route before he encountered them, and since he has already eaten all the food and drank all the beer, he decided to tackle along. Of them, the mage was the strangest thing for Ortrang. He had saw some elves in the past, but none was a mage. He had heard mages could perform awesome feats of power, but this particular fellow seemed to be almost afraid of the air he was breathing. As the mage coiled his tunic around, Ortrang gave him a side look, and kept walking, his eyes on the horizon, his mind focusing on not repeating the same errors of the past. [sblock=Ortrang] Health: 32 Defense: 12 Armor raiting: 9 Speed: 9 Battle Axe: +5 for 2d6+3 Throwing axe: +6 for 1d6+5 [/sblock] [/QUOTE]
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