Hrafnhildur "Fin" Arnardottir is a dwarf who grew up with both parents inside a large, industrial/ebberonesque city. She was the black sheep of the family, always getting into trouble, putting off chores, doing undwarf like things. Her two choice were as an apprentice with her father or baking goods with her mother. Neither looked like what she wanted, and she was often too busy reading tomes she had bought off the streets to pick up any other Dwarven skills. She was a rougish tom boy, often earning disproving looks form her father for spending to long with men or male dwarves, and equal disdain for acts of sheer foolery such as climbing up rain gutters or trying to find a way into the sewers. Despite this she is quite intellectual, neat and tidy when she can be.
As such spending so much time away from home and disliking the boring, plain manner of her family she set up with a street gang looking for some excitement. Soon she found herself too deep in, but could do little to stop the gang contacting her, and her family finding out.
One day they told her to read a book that they were going to fence, to see what it was worth. When she spoke the first few lines, she felt a power surge through her, and a malevolent intent. This is when she became a Warlock. Soon after having her Warlock abilities abused by the gang she fled them and the city leaving her family behind too ashamed to return to them.
She wears loose cloth and leather clothing. Designed to look innocuous, light and comfortable, possibly patched and sewn together pieces of other clothes. Certainly enough padding here and there, tied and buckled haphazardly to protect from scrapes and bangs whilst on the run. A hood deep enough to cover the face, but shallow enough to catch a glimpse of her sullen face. Most of her clothes are beige or tan, very light colours, whilst a darker brown for the padding bits. She needs some sort of 'street robe', very rough looking. She stands about 4'3", and is of a stocky build, even for a dwarf, but quite lean due to having lived on the streets for some time.
Her hair is a mix of wild hair kept down by neat plaits, some held at the ends with copper or porcelain, maybe one or two loose and a bit frey-ended. Her books are tied together and in a small satchel at her side, but are now looking a bit tattered. The only other thing at her side is a small war hammer from her fathers forge.
