About Wulfrum BoulderheadWulfrum Boulderhead
Backstory:
Torag is a mighty god, creator of the dwarves and of the world. It was his chosen that should have inherited the earth but Torag was also a proud god and knew that they should not just have what he made for him, thus challenges were built into the world. He made enemies for the dwarves and drove them to battle against the dwarves not out of anger at his chosen but out of compassion. He wished to see them prosper and grow through the ages and to do that they needed challenges. Wulfrum believed these words to the bottom of his stomach as it was much larger then his heart. It was with this belief that he swore to take down the mightiest of the challenges the world brought the proud dwarves, the giants and the dragons. The dragons stole the treasures and the gold that the dwarves spent so much time and effort collect and they should pay. And it was the Giants who terrorized the mountains making trade difficult for the dwarves to get the supplies they needed to continue their everyday lives. It was with these reasons that he began to walk the path as a Hammer for the mighty god, sent to smite all the evil that lurked around the mountain in which he was born. He studied many things about his foes, where they lived, how they fought, and how to use the terrain they held. And so he began the trek down from the Mindspin Mountains to the quaint town know as Trunau. He knew the town had been dealing with Orc and Giants alike and if there was one place to start his divine work, well it might as well be the village that helped supply his home with the food they needed. He knew a few of the blacksmiths of the area down there, having blessed a hopeknife or two in his youth for those of proud families that had down the divine work before he took up his mantle. And so he stayed at the Ramblehouse, a quaint inn ran by those fortunate halflings that had managed to escape slavery. The Five Years:
Wulfrum had indeed shown up to that faithful night when Hlgra had basically challenged the youth of the city to leave and live life to the fullest before coming back and deciding if Trunau was where they truly wanted to live. Well, at least that is what Wulfrum had heard her do. He thought about himself. He was only 82 and it was true he had many years left but he thought he had found his purpose along the front line between the orcs and the town of Trunau. He waited a few days and wished all the young ones good luck, seeing them go made the old man sad but he never showed it in sight of others. It was bad enough he let his guard down around that rambunctious group and had spent the better part of the last thirty years watching over them and doing his best to keep them out of trouble while tending to any battles that broke out between the townsfolk and the evil that lay beyond the borders. It grew quiet without the youth around town and he sighed feeling his purpose slip, he had grown to enjoy spending time taking care of those who lost their family and even their friends. He stared at his holy symbol looking inward to what he had become, sure he was still a proud fighter of Torag but he had found a side of himself he didn't expect. Perhaps he should settle down, he thought to himself. Maybe raise some kids of his own, it was during this time of contemplation that he heard word that some of the other towns on the outskirts of Varisia had started being hit by the orcs and giants looking for easy slaves or sport. He picked up his pack and took himself before Halgra. He spoke to her about taking a leave of absence, something he hadn't done since the day he had walked down from the mountain. She questioned him about his reasons and he told her about the rumors he had heard. She gave a rare smile and gave him his leave. He took little time and began his trek, joining in with a caravan at the edge of Lastwall territory and spent the time as a guard for the caravan to earn his keep.
He kept track of the time and when it was two months before they were all supposed to come back, he set back out again. He had grown a bit stronger, learning how better to protect his comrades and lay out harder hits to take down the heavier enemies. He was even what one would consider quite adept at swimming for a dwarf who grew up in the mountains, he didn't immediately drown like a rock. He also learned how to track to a reasonable degree, though you didn't need much skill to follow a giant, it was still a little harder to follow orcs.
Role in Party:
Will be the Divine caster of the group, much like any dwarf he will prefer to be in the midst of the fray with his charges and long time friends in hopes that he will be able to protect them and aid them more quickly. Personality:
Would probably best be described as the grumpy father figure. He does enjoy his drink, though he keeps it even for all evening. He is never found without his cherry tobacco and pipe, kept in a snuff box. He met the others when they were younger though he himself was an adult. He watched over them and kept them out of trouble for the most part and looked after their wounds with his holy magic. If they came into trouble he was ready and nearby to do his best through gruff words or through a smack with his hammer. Description:
Wulfrum is a rather typical dwarf by most standards. He stands a bit taller then average at about fifty three inches. He is by no means a small dwarf in the waste. His stomach bellowing out a fair bit more then his chest making him a heavier set man. His long flowing beard he wears with pride careful not to damage it in fights but tucking it in under chainmail. His hair though is kept short to keep out of his eyes as the black hair would be a detriment to saving his brethren. His shield, kept in his right hand bears the insignia of his God proudly, with a smaller coat of arms tucked in towards the bottom for his family. After battle he fixes any scaring and marking that may have tarnished the crests. He wears his backpack till Uffo comes of age, then the bear will start carrying it's own weight. The black bear is a bit of a runt for a bear cub but given that he was found starving for a bit it makes sense. He wears a scar proudly that cleaves his right eyebrow and cheek. He was fortunately enough that the eye didn't receive any damage but all the same it stands out like a sore thumb with the missing chunk of bone and sunken flesh outlining his face. Perhaps that is why the man always wears a scowl on his face and seems pissed at the world. But those who have know him long enough know that he was a grumpy dwarf from birth. His steel colored eyes pierce those he talks to. |
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