Bartil Warhammer

Basics

Name: Bartil Warhammer

Gender: Male

Race: Dwarf

Age: 100

Height: 4'6

Weight: 150lb

Profession: Blacksmith, miner, proficient with an axe

Stats

Strength: 16

Dexterity: 12

Constitution: 16

Intelligence: 11

Wisdom: 10

Charisma: 9

Element: 13 Earth (Level 2)

Personality: Anyone who would call Bartil charismatic would be either deaf, blind or both. Bartil is socially awkward, having been living on his lonesome for most of his life. He has forgotten a lot about manners or he simply has a different view than one might expect of them. He is, however, a very structured individual who works in an efficient manner. He is loyal, and when he pledges his axe to a cause he remains loyal to the end. Bartil works well under pressure, he is hard to anger and can take a while before he becomes angry, but when he does he is a real Earth child, and explodes. He shows a great deal of creativity in his craft, giving the weapons - among other things - rather original designs or curves but always respecting the basic for balance, and usability. Being a proud member of his race, he's a quite willing drinker, preferring dwarven ale over all, but anything is better than wine. Especially the elvish kind.

Appearance: Neither tall, nor short for a dwarf, Bartil is built stocky and solid. He has strawberry blond hair that he wears long to have her back and more often than not braided in some fashion. His facial hair, source of no small pride is well groomed and of the same shade than his hair. His eyes, pools of dark brown, are under bushy eyebrows. With strong arms, and a strong, broad chest, Bartil is far more muscular than fat.

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History

Bartil lived the first few decades of his life almost oblivious to the fact that he was an Earth child. Sure, he knew from instincts that some veins of a particular metal would be leading to a treasure further down but he had never really shaped or morphed stone into anything before. So he started his adult life as a miner, like his father before him. It was an activity that he found to be monotonous, tiresome. Breaking rocks, digging, and carrying these raw materials out of the mine at the end of the day to hand them to someone else to do what he wanted to do: create.

Bartil discovered his gift totally by accident. Having broken his pick axe while down deep into a new mine shaft, he picked up the two broken pieces and put them back together. Once that he could manage to make them fit together again and to hold without any thing else than his annoyance to have broken yet another tool, he understood what it was and what would become of him if others learned. Rarely using his gift, he wormed his way out of the minds and into a blacksmitting apprenticeship. He remained under the wing of an older gent who taught him everything he had to know, and even the more artistic techniques, but that's when Bartil betrayed himself. His drawings in the metal took half the time they should and were twice as complex as what his mentor could do.

He was told in no uncertain term that he was no longer a welcome member of the Warhammer clan, and that he had to leave. Rather than to cause trouble, Bartil left. He loved his family, but he had yet to make a life for himself. Being young, healthy and unattached, he left for the outside world after spending his last night pouring over maps to find where he could go to be left on his own. He said out for the island of Merana, where he lived alone for a few more decades. He built himself a comfortable, if basic, home in one of the natural caves of mount Selpria. There, he built himself a forge where he worked some of the metals found in the heart of the mountain. These products, mainly knifes and other cooking utensils, he sold to the human village across the water.

He had been living on the island alone for a few years when the Exiled started to cross and settle. He spent almost a whole year hunting for his meat and tending his own little garden before the Exiled found him and, much to his surprise, welcomed him with open arms. He understood that these people needed his skills for the various things houses needed, but that they were gifted, just like him. They had suffered a fate similar to his own, and rather than to be upset to have his quiet island invaded, he embraced the new people as if they were of his own clan and that included a six years old female human.

Alix, who was an orphan and a source of resentment by proxy, became like a daughter to him. The little princess was used to be spoiled and given all sorts of fancy things, but Bartil would have none of that and took it upon himself to raise the child and give her solid values. Being an Earth child, with a down to earth approach and a give-me-no-none-sense attitude, and Alix being a Light child, the two of them butt head on a regular basis, but Alix' innate rectitude kept her out of trouble and made it easier on Bartil.