Rolegg Magmasworn

Biographical information

Birthplace Dhunbor Born Died Age 243 Home Dhunbor Sexuality Pronouns

Physical description

Race Grey Dwarf (Duergar) Sub-Race Gender Male Height 4'4" Mass 263lbs Hair color White Eye color Black Skin color Ash Grey

Political information

Affiliation(s) Occupation Battlerager, Drunkard Clan(s) Caste Domain Masters Apprentices Alias(es)

Out-of-character information

Writer Painus Created on 15AUG2020 Avatar Pinterest

A veritable mountain (or molehill) of meat, Rolegg is by no means a frail individual. Even at a glance, one can immediately notice that this man has eaten his fill and then some. Like most dwarves and their sub-species, he stands at a stout four-and-a-third feet of pure dwarven rage. His skin reflects his lineage; ashen grey, like all Duergar, owing to centuries dwelling in the Underrealm. His black eyes are set deep in hollow sockets, partially covered by permanently-furrowed brows (and a pair of thick, white eyebrows topping these). His other facial features are rough and round, much like the craggy home in which he resides. His bald head has a few dwarven runes that trace around his skull, leading to other parts of his body in some unknown pattern. Most importantly, his great white beard reaches down to his belt and is braided as he sees fit -- sometimes for aesthetic, sometimes for flagellating some loud-mouthed, pointy-eared woodland princess, though often these functions intermix.

His voice is rough and sounds like he's gargled gravel for the past two-and-a-half centuries, which isn't too far from the truth. Centuries of drinking and shouting have taken a toll on his vocal cords, and now his manner of speech properly reflects that, much to... everyone's chagrin, really.

Never before has Dhunbor seen a finer, more heroic, stronger warrior. Or, at least, that's what Rolegg believes. A self-described "Battlerager" (though others might be quicker to call it something more along the lines of "axe-idiot"), his talents lie in wading into the thickest parts of battle. Willing to utilize every part of his body as a weapon, his manner of style involves crashing into the enemy with reckless abandon. He's never needed to pick up a bow (not that he would, anyways; that's for those elven pansies), nor has he had to rely on magic, and he's damn well not about to start now. Like most dwarves, he has an eye for fine craftsmanship, appreciates a good forge, and loves more than anything to drink, eat, and make merry.

Dwarves are loud people, and Rolegg is no exception to this. Loud, combative, unnecessarily aggressive -- these are the hallmarks of Rolegg Magmasworn. A lover of alcohol and violence, the quickest way to get to Rolegg's good side is to simply share a drink or a fight with the man. Ever-wary of outsiders (especially elves, orcs, goblins, and all associated beings written in his great personal Book of Grudges), it may take some time to grow accustomed to this gargantuan braggart. Once you do, however, you'll never find a finer companion, and he prides himself on his loyalty to those close to him. Be wary, however, because even the slightest insult against him will land the offender a place in his book. So petty is his ire that even a stalactite has found itself in his book after breaking off and spilling his drink all over his beard. Until that ungrateful piece of rock can repay its debt, it'll stay in those pages until Rolegg decides to settle his grudge -- with the heavy end of a hammer.