Recent content by Grimm

"Had 'em.", he said. "Lost 'em." He was quiet for a while before finishing his beer. The suds of it left a light foam on the dwarf's excessive mustache - only to be licked off as he hopped off the stool that was too tall for him. He waddled in place a bit, to get the blood back in his stout...

"Nigh on 200 years I been makin' things that kill people.", he said, almost refusing to drop the comment Clemente had made earlier. He even gave him a bit of a side eye, but over the bustle of the crowd and the bumping people kept doing against the back of his chair he eventually seemed to...

Grimm seemed to say something in Dwarvish as he collected himself, staring off into the crowd across the bar, at the wall full of unopened bottles and kegs, until the red slowly fell away from his features and left a far more calm Dwarmi. He glanced to the kid, rubbed a bit of snot from his...

He seemed to sour at the implication, choosing to drink his beer than respond - at least at first. His dwarven accent was thick, his temper hot, but he spoke in a growl just above the sound of the tavern's rabble and ruckus; "An' what if it did?", he said with a heavy furrowed brow. "Think...

Grimm had noticed the blush - but it only made his narrow his vision. The kid was that interested in weapons was he? Of all the smith's he'd met, he only knew two that 'liked' their forgings that much. Grimm found it creepy, bordering deviant - but he didn't have the patience or habit of making...

"Ya ain't livin' in the right town if 'knife-ears' bothers your sensitivities, kid.", he said, spitting carelessly on the ground some wad of leaf he had hid away in his lower lip. Someone stepped in it, but seemed to drunk to notice. More importantly, Clemente had said 'elves' like he wasn't...

Clementine. Either the elf boy shortened it to not be so fruity, or Grimm was just making up stories in his head. He liked to do that, kept things interesting to be honest. He grunted at the name, but gave him a yellowy eyed glare at the mention of never seeing a dwarf before. His Clan was long...

Highly sought after magical weaponry, who's creation has been lost to the ages.

Grimm grumbled as the angsty dwarf often did. Vel Anir never was a place for non-humans like him, not in the furniture and especially not in the manners. The city hadn't changed its sentiment about non-humans since he had first visited, but it was rare he was pushed and prodded by the guard on...

Snake-Tooth Tavern Vel Anir The city was always a bustling, too much going on for too long. Everyone seemed crazy, no patience as merchants and traders peddled their goods to every hamstrung minor noble in a frock coat - made all the worse that Grimm was eye level with their leather cod pieces...

“Nay”, he offered Morgan, simply shaking his rotund head. “Ih won’ be so easay tho’. Mind ‘ow ye swing yah s’ord, an’ ye powa’. Git ah ‘ood naught rest, kid.” Grimm said, in a surprisingly simple manner. For the first time in their conversation to date, he hadn’t really brought much disdain...

As the hours went by, Grimm finally announced his arrival in the cabin with a loud slam of the door; though one that lacked aggression, more so just a byproduct of his strength. Wiping his nose, he sniffled a few times as he moved to the kitchen and poked at the now failing flame, hoping to...

Grimm simply shook his head, going back to whatever it was he drawing, before offering a gravely insult Morgan would have to become accustomed to as the two would work together. “Yah know, yah awreddy gettin’ oan mah nerves, kid.”, he said with a shake of his massive rounded head, beard swaying...

“Sih ‘An-verth Roll-fe”? Con’t believe tha’ lil runt ‘came ah knight.”, Grimm said through puffs of smoke. Although his tone sounded dismissive, almost harsh to Morgan’s former master, somewhere behind that beard was a soft, yet subtle, smile. The pride of a father, perhaps, seeing his creation...