Karturis

Karturis Ironfistk
Status	Active
Race	Dwarf
Gender	Male
Guild	Barbarian
Instance	Prime

I am Karturis the Dwarf. Folks call me Kart. My future is more clear to me than my past. I was born, so I am told, on the 28th day of the 9th month of Dolefaren the Brigantine (ship) in the year of the Iron Toad, 305 years after the victory of Lanival the Redeemer. A hairpin is the sole item I have to remind me of my parents. Ma put it in my hand just before she pushed me off the wagon that day on Clanthew Boulevard. I ask for the Favor of Everild. I have never seen a weapon I didn't admire, and my room in the Crossing Guild hall is filled by those silent friends. I am a member of The Order of the Black Fox, and must say that the Order has helped me learn and appreciate the ways of other races and professions and to accept why other guilds teach magic..

Recently I had occasion to look over the side from the Open Grave, a Brigantine I luckily once acquired. Here is what I recall seeing staring back at me. A Handsome old dwarf, with an undulating scar across his cheek from a slash he must have failed to dodge. His mustache was long, and his beard a full one, split into thirds, and woven into three thick braids hanging down to his waist. Wound around each of beard plait was a wide kertig ring graced with a fractured spear of night black zephyr's heart. His forearm was graced with a tattoo of a skeletal hand wreathed in red flames. He was wearing a barbarian's black eyepatch covered in vulture feathers to simulate a bird of prey, some thick gold hoop earrings, a square cast iron skillet with a darkened oak handle, a fitted heretic black satin shirt with silversteel buttons, a Dwarven iron bracer studded with kertig spikes, a grimy steel ring bearing the crest of the Barbarians' guild, a gold ring, a tasseled indigo silk sash, a Dwarven iron skinning knife with a mikkhalbamar hilt, a soft leather sporran dangling a trio of brass-capped tassels, a Redthorne tartan kilt, a miniature oak keg with riveted Dwarven iron hoops and some Dwarven stomping boots crafted with black leather and steel soles. Altogether a fine looking fella, I must admit.

As I have said to all who listen to my ramblings, I especially enjoy cheese and turnips. Cheese keeps well in a barrel, and turnips, favored by my Tog friends, are tasty and will perhaps make me taller some day. When awake, the variety of beverages offered everywhere are appreciated, and the enjoyment they offer has yielded a modest collection of flasks, all used, that bear the memories of good ale.

Speaking of beverages, I must be away now for a wee drop. Perhaps my past will be more clear to me after ale.