Name: Bronr Beornisson
Character Portrait:

Race: Norse Dwarf
Clan/Faction/Country: Kraka Dorden
Class Descriptor: Dwarf Ranger
Physical Description: Stern and tough like all good Dawi, Bronr's a testament to Dwarfish resolve and hardiness. He has a squat, muscled body (albeit slightly lean compared to some of his heftier kin), with a large nose for sniffing danger and keen eyes for piercing the horizon. His brown beard nearly reaches to his feet, and though he longs for the day to have it brush the ground and gain the title 'Longbeard,' he does fret over it tripping him up and he is quite glad it hasn't reached the point he needs to tuck it in his belt yet. He is heavily armored compared to most scouts, because of the impeccable ore and smithing of the Dwarf holds. He wears a leather jerkin over a gromril chainshirt, with wooden and iron pauldrons and greaves. A blue cloak covers and shrouds his form.
Weapons/Armor and Gear:
Armor

• Gromril Chainshirt
• Steel Pauldrons/Greaves
• Steel helmet (dons if needed)

Weapons

• Az-hafted Thrund (Long rifle with an Axe on the haft)
• Secondary Thrund
• Handgun
• Handaxe

Misc

• Cloak
• Necklace (Wootroth Sigil of Grimnir)
• 3 pounds of jerky
• Flask
• Flask 2
• Flask 3
• Flask just in case he needs a fourth
• Torch
• Flask 5 in case flask 4 runs out. By Grungni he needs a sixth.

Background: Bronr was born and raised in Kraka Dorden to Beorni Throrson and Gunhild Silverdottr. The oldest brother of three sons, he has a hard working, albiet normal upbringing until he reached the age of forty winters, joining the Dwarf militia and becoming a soldier to fight off Norscan raids. It was one fateful expedition when he and his party managed to run across a large Chaos invasion heading toward Kraka Drakk, but their group was discovered. Bronr was the only Dawi to survive, and trek the wilderness across the rugged mountains to warn Kraka Drakk of the impending attack. He found his calling within the wilderness, as well as the various undiscovered caves of the Norscan hills.

He became a hold ranger, and began to patrol the wilderness between Kraka Ornsmotek, Kraka Dorden, and Kraka Drakk, sometimes making forays south into Kraka Ravnvake. He brought news, pelts, and a good axe when needed to wherever he traveled. He always had a story and a need for a flask refill. It was after half of a century that he and small group of Dawi went south to aid the manling's in Praag during a great siege. After they had flanked the chaos horde, he gained a glimpse of the World's Edge Mountains, and his heart soared. He decided he would ask for his oath ot Kraka Dorden to be fulfilled, so he might travel south and explore the lands of the Southern Dawi.

The past twenty years he had made his home in Karaz-A-Karak, wandering to the other holds and gaining a reputation for being able to track anything above or below ground. It was only recently he heard of the retaking of Eight Peaks. He knew they would need his expertise.

Race: Skaven

Clan/Faction/Country: Clan Skryre

Class Descriptor: Warlock Engineer

Physical Description: A scrawny piebald rat pockmarked with scars and permanently singed hair due to experiments that have gone awry. He’s called “Blacktail” due to having, on one particular occasion, having burnt his tail while testing a new warpflame device , leaving it scarred and blackened.

Weapons/Armor and Gear: In battle, he wears his Warlock Engineer armor with an attached breathing apparatus designed to give him at least a modicum of protection from the warp lighting and warpfire he can unleash with his various devices. His weapon of choice is a warp-infused glaive that is able to channel warp lighting conjured from a small scale warp turbine attached like a backpack to Fizquiks suit. A small, highly unstable, rocket is attached to the glaive that he can ignite and launch out and above fray to rain warp-hell down on unsuspecting combatants. Aside from the glaive, he also carries a pair of repeater warplock pistols of his own design, inspiration from which came from observing the human version of the weapon and then improving it with brilliant Skaven engineering. Of course, Fizquik would never admit that he took an idea from anywhere other than his own brilliant self.

Background: Born into Clan Skryre, Fizquik was quickly destined to become a warlock engineer, having shown the necessary aptitude for tinkering and invention, and a general disregard for his own safety, that is so prized by the mad rat scientists of the Under-Empire. With a great number of successful (at least on his end) inventions under his belt, he was promoted to Warlock Engineer after his previous Warlock mentor had a rather ‘unfortunate’ accident tinkering with a Far-Squeaker. How was poor Fizquik to know that his master was still holding the Squeaker when he sent the Warp-current through it? Now that he’s officially taken his late master’s place, Fizquik has come to the Pillar City to build and test his inventions in the aide of Clan Mors' battle with the orcs and humans. So many new weapons to build, so little time.

Name: Rundel Grimdtersson.

Race: Dwarf

Clan/Faction/Country: Formerly of Zhufbar, now a wandering Slayer

Class Descriptor: Daemon Slayer

Physical Description:
Obnoxiously tall for a Dwarf at 4'6, Rundel has a body that although possessing a slightly larger beer-belly than the larger Dwarf hides more muscle than the toughest of Hammerers. His red Slayer's mohawk is starting to fray with age, but it is nevertheless quite massive even by Slayer standards making his height technically go up to seven feet. His beard and whiskers are quite well styled, although short due to being burned off some two years back, his hair being naturally a very dark brown. Beyond a tattered pair of leather pants he wears nothing. His eyes are a brown almost black much like his hair, while upon his face he is generally considered 'average' for a Dwarf, with only notable features being a slightly more pointed nose and larger ears.

Weapons/Armor and Gear:
Klinkazes: His twin pair of Gromril axes, they are weapons of true beauty to behold. Few but Dwarves and Elves have eyesight keen enough to discern the full carvings upon the blades for the Gromril of them was made to be a light-sucking jet black, the names of Rundel's ancestors upon each. They both have particularly long handles for a better reach, and lack an armour-piercing pick on their inverse sides for the Gromril blades already cleave through even Chaos-plate like butter. An important thing to note of the blades is the additional Runic carvings upon them to help the wielder weather magics set upon them.

Zharrikaz: A two-handed hammer, it is a work of ingenuity akin to that in his axes. Also made of meteoric iron, the weapon is rather unorthodox in that it bears Runes of Burning more typically found on artillery pieces than close combat weapons. While for single-combat against more legendary foes Rundell prefers his twin axes, against lesser foes - particularly when in large numbers - he prefers his hammer for the flesh of many targets bursting helps him clear a path to the foes of real note.

Background:
Rundell was born in Zhufbar to a quite prominent family with a martial history as Ironbreakers. So long was their service in the field that they had even managed to accumulate hereditary Drakefire-arms in addition to the mere armour and hand-axe or hand-hammer with shield that most possess.

As was expected of any right minded lad in the family, Rundell joined the moment he fit into the plate. He served honourably, plowing through Skaven and Gobbos trying to invade the glorious hold of Zhufbar. However, the hold was not the only one he had seen. At the behest of his Lord and the High King of Dwarfs he had marched through much of the world, over a century seeing nearly the entirety of the old world. He went to the North-lands of Kislev to protect allied holds from vile Northlanders, he travelled West to deal with pesky Elgi of all three varieties. Yet after these travels, what he truly missed was his home, and thus there he returned.

It would be in Zhufbar not long after a return from one of his travels that his fall from grace happened. Rundell was patrolling the underway with a dozen of his comrades before a hole in the wall collapsed, and hundreds of Grobi and Urki were beyond. Naturally, the enemy was no match for a good shield-wall of Gromril in such a narrow passage, and as hours passed more and more greenskins lay dead at their feet with naught but a few bruises upon each warrior. As the enemy numbered but a few dozens, Rundell bellowed loudly before charging head first in the enemy, breaking ranks.

This folly was not one anyone would forget. As he did so quite suddenly squigs emerged from small holes covered with rocks, a quite simple but easily concealable trap loosed upon the Dawi. In but a minute half the force had died, in one way or another meeting a disgraceful end. By the end only three remained, and the unspoken agreement was quite clear.

Rundell returned not bothering to speak to anyone, simply taking a familial hammer before he went on the long trek to Karak Kadrin. At last he made it to his destination, and took his Slayer oath. From there on his life went as expected. Again he travelled the world, seeing familiar sights. Many enemies were felled by his weapons, starting from black orcs, progressing to Ogres, trolls, lesser daemons, but as he gained experience he found it harder and harder to come near his desired death. Chaos warriors and Champions, a Vampire count, all fell to his axes. Time progressed and even greater foes met their ends at his blades, eventually coming to include (and admittedly young and small) a Dragon and a Greater Daemon of Slaanesh.

Yet death ran from him no matter how hard he chased it. Thus, after much deliberation he decided that if he cannot find death, he best find some true purpose in his fights rather than simply killing in hopes of being killed. So, catching up to a band of Slayers he now heads of Karak Eight peaks in hopes of reclaiming part of the great Dwarven Fatherland.

Name: Trubert Reifsnaider

Race: Human

Faction: Empire - Wissenland

Class: Morr Monk (not a Priest, not able to perform Morr miracles)

Physical Description: 40 years old - Height: 173cm - Weight: 58kg - Hair: Golden blond - Eyes: Pale Grey

Weapons/Armor and Gear: Prayer Book (The Book of Doorways), Morr symbol (a black raven-shaped badge), black Morr robes, writing kit, quarterstaff

Background: Unlike the fertile farmlands of western Wissenland, the oriental side of the province offers a drier and stony landscape. People in Ummenbach, a small village on the edge of the Black Mountains near dwarven hold Khazid Hafak, have almost abandoned subsistence farming in favor of mining and metal trading.

Trubert was a monk in a small monastery of Morr not far from Ummenbach. He and two other brothers were spending their lives in study and prayer, also offering their services to the villagers whenever they needed a funeral.

One day the monastery was raided and razed by a small group of goblins who killed Trubert's brothers without mercy and left him for dead. He was rescued some hours later by Xavier Breuer, the lay temple guardian who was away running some errands. Trubert was taken to Ummenbach and was treated by villagers but remained visibly shocked despite his long religious training.

Some weeks later a small party of mercenaries headed to Border Princes lands made a stop in Ummenbach. That very night Trubert had a dream in which he was following the mercenaries offering spiritual assistance in some dark lair. Since Morrians take omens from dreams very seriously, he joined the mercenaries the next day. Xavier, now unemployed and sincerely devoted to Trubert, decided to follow the party too. The group crossed the Black Mountains south of Ummenbach and stopped by Khazid Hafak and Karak Gantuk holds. There they heard of Karak Eight Peaks, a huge dwarven hold disputed by orks, skaven and dwarfs back in the World's Edge Mountains. They also heard that dwarfs are willing to richly pay humans who accept to fight for them. The party decided the Border Princes wars were pointless compared the gold they could gain fighting for dwarfs and planned to reach the City of Pillars. They were joined by some Dwarf Shieldbreakers who helped them finding the right way and avoid troubles in the Badlands. After many travel weeks they finally reached Karak Eight Peaks...

Trubert is a quiet man, with a dark sense of humour typical of Morr clergy. He spent his life in contemplation and study, apart from theology and the risks of necromancy, he had the chance to study dwarven culture of the near Khazid Hafak hold, gaining some academic knowledge in runes and dwarven language (khazalid). He cannot perform Morr miracles (divine magic).

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Name: Xavier Breuer

Race: Human

Faction: Empire - Wissenland

Class: Temple Guardian

Physical Description: 25 years old - Height: 169cm - Weight: 95kg - Hair: Ash Blond - Eyes: Black

Weapons/Armor and Gear: Light Armour (Leather Jack), Morr robe (black robe under the leather jack), a simple spear, dagger

Background: Xavier was born in Ummenbach, third son of a local miner. When he was 16 the Morrian brothers from the near monastery hired him to watch over it and run errands for them. Monks treated him well and he quickly became fond of his employers. His simple life was shaken when goblins destroyed the monastery and killed all brothers but Trubert while he was away. He felt guilty for not helping them in the moment of need and when Trubert joined a mercenaries party he chose to follow and protect him.

Xavier is an overweight but good hearted boy. He is very fond of brother Trubert and sincerely wants to protect him. He knows the basic of fighing but in his 9 years as a temple guardian never had the chance to test his skills.

@KordianInteresting choices! Accepted