Personality: A large man capable of a warmth that exceeds his forge. His body was honed from the hours in the forge and various hunts, both of which have taught him his two greatest qualities patience and discipline. There are two sides to every coin, and with as much warmth as Lars is capable of, he is equally capable of a coldness to his enemies that rivals the icy rivers of his homeland. If you are among family and friends, you would have no more loyal friend to count on or to have at your back. A side note is that the closer you are to Lars, the less you will hear him say. This a byproduct of the long hours in the forge, but unless he addresses multiple people, he will project his thoughts than he would speak, giving him a false look as a very quiet man to those who do not know him.
Biography: Lars' first memories were of the forge. The smelt of sweat-stained leather, the heat of the forge, the hiss of heated metal submerged in water. His father stood there with his hammer ringing out into the snow-swept city. The young Lars stood there fighting the urge to strip the heavy cloak off due to heat, but the icy wind that hit his back reminded him why they were clothed in the forge. His father would then call him over to the anvil where the blade being created still glowed. His father imparted a few words of wisdom before sending the apprentice to gather materials, "A blade is not forged by force. A blade is forged by time and patience." those words would stay with the boy long into adulthood. For now, though, the young lad nodded at his father's words before grabbing his father's needed materials. Now those days seemed so far away. His father had passed, and he now stood over the anvil, casting a greater silhouette than his father. His eyes locked on the glowing blade as blow after blow was brought down on the malleable metal. Focused, his mind was awash with worry and racing with thoughts. His friend did something unprecedented; now, he was unsure if they fully understood what they had done. Using his clamps, he quenched the blade, and as the smoke rose from the trough, he looked up to the brewing clouds and wondered," Skaggi... what are your goals?"
