Let's give the humans some... ferocious allies.
Name: Jarvig
Age: 169
Race: Dwarf
Rank: Blacksmith/Voluntary Soldier
Personality: Bad superiority complex. Grumpy, ready for battle, distrusts strangers and their motives. Pretty much opposite of Blackrock.
Bio: Humans may dislike orcs and whatnot, but this short-tempered 5ft bundle of muscles dislikes anyone that isn't a dwarf. Hell, he even dislikes most dwarves. Thinking of himself second to none, Jarvig volunteered to the ranks of lowest soldier, so that he'd be sent to the frontlines where he'd get the most action. Despite being surrounded several times and having had several fatal wounds over the course of many years, this hot headed dwarf still manages to charge forward and smash hard. The many scars covering his body never seemed to have made its way to his brain. Be it tenacity or pure luck, this little man is still running around and kicking butt. (Don't ever call him little man.)
Appearance:
Other: Fights with two hammers. Carries a throwing axe, like his friend does. Would rather become physically stronger than use any enchanting runes on his weaponry. His hammers do not have anything inscribed with them, but he can still break bones with brute force. He may be short, but he easily overpowers any human that isn't a powerhouse himself.
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Name: Beltiln Tarmikos
Age: 47
Race: Human
Rank: Berserker/ Only friend of Jarvig
Personality: Much like Jarvig, this man cares little for anyone else. He even sees dwarves as a greater race than humans.
Bio: Born with an unsatisfiable bloodlust, Beltiln had murdered 3 grown men at the age of 12, including his own father. Rather than being sentenced to death, as was common to murderers, the council decided this beastly boy would make a good addition on the battlefield. Beltiln underwent a 6-year training, honing his combat skills and shaping him into a beast of a man. Standing at 6ft 9, this man is no pushover, even compared to an orc.
After several broken weapons and many unsatisfied visits to every blacksmith in town, Beltiln finally stumpled upon the meanest and grumpiest, but said to be one of the best, dwarven blacksmiths there was. Like looking into a mirror, the two madmen cursed and sweared at each other until the challenge was accepted where both would enter the battlefield and see who could endure and take down more. After that, both became lifelong friends.
Appearance:
Other: Fights with twin blades and a throwing axe which he sometimes, mostly at the start of every fight, uses as main weapon. His twin blades serve for both offense and his only defense aside from a helmet. These swords have broken more often than not before his fighting spirit, leaving him unarmed a lot of times in the middle of battle, forcing him to borrow (steal) some poor bastard (dead guys)'s weapon.
Due to his lack of armour and education, it is more than obvious Beltiln has got more scars than he can count. And he carries them proudly. But what differs him from Jarvig is not his race, but rather his admiration for magic. Much like a little boy, Beltiln could watch mages cast spells for days on end.
Naturally, because of his wounds in the battlefield, Beltiln frequently visits the local healer, a cute elven woman with which he feels very happy to be around for some reason. She is the only person whose orders he more than happily follows and she's lead to Beltiln's only time where he voluntarily studied something. Healing magic.
Beltiln cannot heal others, his magic only works for himself. Able to heal small cuts and wounds all over his body in a matter of seconds. He can stop the bleeding from a fatal wound for about an hour and, combined with his berserker status, can keep fighting, or retreat to get the wound treated.
