As played by Jon Eldridge
Darrak stands just shy of five feet tall, and is perhaps half as wide, if not a bit more. He is surely stocky and well-built despite his husky appearance. He tips the scales around 230 pounds. Agility and grace are not his forte; he sees things as the shortest way between two points is a straight line, even if you have to break down whatever obstacles are in the way. He can be slow to move, as he is in no hurry to meet his maker, as well as having a considerable weight to carry. He dislikes not having his feet surely planted on the ground. His facial features are not what one would label as empirically attractive, even for a Dwarf. His nose is rather large, and has been broken more than once. His skin is weathered and rough, and marked with freckles. His stone-grey eyes are small and beady, but relay a hidden wisdom and thought in the crows feet at the corners. His eyebrows sweep across his oft furrowed brow to form little wingtips at either end. His hair is a fiery golden-red, and moderately coarse. It runs down the middle of his back and lies across his wide shoulders. Often, he’ll pull it back into a topknot to keep it out of his face. His beard falls to a rest at his belly, which protrudes a bit from his torso. The beard is threaded through a wide leather loop and is braided near its tip, and his large moustache is adorned with various wooden beads and braided at either end. His hands are thick and stubby and well-worked. He wears a patchwork of tanned hide armor, which has been stained with various foods and beverages. He wears a pleated leather kilt, as he finds it more comfortable than pants. A braided cord rests around his waist with tokens of his family’s crest affixed. On his hip is his trusty warhammer, his back a battleaxe. His boots are often muddied, his gloves worn. He has a leather skullcap which flairs out at the end and has a flap that covers the bridge of his nose. Over his armor he wears a cloak of animal furs, over that rests a heavy shield. Covering his arms, back, and chest are various tattoos that depict his kinship with nature and his travels. All in all, he is not very concerned with his appearance, and often looks to be disheveled, if not a bit lazy.
His lackadaisical approach to appearance does not represent his personality. He is gruff and to the point, a Dwarf of few words, but a loud voice. He cautiously and thoughtfully studies people, not quick to trust. With that said, he is rather jovial and aloof, with a quirky, if not obvious sense of humor. He has a warm, deep voice, which presents a stern, but caring tone. Paired with his deep belly guffaws, it can be very heartening. Partial to fire-water, he can be noticed taking nips off his flask in times of nervousness and stress, and often when not. “A fine ale is better, and harder to find, than a suitable wife”, as he says. He also enjoys a hearty meal, and will eat most anything; which tests his impressive constitution, occasionally. He dislikes tobacco smoke, as it irritates his nose. He enjoys being in solitude, when not in taverns. He’ll meander out into the forests and mountains, and keeps a journal of interesting things he finds. While not very intelligent, at least in the sense of the word, he has a lot of insight and common sense, which he frequently uses to perceive other people’s intents. His power comes from the earth, and he gives his source appreciation for the gifts it bestows upon him. He enjoys a good storm, as he finds the elements of nature strong and powerful, for which he has the deepest respects. “Even the tamest of rivers will wear down the stone given time”, is a favorite saying of his. He is dutiful in his morality, and gives homage to Kord, although his ultimate worship is that of the earth. He is loyal to his comrades, and expects the same in return. He is prone to bursts of righteous anger, and enjoys a good, fair fight. His confidence in battle will lead him to occasionally bite off more than he can chew. He carries with him a horn, which is shaped like that of a ram’s horn, which emits a booming, deep sound to notify his enemies of their impending doom. He has an innate curiosity in masonry and will make continual observations when presented with a fascinating example. Money and gold are not terribly interesting to him as he has seen their negative effects on many of his kinsman. He also dislikes the idea of wastefully stripping a land of all its contents for a few ounces of a substance.
Darrak was raised in the mountain villages with his people. His father was a mason of average repute, his mother a formidable tailor. He has an extensive family which includes his four brothers and three sisters; numerous cousins; plenty of aunts and uncles; grandparents; great grandparents; and great-great grandparents. Large reunions are held every other year which last about a week, and encompass many games; foods; ale tastings; dances; and plenty of other festivities. He has yet to find a mate and settle down, which suits him just fine. “It’s hard to get out and explore when you are tied down at home”, is his thought. He left home to pursue just that; adventure; excitement; ale. He is on a quest for greatness, eventually hoping to return home and serve his people with all his gained knowledge. His curiosity with nature leaves him with wanderlust for new things. He spent a few of his years serving in the Dwarven army, attaining a modest rank, but never showing a true dedication. It was too regimented for his taste, at times, and he knew he could not meet his potential within its restraints. It was during this service, though, that he tapped into his unique bond with the earth and its raw power. He was on a reconnaissance mission into a supposed (mineral?) cartel hideout in a cave, when a series of events led him into the midst of an elemental, who saved his life and opened up his channel to the earth. He indebted himself to the elemental and promised to repay the kindness. He kept this to himself while serving, so as not to draw attention to his abilities and have him wrapped into further tenure, or possible ridicule or disbelief. He left the military in good standing, and packed up his things to find his own way, to explore his talents, and the world. Eventually, his travels brought him to Ashmore Inc., a small mercenary group, (which he may or may not have heard of because of his ties to the military) which he calls his home, for now.