Name | Dagmar Shadehand
Age | 60
Race | Denur
Occupation | Miner by day, bard by night
Appearance | Dagmar is a stout, crimson-eyed Denur woman that is black of hair, and dark brown skin. Her cheeks have a warm undertone, as bright as the glow of ore lining the hot lava layers in her cavern home. She dresses according to her clan's tradition, wearing robes and pants dyed in red, easy for her people to spot in the treacherous depths. Dagmar often paints her eyes in yellows and oranges, in keeping with the sea of magma beneath her feet.
Personality | Dagmar is a very reserved woman. She doesn't make too much of a fuss, and tends to keep to herself and her duties. That is not to say that she is shy, for indeed when the time comes, she does not hesitate to sling out a scathing remark sure to cut through one's heart. Her bluntness can scare strangers off as a result, making her seem scornful and unwelcome. Dagmar is not all thorns and spite, however - to those that she is close to, a softer side of her personality becomes more apparent. As much as she tries to hide it, putting up a show of being as boisterous as every other Denur, Dagmar is a dreamer at heart. She's in love with the sounds of life around her, and cares more for the art of music as opposed to searching for status and wealth. She believes in showing one's worth, as a Denur that does not work is as useless as dirt, and she is prideful of her people and their culture, but, politically speaking, Dagmar is of the opinion that their race's obsession with riches is the cause of much of their hardships.
History | Dagmar is a young Denur, truth be told. She was born but sixty years before, and has not seen much of life before the fall of Dar-ach Denur. Her father toiled at the forge, as did his father, and their forefathers hence. A line unbroken since the days yore, when Arduan spread across the whole of the continent, and all Denur walked with pride in their riches. Even now, with that time long since past, starved out under the calamitous rule of Uldrig Proudfist, and frozen away by the Night of Statues, Dagmar tries her best to keep to the old ways in memory of her parents, now passed from rot.
Even so, there is a yearning with her, a deep need to become one with the sound of music. Possessing a natural talent for poetry and lyricisms, even though Dagmar spends much of her time toiling away for a living, she would often write songs and melodies in her free time. The winds still sung in her ears, guiding her through the cave drafts, lifting her spirits as poisonous gasses, caveins and creatures alike in the mines that could otherwise steal her breath in an instant, and it lifts the spirits of others in turn. As a result, she is a rather accomplished bard, and treats the craft as a forge all her own, with every song, a precious gem to be admired.
Age | 60
Race | Denur
Occupation | Miner by day, bard by night
Appearance | Dagmar is a stout, crimson-eyed Denur woman that is black of hair, and dark brown skin. Her cheeks have a warm undertone, as bright as the glow of ore lining the hot lava layers in her cavern home. She dresses according to her clan's tradition, wearing robes and pants dyed in red, easy for her people to spot in the treacherous depths. Dagmar often paints her eyes in yellows and oranges, in keeping with the sea of magma beneath her feet.
Personality | Dagmar is a very reserved woman. She doesn't make too much of a fuss, and tends to keep to herself and her duties. That is not to say that she is shy, for indeed when the time comes, she does not hesitate to sling out a scathing remark sure to cut through one's heart. Her bluntness can scare strangers off as a result, making her seem scornful and unwelcome. Dagmar is not all thorns and spite, however - to those that she is close to, a softer side of her personality becomes more apparent. As much as she tries to hide it, putting up a show of being as boisterous as every other Denur, Dagmar is a dreamer at heart. She's in love with the sounds of life around her, and cares more for the art of music as opposed to searching for status and wealth. She believes in showing one's worth, as a Denur that does not work is as useless as dirt, and she is prideful of her people and their culture, but, politically speaking, Dagmar is of the opinion that their race's obsession with riches is the cause of much of their hardships.
History | Dagmar is a young Denur, truth be told. She was born but sixty years before, and has not seen much of life before the fall of Dar-ach Denur. Her father toiled at the forge, as did his father, and their forefathers hence. A line unbroken since the days yore, when Arduan spread across the whole of the continent, and all Denur walked with pride in their riches. Even now, with that time long since past, starved out under the calamitous rule of Uldrig Proudfist, and frozen away by the Night of Statues, Dagmar tries her best to keep to the old ways in memory of her parents, now passed from rot.
Even so, there is a yearning with her, a deep need to become one with the sound of music. Possessing a natural talent for poetry and lyricisms, even though Dagmar spends much of her time toiling away for a living, she would often write songs and melodies in her free time. The winds still sung in her ears, guiding her through the cave drafts, lifting her spirits as poisonous gasses, caveins and creatures alike in the mines that could otherwise steal her breath in an instant, and it lifts the spirits of others in turn. As a result, she is a rather accomplished bard, and treats the craft as a forge all her own, with every song, a precious gem to be admired.
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