Name : Igneous "Iggy" Bloodbeard
Beard length : Down to his knees
Home : Now resting in the Halls of his Fathers (Alive for Second Age RP though).
Appearance : By reputation, Bloodbeard was a huge hulking specimen of his Race. His coarse hair was black as night and his grey eyes hard as rock.
Occupation : Miner/Warrior in Khazad-Dum, during the Second Age of the Sun.
Personality : Gruff, brash, rude, unkempt and generally unsocial. Not a Dwarf you would yearn to aggravate and not a temper you would likely survive.
Interests : Hitting hard, caving in the deep of the Earth and hewing his detested foes.
Weapon : A mighty double headed axe that was no more fair to look upon than he, as he was fond of saying. It did as required, and that was all that mattered to him. He named it (loosely translated) "Ruby".
History/Infamy : Bloodbeard was a dedicated miner who spent his days, nights, and most of his life working underground in the great Dwarvish masterpiece that is now crudely named as 'Moria'. He was not especially anything of note to anyone who cared not for stone, hard work, and a love of the earth. During the glory days of Eregion when/where Dwarves and Elves experimented with a mutual alliance, Bloodbeard was reluctantly awarded duties alongside a (mostly Noldorin) Elf, a survivor of Maeglin's House of Mole/Miners. He delighted in learning the Elf’s nickname was 'Snowdrop'.
Their partnership in stone was an unexpected success although they spoke scarce of their own respective selves. It was not an exchange of cultural intrigue which bound them together but more so a shared devotion to the art of mining, stone carving, etc. Neither had much time or care for the prospect of discovering/nurturing precious gems, and any that they came across were duly gifted to an absolutely thrilled she elf named Nariel.
When Ost-in-Edhil was sacked and the Gwaith-I-Mirdain devastated by Sauron, Bloodbeard (known until this point only as "Igneous") and his Elvish accomplice were deep about the foundations of the Dwarvish stronghold. They realised the startling turn of events only as Durin's Dwarvish army returned from their allied army assault on the Enemy's forces. Nariel and countless other Elvish survivors of the desolation had fled to Imladris. But the (other) Dwarves had played a pivotal role in securing this Elvish escape, and now their gates were shut.
In the guise of sneaking ‘Snowdrop’ out of Khazad-Dum, and escorting the Elf some ways toward Lothlorien, the infamous first-known Iggy instead craved for a taste of battle against Sauron's wretched orcs. The notion that he had missed out on all the "fun" was not one he was willing to accept. They forsook all thoughts of going to Lorien and instead went into Eriador and commenced a long scale guerrilla aggression against the army which had besieged Imladris.
They did not manage to break through by any means, but their efforts made them both ‘feel better". And the thought of Nariel and the others besieged was enough to inspire a bloody reign of cruelty that gnawed at the rear of the Enemy's army like a persistent finger picking at a scab they refused to leave be. Their aim was to break the Orc's morale and they struck largely in daytime when the Orcs were groggy/less able to retaliate and properly eradicate their little plague. Naturally their luck could not and did not hold out, and the pair found themselves inevitably ambushed, outnumbered and incarcerated in the hopes of extracting secret information about Imladris. Thankfully for the both of them, they did not have to hold out too long before the siege was finally broken, as was the power of Sauron in Eriador, thanks to the Armies of Lindon and Numenor.
Iggy Bloodbeard, he was ever known after, for the beard which tended to become quite literally thick with the blood of his foes during battle. He later died of old age, in his bed, and fully recognised amongst his consequent line of descendants as a mighty warrior and a dem fine Dwarf.
Name : Igneous "Iggy" Steeljaw.
Beard Length : Tucks into his boots
Home : A frequent wanderer, the 'world' is his home. Often he stays though with/squats in the halls of a family friend in Imladris
Appearance : Brown hair, both on his head and of his beard, very long and dishevelled, and falls well past his knees. He has piercing green eyes and is ever draped in a wide array of furs that further his bulky build. Evidently his labours in hunting feed him well enough.
Occupation : Runemaster/Mystic/Trapper
Personality : Mercurial and mystifying. Deeply religious. Steeljaw makes all his decisions based upon 'signs' and the suggestions that his runestone "whispers" to him, rather than trusting to logic. Can prove somewhat forgetful, but his 'hunches' have a tendency of being right, against all reason.
Interests : Hunting, trapping, selling/eating his hard won wares.
Weapon/s : His trusted runestone. A myriad of various animal traps.
History/Infamy : Little known even amongst his own kin. He is the traveller who tends to be forgot. He falls in and out of touch with peers and allies, so that little is known of his actual movements.
He was born in the Blue mountains in the latter third age, and is a direct descendent of Iggy Blackbeard. But his elder brother, Iggy Hammerstorm, inherited the expectation, the physical similarity and the ancient tool of their forefather. His people scratch their heads and ponder whether they believe that Steeljaw is even still alive.
He roams far and trades, mostly with Men and Hobbits. However his interest in trapping has evolved in recent years to an obsession with obtaining goblin traps and torture devices, that he can take apart, improve upon, and return to their owners, .. with a vengeance !
Name : Igneous "Iggy" Hammerstorm
Beard Length : Exactly the recommended length as dictated by arbitrary rules his father once made up and passed off to his sons as lore/law.
Home : Blue Mountains
Appearance : Said to eerily resemble his infamous forefather, Bloodbeard, but this is more to do with size and attitude than actual physical resemblance. Dark hair, tending to be strewn with dirt, a hazard of his occupation. Twinkling blue eyes, like sapphires.
Occupation : Miner
Personality : Stern but sombre. Hammerstorm is a Dwarf of few words but mighty actions. You would be lucky to get a word out of him. He had no interest of the affairs of other folks outside his own, and would diligently go about his business without interruption, if permitted. Very defensive as to his beloved wife and daughter. Shhhh they are a secret !
Interests : Mining, teaching his young apprentice, Bronte, to be as great a miner as himself.
Weapon/s : He has inherited the legendary (but, he considers "ugly") axe, that his forefather named 'Ruby'. Unfortunately, in his opinion. For there seems to abound great expectation that he should follow his ancestor's example and hammer up a storm, so to speak.
History/Infamy : Not much to speak of as yet. He lives in the Blue Mountains in the latter part of the Third Age. He has a wife, a daughter and an apprentice. He is somewhat backward in coming forward with details about himself. At least so far.
Vestri Karkûna