Nitadi Marblehand

[[-Kay-]]

Name: Nitadi Marblehand
Age: 250
Race: Dwarf
Occupation: Healer of sorts
Allegiance: No one but herself
Physical Description: Small. That's one word to describe her. She's got deeply tanned skin that is as furrowed as the earth after a plow. Her hair is long, black and silver, giving her a bit of a distinguished appearance. In her youth, she may have been beautiful and graceful. Now she's an old woman. Very old....ancient even. Her nose might have been straight when she was younger, but now it's sort of mushed looking from multiple breaks. Don't underestimate her. She may look like a weak old crone but she's strong. She's just as able to put her boot up your rear end and kick you out of her tavern as any young soldier in the army. The knife she keeps on her is masterfully crafted, the knife having been with her for many many years. She has an axe, which she keeps underneath her bar for whenever she needs it to threaten a drunk away. She has a shuffling gait, sort of a hobbling waddle. But to make fun of it would be to get hit. She has a gaze like steel, hard and focused; and very judgemental.
Personality: Oh is she a bitter old woman that lives up to her last name. Marblehand...and a marble hand she has. Quick to hit, she punches like a man. She always seems to have something shoved up her hind end, making her angry all the time. But in truth she doesn't. Nevermind the fact she's old, she'll be as rough and brutal as any young executioner. She is a tough old woman, taking hits and rolling with the blows as easily as they come. But don't let her stubborn old exterior fool you. She can be very soft hearted. Just manage to get on her good side and she's actually very sweet. She has no need to be nice to any old hooligan, and she's very quit to boot drunkards out of her tavern. But she's also very sweet to the little street urchins that sleep behind her tavern, giving them the scraps from the day.
History: Ah, the history of the old crone. She was born in the Beor Mountains, in the capital city of the dwarves. Her father was Hrothgar's great grandfather's nephew, and in a way she would turn to be great-great aunt should she live to see him around. But she wasn't treated any diffrently in her childhood. She had a great many suitors as a young adult, her father marrying her off to a young and intelligent soldier. She wasn't keen on the idea of marrying a man she didn't know, but in time she grew to love the man. He was what one might think of as a field medic. She was interested in what he did, when one day he went to help a farmer in the field that had injured himself. She had assisted him, and afterwards asked him to teach her everything that he knew. He taught her well, and she learned quickly. After he taught her about all the medical things he knew, he taught her to fight, that way she could defend herself if the need arose. They had two children, but then the unthinkable happened. Nitadi and her husband lived outside the city, deep in the mountains in a small village that had many Feldnost in their fenced in fields. A band of Urugals found their way into the mountains and attacked their village in the middle of the night. Both of Nitadi's children, and her husband were killed. There was very few people left after the raid, and most of them died from their injuries in a couple days.

Nitadi stayed in the mountains for years and years, staying in her own form of hermitage and not speaking to anyone. At the time of the raid, she'd been a hundred and thirty...middleaged for a dwarf. She stayed in those mountains for seventy years before she left, moving out into the world to find her own life. She moved into a city near the mountains, buying a tavern and beginning to run her own business. She hasn't had any trouble yet, most of the men leaving her alone and listening to her diligently when in her establishment, many of them seeing her as a grandmotherly figure. But don't let that fool you. Many men have only behaved because of a singluar incident, that caused the rumor of what happened to be spread throughout the city and surrounding area. A man was in her bar one evening, slamming his fist on the bartop and demanding things. Nitadi, with the short temper she has, pegged a knife in his hand and pinned it to the table with a simple "Quit banging on my bar." The man ended up losing his hand to gangrene the next week. But now she's attempting to 'behave' in her own way, living as easily as she can.

[Emma]

ACCEPTED! Lovely job!