Macman253

Alrighty, so I have a character I am working on but I am having a hard time selecting a mount. Since he is a dwarf a horse isn't his preferred and because of his affinity with Earth I wanted to find a mountable animal that is comfortable with burrowing and underground fighting. Any hints or suggestions, I am at a loss. Spent the last two hours browsing every monster manual I have looking for inspiration.

Alright, give me abit. Need to do some rethinking.

May I get an explanation as to why I have to scrap them?

GENERAL INFORMATION: Name: Tullo Stoutheart Of Clan Grimnir Gender: Male Race: Shield Dwarf Age: Fifty Two (Roughly 26 by human standards of maturity) Class: Ranger,Rogue,Alchemist Alignment: Neutral Good Deity: Moradin (Prays to Berronar Truesilver, Clanggedin Silverbeard, Dugmaren Brightmantle and Marthammor Duin also) APPEARANCE: Height: 4'6" Weight: 180 lbs Hair: Dark brown, slicked back often with oils. Small beard. Eyes: Lightning Blue Skin: Light pale Handedness: Left handed Scars/Tattoos: Has a runic tattoo on his neck that designates his clan. Numerous scars earned from his career as a Monster Slayer. General physical description: Tullo is small by comparison to his older brother, he has little physical muscle mass due to his lack of combat training. His hair is slicked back most times but if he can't apply oil he ties it back with a strap of leather, his beard is small by comparison to his older brother. It consists of a goatee, tied with a leather strap and held in place with a carved metal clip. Voice: Unlike most dwarves Tullo speaks fairly, he has little to no accent and has a voice most would not consider a dwarf standard. Clothing/Armor: Tullo wears a dwarf metal breastplate and boots. His pants are made of studded leather and he wears a long leather overcoat adorned with numerous pockets and vials. He wears large round spectacles to offset his poor vision in daylight. He carries a large satchel that is actually a bag of holding and a large tome at his side hooked to a leather strap that hangs freely. Weapons: Byrtha, a custom repeating crossbow with a deployable bayonet and a bomb launcher attachment. An invention of his. He carries various bombs he creates to aid in his monster hunting, he often makes Tangle Bombs, Thunderstones and Alchemists Fire bottles he can toss at his opponents. PERSONALITY: General personality traits: Tullo is intelligent often to a point that people often feel uncomfortable around him, he is a very devout dwarf but curious, often remarking on stonework he encounters or jotting down his thoughts on various subjects and keeping extensive drawings of things he encounters. He has a perpetual eye of wonder, enjoying learning of a broad array of subjects from arcane to zoology. Tullo often is the first to apologize for his mistakes and the mistakes of his impetuous brother. Tullo often goes into periods of intense focus when an idea strikes him and he spends hours jotting down notes, creating alchemical formulae or drafting schematics for improvements on his weapons or bombs, he treats the large tome he calls the 'Monster Manual' as a treasure, the focus of all his work and enjoys showing it to people. Likes: Archaeology, alchemy, monster hunting, music and learning new things. Dislikes: Duergar, Giants, Orcs and Goblins and ignorant beliefs. Fears: Losing his clan and brother, losing his precious Monster Manual, Illithids. Attitudes towards friends/strangers: Tullo is friendly compared to the more traditional behavior of his older brother. He is not as wary of strangers as his brother and often takes pleasure in conversation with strangers as well as friends. He is wary of Drow because of his clan's constant skirmishes with them and their Duergar allies but he was never on the frontline in the tunnels like his brother was with the Deepwardens and is more trustful of them compared to his brother and Clan. Opinion of the world: "Infinite discoveries await" HISTORY: Past: Tullo spent most of his childhood in the great library and alchemy lab in his clan's stronghold, Kar Grimnir. Which translates to Hall Of Grimnir in common. His mother was the clan's resident wizard and Rune Caster. She took him as an apprentice alongside his sister but he had no aptitude with magic, he was more interested in alchemy and studying beasts and engineering then magic. He would often hold up in the workshop with his great-great uncle Kedrak who he took after more then his mother. He quickly developed his skills under his Uncle's tutelage and by the time he was allowed to leave he was already a Master Alchemist and had upgraded Kar Grimnir's defenses several times over and was considered by the clan to be a prodigy. Most of the clan considered him strange but they accepted him willingly, but he was always in the shadow of his older brother who was the apple of their father's eye. Tullo was no warrior but he could defend himself, using his keen eyesight and cleverness he often was able to out think his older brother and beat him in such ways. Because of this they grew close and often competed amicably with one another. When his older brother, Rodli chose to leave the Clan hold to pursue a life as a Monster Slayer his father rejected, saying that the original ways of the clan did not matter while they warred with the denizens of the Underdark that besieged them, nevertheless his brother left. Tullo chose to go with him and has not returned in several years for fear of his fathers wrath. He and his brother quickly became well known monster slayers and were often contracted to rid beasts and monsters by countless feudal lords and villages, even a few monarchs. Their reputation grew quickly until Rodli and Tullo were separated from one another by a rogue wizard they were contracted to capture to be put on trial for his crimes, the wizard teleported his brother away and escaped, Tullo now wanders Faerun looking for his older brother. Birthplace: Kar Grimnir Family/Relationships: Grimnir Stoutheart (Father, Alive) Medra Stoutheart (Mother, Alive) Rodli Stoutheart (Brother, Missing) Kedra Stoutheart (Sister, Alive) Kedrak Stoutheart (Great-Great Uncle on Mother's side, Alive) Friends: Rodli Stoutheart Enemies: Monsters, Duergar and Goblins. OTHER INFORMATION: Tullo possesses a pony and cart with which he travels due to his unwillingness to ride a horse. He also possess a deployable camp that contains all his alchemical ingredients and map making, engineering and his study aswell as a pair of dwarf-sized bed and a ward that protects him against people that wish him or his brother ill-will from entering the tent. When the tent is setup all the things inside the tent are in the place they were left last, no matter how many times it is broken down and reconstructed. The cart itself is very small, enough room for two dwarves and the equipment they need. (This is mostly for RP purposes, while he does have a Bag Of Holding inside it is finished maps, books, potions and spare ammunition for his crossbow this is designed to allow him to make things as he needs when they are at camp. It takes little space as it appears to be a one person tent but inside it is much larger then it appears due to the magical enchantment on the tent)

I am sorry I have not posted this but I need to pull out until the 1st of September. I am in school and my quarter ends then, after that I will have vastly more free time since it is my last quarter at that school. Sorry for not telling you all ahead of time, just been swamped in work, testing and lab time.

Bjorn growled as he paced the hall and thought about what was to happen. He knew his companions did not care for him. He did not care for them. They were as murderous as he was, it was in that companionship that made them useful. Bjorn thought of the war with the Nords as he stood in the hallway. He had been away from his homeland longer then he had lived in it. He had no family and any honor he once had died with the Jarl he once served as Huscarl. He cared not where the coin came from now. Truth be told he did not care about the Swadians insults... he cared for drink and battle. Nothing more. He returned down stairs to the main room and glanced at the terrified innkeeper. He looked down in shame at his disgracing outburst and fumbled out a few denars for the chair, plus something extra. He said nothing but he knew he had to make amends. When the bandit from earlier entered and began demanding the goods they looted Bjorn looked to Bellatrix. "Kill him... no guards will complain about 'te loss of 'is 'ead." Spoke the Nord as he set his axes pommel on the floor, hand resting on the head.

Bjorn glares into the Swadians eyes. "They are not my people... but you insult me, it will not be forgotten Swadian." He growls as he steps closer, keeping his axe near. "We won't always be in Swadian cities.. anything can 'appen to a man on a battlefield." Says the Nord with a murderous glare. "Remember that Swadian... rank an' a woman won't protect you forever." He added before spitting on the floor and leaving for upstairs. Not even bothering to pay for the broken chair and completely ignoring Bellatrix.

Bjorn seethed with hate and pain. He wanted to cave the prissy swadians head in when he spoke of his people as animals but he chose to ignore it for now. Later when they were in the tavern Bjorn kicked a chair in rage, the chair flew across the room and shattered as the Nord bellowed. He raised his axe and pointed it at Cameron. "You an' me! You prick sucking Swadian princess!" He growled, "I will drink from your broken skull!" He growled at the Swadian

Bjorn remained silent as they traveled, his hand clutched his side. The bleeding had slowed extensively so long as he kept the makeshift bandage from his blanket tied tight around his ribs, often changing it while they rode. When they came across the Swadian noble, Bjorn swung wide of the Swadians view, one Swadian is all he could tolerate, sixty plus the ego of the noble was more then the injured Nord could stand. As Bellatrix and the noble exchanged pleasantries Bjorn watched the horizon, seeing an eagle perched on a branch not far away. He looked about to see if others were watching him, then he broke out a large flat folder of parchment and opened it up. He took a piece of charcoal and began sketching the bird, the book was filled with similar sketches of birds from foreign and domestic lands, it was obviously the Nords preferred hobby and a well practiced hand at it. As they began to break from their conversation Bjorn tucked his sketchpad away and wheeled his horse around. "We should continue... avoid any further patrols." He said to Bellatrix as he rode by.

Bjorn chuckled as Bellatrix appeared wearing a Vaegir helmet. He clutched his side in pain, he pulled his hand away from the wound to find fresh blood on it. His chainmail was stained with sweat and blood from the fight. He growled quietly and hid the wince as he walked over to his horse to stash his loot. When the woman spoke up he whirled around, axe in hand. But he relaxed when he saw the creature before him. He fell silent and looked down and away, not wanting to catch her eyes, especially when he saw that she was Komolov's sister. He took hold of Brida's reigns and slid his axe into the loop on her saddle. "We should move.." Spoke the big Nord to Bellatrix, "That bandit may come back 'an he may 'ave more men." He added as he looked at her, he then pulled himself into the saddle with a uncontrollably loud growl of pain. His side felt like it had been lit on fire and he clutched at the still bleeding wound. "We best be goin'." He said through gritted teeth as he turned Brida in a half circle to face Bellatrix.

Markas chuckled lightly. He had never seen a Half-Dragon Halfling before and it amazed him to see how much she took after her Halfling side. "If ye' eat to fast you'll get the collywobbles." He said to her as he leaned against the bar, "Terrible feeling those.." He added. Fang continued to chase the now freed plate across the room, licking it clean while dragging his drooping jowls on the floor while leaving a wet trail of dog slobber behind him, his tail beating the air like a griffons wing. He was clearly enjoying the meat scraps and it's remnants. "I have to ask.." Said Markas, finding his courage. "Ne'er met a Halfling Half-Dragon before..." He added before taking a drink of his ale, he wipes his lips clean with the kilt he wore as a cloak. "...Truth be told, I ne'er met a Half-Dragon before, but I wanted to ask ye' what it's like to be one?" Said the Outrider with a wide and warm smile, his eyes filled with genuine curiosity.

Bjorn tossed the ragged shield aside, it was covered in a forest of arrow shafts. "Fifty arrows..." He commented before turning back towards the group. The Bandits had fled and Bjorn didn't really care but as he walked he limped slightly and cursed himself as he clutched his side tenderly. He used his axe to roll a bandit's corpse over and rifled through the pockets, finding a knife, some denars and a crude etching of a nude woman. Bjorn strapped the knife to his boot with a piece of leather strip, slipped the denars into his pouch and stuffed the etching into his pack. He rolled over a half dozen more bodies, finding mostly denars and jewelry the bandits had looted. He smiled, knowing he would walk away from this far richer then when he entered it. Bjorn knocked a spare head towards Cameron when he asked about identifying the bandits. "A few should be all we need." He replied to the Swadian.

*claps* I like it. Very Xena of you...

Markas roused Fang from the children's affections, he whined when they departed. He patted the hound on the back and led him to the tavern with the stables where he removed the saddle, oiled up the mastiff's back and joined his companions inside the tavern after they had settled in. Fang walking in with him. The Halfling joined Llhunarra and Abby at the bar, sitting on the red-headed half-elf's left hand side. "Pint of ale an' a plate of meat bits for my hound." Said the Outrider to the cook. He looked over as Abby devoured the bread and potatoes. "It good that?" He said, gesturing to her plate with a nod of his head. Fang streched out beside him and yawned before sticking his nose over the counter as the ale arrived, the cook patted the hound on the nose before walking around the bar to deliver the meat bits to him. The plate itself was a fair mound of meat scraps, mostly fat cutaways from steak or food folk had left on their plates piled onto a large pan, it didn't bother Fang to eat it though, the hound began to scarf large bites, slowly pushing the pan across the floor as he ate until it collided with a stool leg and stayed still while the dog ate. Markas picked up his ale, chuckled at Fang and took a deep drink.

In your own time, we aren't going to run off on you or anything lol

Bjorn picked up a nearby shield, it already had a few arrowheads dug into it. It was battered, ill repaired and worn to near uselessness but he knew he would never get within axe-reach of the archers without it. He hefted the shield up and kicked the last head into the pile that would be useful in proving their bounty to the local Lord. He ignored the Swadian's remark and instead watched the treeline. He had a sudden feeling this would turn bad, and sure enough it did. He raised his shield when an arrow struck near him just in time for the shield to reflect a arrow as it struck, the arrow spun wildly in the air and landed next to him as he bent down to hide his legs behind the shield. He looked at the arrow, it's shaft was warped and the arrowhead was bent, which is why it didn't penetrate his shield. He whispered a prayer to the gods at his fortune. "M'lady Bellatrix!" He shouted as he saw her charge the tree line. The Nord growled and stood before charging the treeline with his shield raised. He felt the arrows impact the shield, one popped through and nearly caught him in the eye. He felt his side burn with pain as he ran what felt like miles to his target. An arrow whizzed by his ear, another grazed his ankle but the armor plate attached to the front of his boot deflected it. It began to swell with pain but he could still run so he knew it was not broken. "Lady Bellatrix!" He yelled as he charged the treeline, raising his axe and leaping into the fray, axe raised and ready.

Bjorn rolled his eyes at this pointless mistrust between the bandit and Bellatrix. He hefted up his axe and brought it down on the neck of a dead bandit, then batted the head aside and followed suit on another corpse, tossing the heads into a pile as he went along. "Just collect te' damn 'eads an' be done wit' this." He growled, ignoring the piercing pain in his side as he felled the axe on another head before kicking it into the growing pile.

Bjorn spat on the ground, he fell quiet. His issue with the loud mouthed Swadian would be resolved another day. The giant Nord turned to face the bandit that Bellatrix was speaking to. The long-hafted axe in his hand. He looked a frightful visage, covered in blood from head to foot, the once-white fur stained with blood, his chainmail jerkin rented from a blow taken to his ribs which only now begun to pain him. His battle fever was subsiding and now his bones began to hurt and his muscles ached. Blood trickled down his leg from the cut on his side which soaked his chainmail jerkin. He stuck a finger in the wound, the rib was sore but it did not hurt much. "Not broken..." He thought as he felt the shallow wound, it stung like ice water on a burn from the sun, Bjorn hid the pain from his face before anyone could see. He would have to tend to it when they made camp. "One more 'ead won't burden te' growin' pile." He said, nodding towards the field of corpses.

Bjorn rended a the bandits head as he charged, the Swadian began to spout his words and Bjorn turned to him. He was covered in blood and towered a good foot taller then him unsaddled. "I'd like to see ya' try that horse-boy!" He growled, he hefted his axe onto his shoulder and approached. He spat on the Swadians face as he came close. "I'd pay my last coin to see you try 'an take me one on one." The Nord was furious with anger, the battle-rage still gripped him and one more corpse won't make a difference.

Bjorn looked a terrible visage as he rended a mans arm from his torso, the bandit screamed like woman giving birth and dropped, holding his spurting stump. "Four!" He cried, bodies of bandits surrounded him, many missing heads, arms, hands or faces. He was covered in arterial blood, his blonde hair was red, his face matching. His axe rose and fell, drawing a stream of blood as it struck. He whirled the blade in a great arc, taking two bandits in the neck with one swing, their heads popping into the air. "Six!" He bellowed before laughing loudly. A small and dinky looking man with a dagger and small shield came at him with his shield raised, Bjorn grabbed the shield with his hand and ripped it free then dug his axe into the earth and whacked the bandit across the face with the shield, sending him face first into the mud and blood. He spat on the injured man and picked up his axe to finish him off. "Seven." He said in a calm tone, the battle-fever raged in his head, he felt his heart beating in his chest like war drums. "It's a good life.." He said with a smile before he looked around him. Seven corpses lay nearby in their various states of dismemberment. He wiped the blood from his axe's head and hefted it up then took off at a run towards the archer as he tussled with a bandit. "When all else fails.. crush 'is 'ead in right?" He said with a smile as he looked upon the Vaegir's handiwork. He slapped the Vaegir on the back, "Good lookin' out wit' yer' bow." He nodded and started back towards the battle.

Bjorn spat as the others made the battleplan, he pulled his axe free of it's loop on his saddle and ran his thumb along the edge, drawing a bead of blood that ran down his thumb, stopping at his wrist. He spoke a few whispered prayers and turned his horse around to face them. "A Nord does not attack when his enemy cannot see him.. besides.. I fare better when face to face with my foes." He said, giving a glare towards the Swadian, "I do not kill those without weapons or those who have their backs to me." He growled in his usual Nordic accent, with that said he turned his horse around and started to charge at the unsuspecting Bandits. He whooped and hollered as he rode at breakneck speed, he urged his horse faster with the haft of his axe. "Today is a good day to die!" He yelled just before leaping from his mount into a disorganized group of the Bandits, horse, nord and bandit collided in a terrible crash that sent men to the ground. Bjorn landed shoulder first into a bandit that was readying his shield but was unable to bring it up in time to stop the death or glory charge of the Nord. Bjorn was on his feet as fast as a cat, he had obviously done this kind of tactic before. He raised his axe and drove it into the skull of a bandit as he fumbled for his cudgel. "One!" Bjorn cried as he ripped the axe free and charged after another Bandit.

Markas rode alongside the group, he laid on the back of Fang in a very dept balance as he played a tin flute in a lively Halfling tune. Fang kept pace with the horses. He sang a tune about lovely halfling lasses and their lovely backsides. When they got to town he had drifted off into a sleep in the saddle. He was awaken by the groups murmurings about the stares from the villagers. "Huh-what?" He snorted as he came to, he looked up and around. "Seems like the locals don't see many of our kind." He added with a smile. Fang's tail began to beat the air when the kids stormed out to meet them. He dismounted and walked alongside him, they gazed in awe at the War Hound, petting his sides and scratching his belly as he rolled over, saddle and all, into the street for a much deserved belly scratch. One little girl in particular scratched him and his large leg began to beat the ground with a heavy and fast thudding sound, similar to a cavalry charge of heavy horse. His large pink tongue hung out of his mouth and a large grin of pure ecstasy on his face. Markas began to laugh, he had never seen his companion in such bliss. He looked up as Llhunarra and Ramses, "I suggest we ask them where the stables are... once they are done with Fang here. " He said with his usual large smile. He gestured to the hound, who still lay on his back enjoying the petting from the children. "It seems they robbed me of my best friend and mount." He added with a deep chuckle.

Bjorn walked out of the tavern with his companions, he ignored the Swadians posturing and stood next to Bellatrix when he rode up on his horse. He scoffed when he saw the swaggering peacock of a man sitting on a nag that he dubbed "respectable and proud" "Not often ye' see a horse with two rear ends.." He said aloud while staring at the Knight. "Let alone a horse that is more appealing then it's rider." He added, just to throw some sting on his words. Bjorn moved to the nearby stables, his horse was already saddled as he had not planned to stay within the city for long anyways, the things he had purchased earlier were stowed in his saddlebags. He flipped his last coin to the boy he had hired to watch his horse while he ate in the tavern, the young boy caught the coin and thanked the Nord before running off. His horse, Smoka was a large Charger that dwarfed a normal sized man, but to Bjorn it seemed within proper scale, part of the reason he chose the large black and gray horse. He stepped up into the saddle, slid his axe into a loop on the side and rode up to join the others. "Lets leave before I decide to rid the Swadian of his head and sell the horse to a tannery." He growled angrily, he knew a fight was coming and he felt a black mood coming that would require ale or blood to subside, he knew exactly which he would find by the gallons at the end of their destination but Bjorn was prepared, he had a bottle of hard ale in his saddlebag and it would tide his mood over until they reached the bandit camp, so long as the Swadian kept his mouth shut and stayed out of arms reach.

I amended my backstory a little. Was not too keen on making him Jarl because I think he is not really the type for such a role.

Bjorn smiled and chuckled loudly. "You are strong of heart, a fine thing. You will have me and my axe without charge. I can find more then enough compensation among the bandits." He chuckled, she was fierce. He respected that. "I apologize m'lady for my disrespect. I meant nothin' by it." Said the burly Nord. "Was just testin' your mettle." He added as he hefted the axe up onto his shoulder. "Aye, I have a horse." He replied when she asked.