Role

Chapter 8

Mharr was apprenticed to a slightly deranged dwarven brew-master. Odds
are the old bugger did some damage to himself experimenting with
strange recipes involving absinthe or something worse. The crazy old
coot thought that he was a reincarnation of the old dwarven invokers,
and that Mharr was his apprentice in magick.

Many beatings commenced, generally starting with the drunken old bastard
screaming Light the fargin candle! and ignoring all reality. Time
came and went, and sooner or later Mharr's bare-sark blood was pulled
to the fore. In an orgy of violent destruction, and spilled beer, he
slaughtered his master and destroyed the brewery.

In shame, he shaved off his beard. And refuses to speak on why, getting
quite sensitive when pressed. He pretends to snooty-ness about beer, but
has also sworn off ale in penance. He will sniff it when offered, and
call it swill before tossing it aside. He is also quite sensitive if
called out on the fact that he doesn't fargin' drink.

Mharr has quite the temper, and a sore spot when it comes to mages. He
mostly just feels the need to lash out in extreme violence at the
slightest excuse.