Thurin Stoutarm
"Je n'ai jamais été un bardeur, ni aucune façon de donner des titres, mais je vais voir ce que je peux faire." Thurin a dit grincheux, hochement. Ses grandes mains reposaient sur sa tête de hache. Le haft de l'arme reposant sur le sol. Thurin n'a pas pris la peine de regarder en garde. Il avait pris la mesure de tous ses compagnons dès qu'il les regardait pour la première fois. Certains d'entre eux semblaient formidables, d'autres moins. Seul le temps le disait, et il doutait que quelqu'un ici était assez idiot pour commencer des ennuis en présence d'un magicien (ou d'un nain fatigué et grincheux pour cela!)
"Oui." Il a parlé après que l'homme l'ait fait. "Mon propre cheval est encore plus las que moi, et nous avons voyagé beaucoup de lieues pour répondre aux convocations de la lettre yon, Maître Wizard. S'il peut être vu aux écuries avec un peu de chaleur et de nourriture, je serais plus susceptible d'écouter sans se plaindre. » Ses paroles ressemblaient à une déclaration, dure et sûre de lui. Jusqu'à ce qu'il ajoute "...et plus de gâteau si possible."
Name: Thurin Stoutarm
Age: 118
Sex: M
Race: Dwarf
Class: Fighter
Equipment: backpack, a week's worth of rations, small tent, whetstone, bandage x 2. A dwarf-made two-handed ax(35), Mail Armor (20) Leather armor over it (15) Saddled Pony, Oil (10), Torch x2 (6), Whetstone (5), Flask (5).
Background story: He was a young Dwarf from the Ironhills when the call to battle reached his hold. He was 40 years old, with a beard that didn't reach his belt, and marched forward to the Battle of the Five Armies. He remembered the elvish arrows and the Orc scimitars, himself felling a few Orcs himself. He helped bury the dead, and held himself both physically and mentally well despite his youth.
He stayed in Erebor to work the mines, and then volunteered for Balin's adventure to Khaza-dum. He was never a heroic dwarf, but he had always been reliable and duty bound. Thurin made his way into the Misty Mountains with Balin and the Dwarven group, before they were attacked by Goblins and Trolls. He was one of the runners sent out to give word they were being attacked, and tried to arrive to Erebor but was cut off from it being attacked by Mordor's forces. He knew he couldn't make it in, so he decided to go back into the Misty Mountains to fight with his brethren, but found them all dead. He had been wandering ever since, looking for a way to atone for his failings.