Mül Greyskull

[Mül Greyskull]

Mül

FULL NAME --- Müloessen Fraubdyseith-Umvilfreet Greyskull
BIRTHDATE/AGE --- The Seventh of July, a rather long time ago/Old. Probably older than he looks, which is saying something.
GENDER --- Male; of that, at least, most are fairly certain.
SEXUAL ORIENTATION --- An old fashioned dwarf, he likes the ladies, often regardless of shape, size, color, age, or indeed species.
SPECIES --- Dwarf, though there are a handful of rumors that he's some kind of halfbreed.
OCCUPATION --- Wizard, warrior, enchanter, and blacksmith to the few old and/or informed enough to know it. Most often known these days for having a rather prodigious hand in the culinary and knitting arts.
APPEARANCE ---

Much what you might expect of a dwarf: rather square in shape. Half-again as wide as he is tall at the shoulders and half-again as thick as he is wide from back to front; even Mül's round dome, sat atop a nearly non-existent neck, is obscured from standing out from his overall-blocky shape by the mass of dark-gray and heavily-streaked-with-snow-white hair and beard fanned about it. In the middle of this mass of curls and braids and tangles is a surly continence topped by a numerously-furrowed heavy brow which sits upon a rather large and somewhat crooked hooked nose. His deep-set eyes are dark and nestled in pockets of wrinkles, the lines of which suggest more years spent frowning or glaring than laughing or smiling.

Most often garbed in several layers of cloakas, shawls, robes, jackets, jerkins, breeches, and mitts (all of which he likely knitted himself); Mül does not travel light. His wardrobe is full of hidden pockets and pouches and concealed straps containing everything from needles and yarn to herbs and and spices, bread and cheese and meat; from wild berries to stoppered inkwells and quills and parchments. What many might likely never know is that he is never without a pair of rather large battlehammers with one mace-like head and one flat blade each which he forged himself, strapped to his back beneath several cloaks and shawls, or that many of the herbs he carries are for purposes more arcane than mere herbal remedies or adding pleasant tangs to stews.

PERSONALITY ---

Most find Mül difficult to read, as he is not particularly expressive in either features or vocal tone. He will grimace and grumble at you in his deep, scratchy, voice just the same when telling a raunchy joke as when detailing a battle formation. Those who have been around him enough will tell others to count this as a blessing; Mül's versions of emotions are rather terrifying, from his ghastly and maniacal idea of laughter that seems to contort his face against its natural order to the thunderous roar and murderous glare that accompany his rare instances of true fury.

That is not to say that he does not feel or care, merely that he rarely does so with an intensity great enough to break his surly demeanor. Mül has advice, aid, even comfort to give to those he sees need it; one must simply be able to see it for such through the brisk words and rough gestures it is expressed in. One should also always take anything the old dwarf has to say with a grain (or a handful) of salt, as he is far from being above embellishment and his undisturbed continence and monotone delivery make it difficult to determine a facetious statement from a sincere one.

Once you come to terms with all of that though, Mül is actually quite a friendly fellow in his own way, always happy to share what he has with others... most frequently: warm knit blankets, hot spicy stews, and tales both grand and mundane to pass the cold nights. He'll braid your daughter's hair for the festival tomorrow, carve your son a rough-hewn toy soldier and be quite content to play with him for hours, and brew you a potent tea for that racking cough of yours. And, in the morning, he may well have moved on and left behind ribbons in your daughter's hair tied into butterflies whose wings flutter, a toy soldier who marches across the floor of its own volition, and you with a clear, healthy, chest.

But now, for the first time in an age, war between the nations threatens and Mül's heart is heavy as his people steadily lose the battle to maintain peace between their neighbors. The old dwarf is determined to, as swiftly and decisively as possible, do everything in his power to either stop the coming conflict or end it when it arrives but he is but one and one who has spent a time out of the grander machinations of the world. So first he must take stock of where Finalu is now and who of strength move in it, for the future belongs to and thus should be shaped by those younger than he.

FAMILY AND HISTORY ---

If you ask Mül for the story of his life, he will happily provide it. The details may change from telling to telling, but the formula remains the same.

He was born to a simple life, son of a blacksmith or farmer or local seamstress. He sought more though, full of passion and fire that got him into scuffs and trouble more often than not. He was beginning to earn quite the reputation as a young hooligan the last time the dwarves went to war but he still, like any responsible young fellow, dropped it all when the call came to serve his nation.

Mül will claim he was a great warrior but one without accolades... both points because he soon learned the most important talent of combat: running! That is not to say that he was a coward though, that he did not fight, for one day he met a foe on the field of battle that changed everything. To hear him tell it, they dropped their arms as soon as their eyes met and, to hear him tell it after enough rounds of ale, their briches soon thereafter.

For it was love at first sight with some exotic foreign woman. An elven sorceress who taught him the secrets of magic, or a fae queen who wanted to breed some dwarven sensibility into her heirs that they might better rule their flighty subjects, or a vampiric assassin who secretly showed him the secret of immortality; whatever the variation, there's was a love for the ages, all the more invigorating for its taboo nature during a time of war between their peoples.

But it was young love: fast and hot and then merely smoke in the wind. And they eventually parted ways: better, wiser, people for having experienced such a romance however, Mül will tell you. The war raged and he learned to revel in it. The war ended but the world and its many conflicts and struggles and reshapings continued and he thought he had found what he'd always been missing in the grandness of battle and statecraft and shaping the world. But he got old and tired and so, after many long years, came home and adopted the simple life, sating his remaining wanderlust by traveling to share his knitted wares in the winter months.

You decide what is true and what is false, what is shared and what is kept secret, for who knows with the stories of an old man?

YOUR ALIAS --- Leksy
OTHER CHARACTERS --- Nope!
OTHER --- Nada!

[Lychee]