4'6"
240 lbs
Black hair tied back
Pale yellow eyes that radiate confidence and some intelligence
Homely, even by dwarven standards
Clean shaven, which seems odd for a dwarf and definitely does his angular face no favors
Has dented albeit serviceable scale mail and an extra large great sword strung across his back that almost drags the ground as he walks .
Even as a small guy, Pox knew he wanted something different in his life. He lived in the stereotypical dwarven community in the mountains. All around him, his people acted like dwarves are supposed to…which, well, he found a little monotonous. He, for example, came from a long line of gem cutters. His two brothers would become master cutters like his father although his one sister was probably better at it than all three of them. Pox had some skill too, he had to admit, but he just didn’t have the attention span. It’s not that he didn’t like to do typical dwarven things, he just didn’t like to do them for very long. Instead, he enjoyed running off to explore new things, which typically meant he was in trouble for getting under the feet of his elders – who were “obviously” doing something important. This seemingly flawed aspect of his character was looked on with amusement when he was younger but with far less amusement as he grew into a young man.
When the other elders came complaining, Pox’s father decided he had to do something with his son. He traded one of his favorite emeralds to the Warmaster for some arms training for Pox…hoping that the activity would keep Pox entertained or tire him out at least. Pox took to weaponry like a fish to water. No weapon was too large; no target was safe. Of course, Pox still got in the way of others as he fought his imaginary wars, but he was less of an inconvenience as before. Well, except for the time he accidentally slashed a keg of imported ale…but it was an accident after all.
The following summer, two occurrences changed things for Pox. His clan was a social one as far as dwarves go, and humans came to trade with them once or twice a season. One particular group of humans came like clockwork. They were led by Marvalo, a colorful character that sold potions and trinkets. For example, he sold a potion that made one grow taller if drank by the light of a full moon. No self-respecting dwarf would ever be interested in such a thing although Pox noticed that Marvalo sold out these potions every season. He also offered a service where he could tell the future from the shape of the bumps on one’s head. Pox had never really considered his future, but he paid Marvalo to do it anyway. Truth be know, he used this as an excuse to hang around the wagons since Marvalo’s daughter had caught his eye. Much to the surprise of anyone in attendance, Marvalo confidently announced that Pox would grow up to be a great poet. This really surprised Pox, who had never read a poem since he’d never bothered to learn to read, but who was he to argue?
That started Pox on his poetry kick…much to the chagrin of everyone else. Still, though, it was better than when he ran around swinging his sword at everything. So, despite the fact that his poetry was really awful, they all humored him outrageously. The following season, he tried it out on Marvalo’s daughter who immediately burst into giggles as Pox compared her fair human hair to his own mother’s whispy beard. When he was done, he asked for a kiss. She told him that he could have that kiss if he could catch her and broke out into a run. And, she was fast. He had no chance to catch her although he tried all week until they left.
He spent the next few seasons spouting poetry and running…and typically both at the same time. Highly motivated by the young girls silky hair and long, long legs, Pox ran day and night with little to no breaks. Most dwarves found him highly unnatural and shook their heads, but he was never the type to really care. By the end of the second season, he was faster than any dwarf of his clan. When Marvalo’s crew showed up again, Pox asked his daughter for the kiss. Once again, she laughingly told him that he could have it if he caught her and took off. This time though, he was able to catch her and she shyly gave him that kiss. They did the same thing for the new few days…a race culminating in a chaste kiss. On the fifth day, however, Marvalo saw the whole thing play out. He packed up his wagon, his supplies, and his daughter. It’s been four seasons since then, and they haven’t returned.
Pox finally decided to leave his clan and travel the world. With a few gems to trade for some armor and a sword, he took off to find adventure, an open-minded human woman, and a muse for his poetry.