Character Full Name: Rofupi Sprogglegyro
Character In-Game Name: Rofupi
Nickname(s): Rofs, Rofu, Roffy, dat gnome.
Class: Drunken Brawler (Warrior in game)
Hair: dark blue / black, spiked up in a mohawk.
Eyes: Deep purple.
Weight: 56 lbs of ripping gnome muscle.
Height: 3' 6Ã¢â‚¬Â
Usual Garments/Armor: Walks around in a white shirt with a ripped up leather jacket over top of it. Spiked up shoulder pads, black belt with a silver buckle, torn up blue pants that hold a few holes in them, with some leather boots. All of Rofupi's wardrobe is naturally torn due to all of the crazy fights he involves himself into.
Other: Beware the mohawk.
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral borderline good Ã¢â‚¬â€œ Rofupi's tragic past and general recklessness causes him to be the bringer anarchy where ever he goes. He usually looks out for his own interests first and will try to pick a fight with almost anyone taller than him due to his height complex, but when the opportunity presents itself he -will- step up to do the type of good work that everyone else is too much of a Ã¢â‚¬Å“chikan shaif mudda asshole!Ã¢â‚¬Â to do.
Personality: Drunken. Wild. Reckless. Indifferent. Spiteful. Sad. Rofupi is a gnome with a whole encyclopedia's worth of mental problems due to his rough past. He rejects every aspect of Gnome culture due to his internal spite towards it....but also seems to reject everything else in the world. He's very hostile, very confrontational, and very aggressive towards everyone he meets, always feeling the need to prove himself to be stronger than others. Rofupi shows most of his aggression towards traditional Ã¢â‚¬Å“NerdyÃ¢â‚¬Â gnomes, often beating up engineering students for their lunch money, and towards the taller races of Azeroth. Specifically Elves and Draenei.
Like most gnomish families, the Sprogglegyro family consisted of a few gnomes who were simply trying to pick up the pieces of the catastrophe that was Gnomeregan. The Sprogglegyro's nearly lost everything they had in that nightmare of irradiation. Desperate for coin, the Sprogglegyro's migrated over to Stormwind to begin work after receiving a much needed contract for the Deeprun Tram. They had hoped that the Tram, perhaps one of the most intricate engineering developments of the Eastern Kingdom, would provide them with a life time of work that would allow the family to recover from the devastation that Gnomeregan had wrought on them. Both Rofupi's father and mother held the very high hope that the Deeprun Tram was going to be something that would provide subsistence for the family for generations.
Rofupi, like most gnomes, was born in a machine. Since the Sprogglegyro's were struggling financially, they chose not to Ã¢â‚¬Å“customizeÃ¢â‚¬Â or Ã¢â‚¬Å“perfectÃ¢â‚¬Â Rofupi or any of his siblings Ã¢â‚¬â€œ four in total Ã¢â‚¬â€œ but still needed them to provide ample labor in helping with the Deeprun Tram. Once the Sprogglegyro family had settled into Stormwind, they began tireless work on ensuring the Stormwind-side of the Tram was at optimal operation. Pushing Rofupi, his three older brothers and one younger sister, into the fledgling Gnomish engineering school that was set up in the Dwarven District of Stormwind.
His early life was like that of many immigrant gnomes. Full of engineering books, laboratory experiments, smoke, clanging, and staying within the tight-knit community of immigrant gnomes who found it difficult to mingle with the humans of Stormwind. As a young child, like nearly all young gnomes who weren't able to make it into the prestigious Mage Academies, Rofupi spent his time with the small group of his gnomish friends / classmates. Within the dirty smoke-hazed streets of the Dwarven District, he studied and played. Studied and played. Studied and played like any gnome child was expected to do. By the time he was 11, the Deeprun Tram had already been complete and was running perfectly.
Everything was good at this point. Things looked like they would go great for the Sprogglegyro family. At that current time, both parents had a life time of employment running maintenance on the Tram while the children were well on their way to becoming respectable engineers. They could even visit distant relatives and old friends in Ironforge with ease now with the Tram being fully operational. Which the family did on a regular basis; it's always important to keep in touch. It was during one of these routine visits, when Rofupi was around 13 years of age, that his entire view on life was forced to change.
Gnomish engineering is perhaps one of the most marvelous and advanced works in existence. Unfortunately, for all the conveniences that it brings, it has been known to bring in it's fair share of malfunctions from time to time. Most of it is simple inconveniences; being tangled in a backwards-fired net, being shrunk down to the size of a frog, growing a mustache unexpectedly after stepping off a teleporter. But when an item of highly advanced intricate workings, like say that of the Deeprun Tram, comes to a malfunction it brings more than just a slightly embarrassing inconvenience.
Rofupi was 13 years old. He watched his Mother, his little sister, and two of his brothers board on the Deeprun Tram. They were just going on a smallest of errands, to pick up a few engineering parts and drop in to see what Aunt Halyja was up to. They stepped onto the Tram, locked themselves in, checked calibrations, and went off. And never came back.
There were tons of explanations for it. Many, many complex algorithms being spat out about how the propulsion sum failed it's critical hash check at the gamma triangulation. There were many engineers pointing out how the Phlogiston energy converters had been over strained and overheated precisely 4.6 degrees more than they were supposed to. There were many other complicated explanations given to why the Deeprun Tram, a device that was supposed to be the safest revolution in transportation failed in the way it did, but none of it really mattered to Rofu.
Between all of the algorithims, nestled in all of the failed parts, at the end of every theory, the only piece of information that glared out in his head was: Mom, sis, and my older brothers are dead.
The news was more than just traumatic to Rofupi. It changed his entire outlook on engineering. He began to hold a deep-seated grudge towards all things technological. Rofupi started arguing with his teachers, hitting other students with his spanner, and began skipping classes. This caused the gnome to fail his engineering classes and completely ruin all chances he ever had of following his parents footsteps.
It was here in the many years that followed his Ã¢â‚¬Å“TeenageÃ¢â‚¬Â (in reference to Gnomish age span Ã¢â‚¬â€œ not literal number) span, Rofupi became increasingly hostile towards....damn near everyone. He dropped out of his Gnome class before it could complete his Common Language courses, and thus was stuck with a very stuttering, contorted, Ã¢â‚¬Å“Fresh Off the TramÃ¢â‚¬Â accent. He began to attack his once beloved Gnomish childhood friends for being Ã¢â‚¬Å“NerdyÃ¢â‚¬Â, getting a reputation as a bully of the Dwarven District. At first these acts were simply due to his frustrated nature, but soon they grew to be a method of survival. Having failed school and belonging to a family with only one working Engineer (his father), the Sprogglegyro's were on even worse economic conditions than they originally started in. He ended up needing to beat up his former classmates up to simply put food in his stomach.
As the years went by Rofupi became even more violent, reckless, and desperate. It wasn't long before the gnome became a regular at the Ã¢â‚¬Å“badÃ¢â‚¬Â scene of Stormwind. Spiking up his hair into a Mohawk, walking around in torn up clothing, spewing profanity at everyone. Rofupi became a little bundle of anarchy, living only to swill booze and kick the shit out of any human who decided to even look at him wrong. At the age 30, Rofupi left his home in the Dwarven District after a very heated exchange of words with both his father and one remaining older brother. From then on, Rofupi became just another street wandering punk. Fighting the law, breaking noses, fondling tits, living fast, and getting by through whatever means he could. He found himself preferring his fists over anything else. Nothing made a stupid human cry like an uppercut to the dick. The drunken pint-sized brawler of Stormwind hasn't really made much of a life for himself. Rofupi's defined himself as just being another spiteful little punk that just wants to get drunk and punch everyone around him.
But there still might be a glimmer of good, beneath all of that leather and spiked hair. The only question is....is it strong enough to grow or will circumstances push the gnome down an even darker path?