Bofvir

Information

Player: Azheron

Character Full Name: Bofvir Hammerhood

Character In-Game Name: Bofvir

Nickname(s): Bof

Association(s): Ironforge

Race: Dwarf

Class: Paladin

Age: 179

Sex: Male

Hair: His slightly gray, long hair runs freely across his shoulders. His beard is long and very finely taken care of.

Eyes: Bofvir has green, rather large eyes.

Weight: 97kg, very much of it muscle.

Height: 1.59 cm.

Other: Here is his flagRSP description: Bofvir looks old, very old. He is almost venetable. His eyes are mostly welcoming, his voice gentle. He always talks in a slow, calm manner. He does not seem serious, if not in a battle. He does not mostly wear armor, but a relaxed robe.

Alignment: Lawful Good

Appearance

He mostly wears a robe, and beneath it, rough leather. Mostly he also has a hammer

Personality

Bofvirs personality, in reality, is actually very temperative. He would get angry of any matter, if he wouldn't suffocate it with will. He is too devoted to get drawn off my emotions. He believes the Light is absolute, he would not ever try to fight against it's orders.

Bofvir has a more humoristic point of view when looking at life. He laughs more than an average person, and mostly does not care of others opinions on himself. In all company, he still tries to keep a good aura around him, trying to be everybody's friend, no matter who the person. He does not befriend with the Horde, thought, as he knows they are a dangerous bunch. Neither does he so with the undead.

He hates violence. He would only use it against the Scourge, or for a cause he thinks is good.

He has a great hatred for the undead, also, more so for the Scourge, but the Forsaken aren't his favorite people either. Draenei are people who he holds wise, considering their long age and beliefs of light. His image of a human is a young, unexperienced warrior. There are single humans he likes more than others, but mostly thinks of them as unexperienced, because of their short age. Night Elves, inside, he thinks they are mostly weird and too serious, but outside he'll mostly hang out with anyone, and Night Elves aren't bad people.

History

Bofvir, who was then called Humrin, was born in a poor family, as an only child, his father a drinker and mother a quiet one. It was only early since he started drinking himself, first stealing from his father but then moving on to bigger stores. He was thought of as "Unfit to be a good soldier", and most thought of him as a disgrace, because of the big bunch of dirty things he had done to once more gain that good feeling.

He was 38 years old, not yet even an adult, when he was caught and jailed. He was there for five years, but he had to get away at some point. He was clear for a while, they even started his training to be a soldier, as his father had wanted.

But then he met a woman of his age, in a bar. The two started talking, and instantly fell in love. They hastily, after a few months, got married. They hadn't really talked about deeper things than hair color, but that they did notice after their first fight. And the second. The third, too, off course.

This continued until something horrific happened. There was a fight, about Bofvirs drinking. And in the middle, Humvirs hand grasped a knife, which he later used to stab the woman. Many times. He was blinded by rage at the moment. By this time he was 45 years old.

He fled his home, without telling anyone. He managed to get out of the city, with no one noticing, as he hid his wifes body in to a closet. The searches had started later, as he was no where to be found any longer.

He fled to the lands of Dun Morogh, in to the forest. He had a tent there, in a highly hidden place between three pines. He hunted for food, which at first failed quite a bit, but then he learned to succeed through failure.

He lived in the cold there for a long time. It finally became a habit for him, he'd not seen any people in five years, when a paladin passed by, and saw him talking to a roasted bunny.

The paladin had a good will, he came to Bofvir talking about the Light, and how it could help him. He decided to take Bofvir as his squire, after a long day of talk, Bofvir was highly intrigued by this, and he was excited to serve the paladin. For seven years he learned about the ways of the light, paladinhood and humbleness.

He knew what await him, when he was 57 years old, he would also be as his saviour. He hadn't drunk in twelve years. He would not drink anymore, ever, he decided. He also changed the name his old name. He was now Bofvir. Bofvir Hammerhood. It was to represent the changes he had done in life.

Years rolled, Bofvir became a paladin, and was given proper training. He was almost a proper soldier, taking the side of the Bronzebeard. He was also taught of the dwarven history, and all things useful.

He was 63 years old, when had his first squire. The squires name was Haf, and Haf finished his squire training when Bofvir was 70 years old. Haf was like a son to Bofvir, which he never had. They have been friends ever since.

84 years old, Bofvir fell to alcohol again. But he only tasted a small sip, as he realized it tasted horrible, and he quit. Again. He has always been picked on about the fact that he didn't drink, except for the times he did, off course. But he made it through it, even nowadays there are people to pick on him, but he does not care of their opinions still.

Bofvir was never the strongest to wield the abilities of the paladin, no, he was propably the worst. But where he had no talent, he made it up with hard work and study.

87 years, he started training another squire. They became friends, too.

He was now in a good position in life, he had friends, and a place to live. He was happy. For this time he lived travelling, teaching and enjoying life.

As he turned 153, the second war started. They were called to battle, both his squires to the front-line, but Bofvir was kept in a defensive position. Both of his squires died, but he did not, and he regret he had ever trained them, and blamed himself for their deaths. He decided he was not a proper paladin. That he was not close enough to the Light. He caught a ride to Northrend, by an expedition going there.

Once he was there, he once again isolated himself in an encampment. He left his armor and money to the encampment. He only took a robe and a spear with him. He found a place to stay, there, he prayed every night, hunted his own food, as isolated and poor as possible. Many times he thought he spoke to the Light. Off course, he did not, his isolation drew him half-insane. He survived there for 15 years, and he thought that his life once again had a meaning, as he had not died. He went back to the camp of the expedition, but he noticed his armor had been taken, and there was nothing left of the place.

He was not angry. They probably needed them more than he did.

Luckily, he managed to gain a ride back with a gnomish expedition, which had taken a beating in the Northrend. He helped them, by healing, praying and rising morale.

He was now 169 years old. He was again living in the peaceful Ironforge. This time he had no friends, but he befriended quickly, and gained many paladin and non-paladin friends. His belief in the Light was now stronger than ever.

But now he felt he was not doing enough for his pleasure, he started searching for a place or a group who would do good, realizing that he could not do anything great alone.