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Cairnsmith, awesomely piledriving a jormungar from low orbit.

Player: rentreality

Character Full Name: Cadmael Cairnsmith

Character In-Game Name: Cairnsmith

Nickname(s): Cad

Association(s): Ironforge, the Explorer's League

Race: Dwarf

Class: Warrior

Age: 141

Sex: Male

Hair: Red-Orange

Eyes: Blue

Weight: 219 lbs

Height: 5'


With the way he dresses, it is not uncommon for individuals to mistake Cairnsmith for one of the ubiquitous Ironforge mountaineers when they first stumble on him in the deep drifts of Dun Morogh. It's likely he prefers it this way.

Other: A cigar, the exact size and shape of your mother's fist, is jacked firmly -- one could almost say permanently -- into the corner of his mouth.


Alignment: Neutral Good

The accepted view of Cadmael Cairnsmith among acquaintances is unanimous: the hill dwarf houses a inherent, quiet strength of will and an innate charm as warm as his beard.

One could say that, like fine wine, age has ripened the dwarf. The decades of time Cadmael has enjoyed -- a length already fast approaching double that of an entire human life-span -- has served to grant him a rich appreciation for the finer things. The harsh lessons of life prove that in the end, good company, good conversation, and good food and drink are truly a man's best friend.


The dwarf grinned craftily at the human over the edge of the pint, his teeth a mess of yellow enamel and black rot. There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye. His cheeks were flushed, but whether it was from the alcohol or the cold was impossible to tell. "I've seen things, lad, in my years. Things like yeh wouldn' believe. Alliance warships afire off the shoulder o' Menethil, burnin' with dragonfire. I've watched magical energy cracklin' through th'air, beams o' it glitterin' in the dark near Ironforge Gate. Och, and yeh call wot yer foightin' now a war!"

The world has changed since Cadmael Cairnsmith was born, for better or worse. Wars have come like the succession of waves at the shore, been fought, been won or lost. Kingdoms have fallen into shadow and ruin, only to rise again from their ashes like the phoenix. Cadmael shed his share of blood in the wars, and watched as the cities rebuilt, but time marches onwards, as they say, an implacable juggernaut. The dust of ages softens and covers, burying the relics of the past as a time capsule -- a glimpse into the world of the ancients, a window into the days of yore.

The crowd roared and surged forward like one living organism as the torch was lifted, the flame spluttering a violent, unmistakable green over the entrance to the massive guildhall of the Explorer's League. The young dwarf -- third in line in the hierarchy of his family -- gritted his teeth, forcing a path forward, elbowing his way through the press with urgent fervor. He shouted at the proctors, calling to them in multiple languages, desperately seeking their attention, hoping against hope that his name would be called.

There can be little doubt that, in many ways, it is the seductive promise of this knowledge of the past and its secrets that leads a dwarf to pursue a career in the Explorer's League. For Cairnsmith, the idea of exploration is not so much a job as it is a passion, and there is little in the world that could delight him more than the pursuit of it. His participation as a soldier in the Dwarven legions who took part in the great wars of mankind were, to him, at least half an excuse to see the world.

The shock-wave from the explosion hit him right in the gut and set his heart a-flutter. He swallowed thickly in a mouth suddenly dry, forcing down the rush of memories of the war as the dark smoke burst upwards from its heart of flame. The sound came seconds behind, achingly slow -- the rocks were still tumbling from a sky sullied by the reeking cloud of desert dust and gunpowder. His heart leapt as the haze cleared, the form of the Titan ruins already visible.

Discovering the hidden. Uncovering the lost. Those phrases alone can sum up the life story of Cadmael Cairnsmith.

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