Fofin

Player: ToxinDoctor

Character Full Name: Fofin Mathias Proudrune

Character In-Game Name: Fofin

Nickname(s): None

Association(s): Ironforge and the Alliance

Race: Dwarf

Class: Hunter

Age: 142 Years

Sex: Male

Hair: Blonde

Eyes: Blue

Weight: 215 lbs.

Height: 5' 2”

Usual Garments/Armor: Ammunition belts criss-cross the man's frame holding a great number of large iron slugs to be used both for combat and showing off. Often, he might be seen wearing rugged armor made up of a combination of leather and chainmail being light enough to move about in a spry manner but heavy enough to protect him somewhat from other ranged attackers. When he is able to prepare for battle, the dwarf often dons a helm that covers the top of his head and the sides of his face while still allowing the luxury of a greater range of sight.

At all times there is a rifle slung over his back, held there by a leather strap. The weapon's scope lies just above the ridge that extends further along its barrel ending in a notched sight at the end. It's clear to anyone inspecting the gun that its owner takes great care in maintaining it seeing as how the metal gleams when under fair enough light. A large hunting knife also lies sheathed at the man's belt, mostly used for extreme occasions when he is forced into close-combat.

Personality: Taught to always mind his manners, Fofin continues to carry his mother's advice despite how he may be treated while out in the world. He is also one not to start a fight but has no qualms about ending an argument in a gentleman's duel with his fists. It can be said that the dwarf holds no love for members of the opposite faction though through rare circumstances one might break this rule if the dwarf finds an individual who sets themselves apart from the others. He will act kind towards most strangers though suspicion will not leave him until he knows the person better.

To those whom he does share a closer relationship with, he treats said people with respect and offers up a bond of loyalty that endures much like the stubbornness of his folk. The hunter would sooner die for a friend or avenge them immediately than see one fall, a mindset that is bound to land him on a funeral pyre at one point or another. In addition to his stead-fast loyalty, the dwarf has an uncanny amount of patience due to his method of fighting. Many times the dwarf has waited for hours in the wilderness, waiting for his prey to wander under the sight of his rifle, only to receive a quick demise a few seconds later.

History: Contrary to the boasts raised by other members of his clan, Fofin has never once questioned that he was anything other than an average, humble Ironforge dwarf. His father was the same way, being a man who made an honest living as a gunsmith whose wife was nothing more than a caring mother who sold baked goods to the townsfolk of Thelsamar every morning at the beginning of the week. A healthy baby boy was born to the couple by the serene waters of the lake that made up a good deal of the lands known as Loch Modan. He was brought into Azeroth during a relatively peaceful time for the dwarves, being a century or so after the War of the Three Hammers.

While growing up, the child seldom played with others save for Flaefin, his younger brother by five years. Often the two would get into arguments over trifling things like who would get the last of the breakfast sausages or who was growing stubble faster than the other. These minor disputes tended to be resolved through fistfights, footraces, or other such boyish things that would distract the young men long enough that they often forgot what they were fighting over in the first place. It might be seen as a shame that they grew apart as the years wore on, eventually reaching the point where either sibling barely acknowledged the other. In truth, this separation was caused by the younger brother's feeling of neglect towards their father. He had shown much more interest in Fofin, who had gained a fascination in firearms as he neared adulthood.

After passing the trials that would allow him to be considered a man among his people, the dwarf took the sharpshooting skills that were taught to him by his dear old dad and enlisted in the Ironforge Military. Among the ranks of the stoic mountaineers of Khaz'Modan, he soon began to find himself immersed in a rugged world that showed him the very meaning of survival. His eyes were honed to be keen as a hawk's and his trigger finger to be as swift as the strike of a serpent. It wasn't long before the call to war was sounded once again and he was soon using his new abilities against the Horde.

During the Second War, he was sent to fight the savage orcs and their allies on a number of fields, starting upon the slopes of Blackrock Mountain before being pushed back through the Badlands, Loch Modan, and eventually Dun Morogh. There in the majestic dwarven mountains, the snow was stained crimson with all that had fallen against the brutality caused by the Horde war-machine. It wasn't long before Fofin found himself holed up behind the walls of Ironforge, caught in the siege against the great city beside his kin and gnomish cousins. For months the rifleman rained lead down upon the waves of orcs, trolls, and ogres that assaulted the capital's walls until the numbers of the enemy dwindled as the Horde requested their assistance in the north.

Once civilians in the city were taken care of, the Alliance forces in the city were soon ordered to pursue their enemy towards the Wetlands. It was in the war-torn marshes that Fofin saw the most action, fighting tooth and nail to halt the enemy's reinforcements. During these blood skirmishes, the dwarf earned himself a reputation for being able to pick off a sizeable number of orcs before his location was found, allowing enough time for ground-troops to effectively cut down the remaining numbers of the opposing unit with less effort. The war, as he knew it, drew to a close after the Horde forces that held the Thandol Span were obliterated. He left those who retreated to the south to be taken care of by the human armies, ending his involvement in the Second War.

Though the man had participated in many more battles afterwards, he felt as if no other compared until he became embroiled in the struggle against the Scourge. For him, the fight started back during the Third War and was revisited after the disputes that arose involving the Anh'Qiraj War and the Alliance's involvement in Outland. The dwarf was more than eager to head to Northrend after the Scourge's second invasion, hoping to end what he considered a nuisance to the world. After months of opposition against the hordes of undead, he found with grim realization that he had underestimated his enemy greatly.

As the War against the Lich King raged on, Fofin found himself growing weary of the group of adventurers he had cast himself in with. It seemed as if the guild found more and more reason to fight amongst each other than they did to battle the true threat that they were faced with at the time. After much deliberation, the rifleman left their ranks and found himself in the good graces of his people, choosing to become a representative of Ironforge in the Argent Tournament. Soon after, the war in Northrend drew to a close as the Lich King fell and the dwarf gladly returned home.

With what peace there is to be found during these times after the war, he now seeks to find pleasant adventure where he can, daring to travel wherever his feet lead him.