Board Thread:Fun and Games/@comment-25344655-20141102040650/@comment-25344655-20141102041054

title = Glosur the Smith armor = Mithril-infused armor

faction = Dwarves of the White Mountains

realms = White Mountains, Southern Misty Mountains, Grey Mountains

race = Dwarf

culture = Dwarf

gender = Male

WARNING: LONG POST AHEAD, I WAS LAZY AND I JUST COPIED MY PROFILE

I by my elvish name, Glosur son of Renus. A Dwarf of the White Mountains and king of Kheled-Arnin, a fortress deep beneath the southern White Mountains that split Gondor and Rohan, I settled in the area just after the war of the ring to aid Gondor whenever it needs. I am allied with Gondor and Rohan as I live so close to them. I sent an army of 600 dwarves to aid the Longbeards of Erebor and the Iron Hills to help reclaim Khazad-Dum. I honestly have little enemies other than Mordor, but we don't have the best relations with Harad. I am renowned in the Fourth age as Glosur the Smith, as I make great weaponry making weapons and Armor for all the free peoples of Middle-earth. I am not at war with Mordor, but we are not of great relations with them.

Origins: Most have not heard of me as I did not have any impact on the world until the war of the ring. For years I wandered in Lindon and the Blue Mountains with my brother, Rignus seeking for adventure. My father Renus and my mother Kilir, were very protective of me. We lived on the very southern tip of the blue mountains, away from the small Lindon village we lived near. All was peaceful, we had a decent life with my father mining Iron in the small mine. Until an Orc raid hit the town, Killing almost everyone. Me and Rignus were only a wee small age of 13 then, and our father defended us and our mother until his last breath, clad in the armor that had run in our family for generations. The Orcs stabbed him through the chest, and proceeded to decapitate our mother in front of our very eyes. We ran, we ran and ran until we couldn't run any more. My brother, who was the older, broke down in sorrow. I was just glad we were safe. But an Orc had followed our trail, and he shot an arrow straight through my brothers heart, with such rage inside of me I took my brothers axe and swung it across the beasts chest. His last words were "Your all alone now, Scum!" and fell back on the ground. I was a wanderer, I had no food, little water, and stranded in the fields of Eriador, it wasn't until I was discovered by Rangers was I able to fully recover, I was led by I kind man named Gwaddyn to Hobbiton where I lived most of my days. When I was about 60, the rise in Sauron's power led me to leave the Shire and make for Helm's deep, I figured Rohan would let me stay there for a while as I went back to the village where I was born and retrieved my fathers armor. The armor itself was mostly made of Blue-Dwarf steel but had a very bright Mithril Trimming. I was shocked that when I arrived there was a large gaping hole in the wall and bodies strewn everywhere. It was at this time I decided that I must aid in the defense of Gondor. I set up a Fortress in the white mountains and called upon my kin in the Iron Hills and the small settlements in the Misty Mountains to send a small population and they did. The fortress quicky spread across the mountains and became one of the largest dwarven settlements of the fourth age, just under Erebor and Dain's Halls.