"Even the hardest steel will yield for the Smith."
Even among his Xaelan peers, notorious for their great sizes and intimidating appearances, Enkhjargal is a giant. As if a length of well over seven fulms wasn't enough, the aging man is an enormous knot of muscle formed through many years of hard labour. Indeed, in size he can compete with the burliest of Roegadyn. By no means a handsome man, his face seems hewn from course stone. Jagged features accentuated by dark scales and deep-set eyes like glowing embers. His skin is a deep, dark red shade, characteristic of the Angura tribe and a point of great pride to the man. His age is starting to show, however. Nearing forty cycles, his face is deeply grooved with wrinkles, especially around his forehead as he tends to scowl quite heavily.
He gained his physique not from rigorous training or withstanding the harsh environs of his home, though they did contribute to it. Nay, his monstrous size was garnered from him being a Blacksmith. In fact, he was The Blacksmith for the tribe of Angura. Always having mined, carried, forged and delivered all the steel the tribe needed.
Enkhjargal was born into the Angura tribe in the middle of winter. Such was a poor omen for a child, as the Angura live in the high mountains of northeastern Othard, and the harsh winters spell death for all but the most well prepared survivors. Nonetheless, the child saw the winter through to it's end and lived longer than many Xaela can claim. After seeing five summers he was apprenticed to the Blacksmith before him, and taught the ways of the trade. He took to it quickly, and in the years that passed became more skillful a smith than his master could have hoped. This, however, had it's downsides. As blacksmithing is a profession that is nigh-impossible to perform in a nomadic troupe, he was bound to caves to work his craft. Several such caves existed around the mountainous areas, and between seasons he'd migrate along with one of the passing clans to the next one. That did however mean that he spent the vast majority of his time alone.
It is due to this, that despite his age he has yet to sire children. Occasionally the clans would ask one of their young women to stay with him for a period of time, in the hope that he'd send her back with child. This never came to be, and more often than not he dismissed their presence in his smithy after several days, as they got in the way of his work. He was perfectly fine living by himself, until the Doman rebellion spurred the Garlean Legions into action. One of their patrols came upon his cavern, and they managed to capture him as he slept. Being far too heavy to move, however, they chained him to his own anvil and forced him to craft weapons for their use against his people. As a warning to not resist, they cut off his tail, and coursely so. All that remains now is a scarred stump, which he keeps covered with a metal prosthesis.
He eventually managed to free himself and kill his captors, taking his most important belongings and leaving. With a heavy heart and heavier backpack he travelled around Othard for a while, meeting many tribes and peoples, but never finding anywhere to settle. He eventually caught a boat to Eorzea, learned some Eorzean from the sailors in the months-lasting journey and finally set foot in Limsa Lominsa. From there he continued to wander, first through La Noscea and then into Thanalan, where he nearly died from heat stroke. He was saved by members of a free company known at the time as Kindred. By tradition among his tribe, he owed them his life and thus signed with the company, properly starting his life in Eorzea.
He can be described as generally gruff. If he doesn't or hardly knows someone he'll be very short with them and offer little in the way of conversation material. However, once one gets to know him and manages to get on his good side, he's a friend that will go through fire for someone. His monstrous constitution and strength make him a valuable ally, and his skill at the anvil even moreso.
- Simple people.
- Hard, heavy work.
- Cold climates.
- Confined spaces.
- People that talk too much.
- People that are careless with their weapons and armour.
- Complicated words.
Monstrous Strength Years of heavy work have left the man with peerless strength, capable of lifting his anvil with relative ease. His weapon of choice is an enormous axe, the head of which is the size of an average Miqo'te male. If you ever need heavy lifting work done, give him a shout and he'll carry all you want and a bit more.
Hardy Constitution. He lived in a harsh place, surrounded by snow and ice, thin mountain air and vicious beasts more often than not hungry enough to attack anything in sight. His survival insticts are strong and he has the sheer endurance to back them up.
Masterful Blacksmith He has worked at his craft for nigh-on thirty five cycles, and created everything from cutlery to manacles and from daggers to greataxes. On top of that he has skill in leatherworking and armourcrafting, often combining thick leather and hide with steel reinforcement.
Fierce Combatant Though he is certainly no master at the arts of battle, his strength and primal ferocity make him an intimidating opponent nonetheless. Wielding his axe, he'll send wide, crushing swings forward one after the other, his axe being generally too have to deflect with your average shield. For swords he generally picks heavier single-edged hacking blades, which he wields without an off-hand sidearm. This allows him to weave punches and grabs into his attacks as well. Finally, he is quite terrifying with his pickaxe, which has the pick on one side and a heavy hammerhead on the other. Particularly adept at prying apart heavy armour, with that weapon.
Hammer throwing Having quite some experience swinging about a variety of hammers for his trade, he's learned the balance and weight of each one so thoroughly he can employ them quite effectively as thrown weapons. He is quite prone to applying this technique on rude customers and thiefs.
Night Blind. Years of staring into glowing cinders in dark spaces have left his eyes damaged. Even on clear nights he can make out little more than silhouettes, and on clouded nights he might as well be blind.
Quotes and rumors.
Players may feel free to add anything they want here, though i reserve the right to remove anything inappropriate or misplaced.