Hrothgar Khazdural
The Last Son of Karak Dûr
Time has done little to temper the fire that burns within Hrothgar Khazdural, the grizzled and battle-worn leader of the shattered Khazdural Clan. Once a warrior of Karak Dûr, he now stands as one of the last living dwarves to have drawn breath in the hold before its fall, carrying the weight of memory and loss upon his broad, scarred shoulders. His white mane, long and unkempt, flows like the remnants of a once-proud banner, his face lined with the years of war, grief, and unrelenting determination. A deep scar crosses his face, running from his forehead to his cheek, splitting the hollow where his left eye once was—now filled with a fire opal, a solemn tribute to his lost home and a constant reminder of what was stolen. His left hand is gone at the wrist, severed in the desperate retreat from Dûrthar Chasm, another price paid in blood for the survival of his kin.
Though the fall of Karak Dûr was over two centuries past, Hrothgar has never truly left it behind. The songs of his ancestors still echo in his heart, the weight of unclaimed gold and broken oaths pressing heavy upon him. While many of his kin scattered and faded into other dwarven holds, resigned to the loss, Hrothgar has spent the long years rallying those who would listen, gathering what remains of the Khazdural bloodline, seeking to one day march upon the ruins and drive out whatever horrors now infest the halls of his ancestors. Time has made him cynical, bitter, but unyielding, a warrior who refuses to let his people fade into obscurity. Even now, old as he is, he walks with a great axe strapped across his back, his presence heavy with the quiet authority of a king without a throne, a warrior without a kingdom.
To many, he is a relic of a lost age, a fool clinging to a ruin that should be left to the ghosts. But to those who still whisper the name Karak Dûr with reverence, he is something more—a last chance to reclaim what was lost, a stubborn ember in the ashes, waiting for the wind to bring it to flame once more.
Physical Description
General Physical Condition
Though the years have weighed heavy upon Hrothgar Khazdural, they have not broken him. He stands as a testament to dwarven endurance, his body still broad and unyielding despite the toll of age and war. His once-powerful frame, though marked by time, remains formidable, with thick, corded muscles beneath his battle-worn leathers. His skin is rough and weathered like ancient stone, a living record of countless battles, with deep scars tracing across his arms and shoulders, each a story of survival. His left hand is gone at the wrist, severed during the retreat from Dûrthar Chasm, and though he has long since adapted to its loss, he refuses the use of a prosthetic, wearing the stump bare as a mark of remembrance. His movements remain steady and deliberate, but there is a stiffness in his joints, a lingering price of old wounds and years spent marching beneath the weight of his burdens.
Hrothgar’s white hair hangs long and untamed, streaked with hints of silver and steel, a mane that speaks to both his age and the wisdom he carries. His beard is thick, braided loosely with iron clasps, though the edges have grown wild, a reflection of the years spent wandering, never truly at rest. His face is a crag of deep-set lines and battle-worn features, with a heavy brow and a gaze that pierces like an axe blade. His most striking feature, however, is the fire opal embedded where his left eye once was, the gemstone gleaming in the light, catching the glow of nearby flames like the embers of a forge. It is both a symbol and a wound, a piece of Karak Dûr he carries with him always, a reminder of all that was lost and the vengeance that still burns in his heart.
Relationships
Current Status
Attempting to restore the Dwarfhold of Karak Dûr
Current Location
Species
Year of Birth
31 BD
253 Years old
Birthplace
Family
Spouses
Vrakka Khazdural
(Wife)
Children
Hair
Long, unkept, white as snow
Height
4'8
Weight
210lbs
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