| Master Blacksmith|
Smitty Smith VIII
(470 - )
|Father||Smitty Smith VII|
|Common and Dwarven|
|“||We don't fuck around.||”|
|— Smiths' family motto, engraved on sign over front door to "Smith's Smithing".|
The Smiths carry a proud lineage, claiming to be able to trace it back to a Dwarven ancestor via one-night-stand. This is what supposedly give them their Dwarf-esque facial hair, attitude, and smithing skills. However, it fails horribly at explaining their stature. They claim that with their lineage and a slightly altered Dwarven diet, any Smith is sure to be a massive man. They also claim to be predispositioned to creating sons, as every female Smith has become one via marriage.
Smitty VIII, is a gentle giant, capable of ruining a sword with his bare hands, yet caring enough to pamper his loving wife. Born and raised in Nitawa, Smitty had learned blacksmithing at a young age. Other than creating and mending incredible weapons for the town guard, his life was quite uneventful. However, in the year 501 AL, Franz Guiriale laid down tyrannically high taxes, which most of the people couldn't afford. Smitty had been paid for his services with mostly supplies rather than gold, as he prefered it. However, this left him with too little to pay the ridiculous taxes. On the day the guards came to arrest him, he fought his way to Guiriale and without killing anyone, avoided arrest and injury. Dressed in no protection aside from his commmon clothes and smithing apron, Smitty freed the town from Guiriale and became a hero.
Smitty stands at 6'8" and weighs approximately 300 lbs from mostly muscle. His beard and body hair resemble that of a Dwarf.