Read my dorfs description. I look like a biker/metal fan with preference for stronger drinks. Now immagine my dorf on a motocycle with black leather jacket, epic beard and mustache and all that. Stats fit my story role almost perfectly. As an ageless crature, im kinda suposed to have calm demanor and good mind. Only thing off would be healing speed, as shapeshifters should heal rather quickly. I'll just write this off to overdoing with all the blending in.
Thank Armok for making dwarves so very afraid of being forgotten. From lowest beggars to highest kings, everyone caries a journal and writes about their whole life in it. Those who can’t write draw their lives as well as they can. They all do it for sole reason being that if they happen to die alone, anyone who wanders up to their corpse could know who exactly died right here. This silly trait of theirs has saved my skin today.
I thought unusual for a book to be in a battlefield, so I picked it up to investigate it’s contents. It turned out to be a diary of sorts, belonging to dwarf I just ate. Few pages in, I noticed a very important detail, something that you really wouldn’t expect from a looter. A wife. After swallowing down a torrent of curses, I focused on reading further. Turns out she is really good at shooting crossbow. Crap. She also is good at taming animals. To train animals you need to be good at noticing body language, something that I had almost no hope of mimicking convincingly alike to her ex-husband. All the more reason to join those dwarves going far away from here. Depending on how you look at this, It was either my luckiest day, or the most misfortunate one.
After a few phrases with the dwarven group, I found out that they were going to build a new fortress somewhere close to dynasauri lands. It was even better than I expected. I thought that they were merchants, doing their yearly trip around towns, but a new fortress meant that I could get out of here for good. And then she came. My “better side” had been drawn to all this commotion. Her keen marksman eyes selected me out of the crowd. “Hey, Urist! Urist, over here” My heart fell through my stomach. I knew she was calling me, because my “beloved’s” description in Urists diary matched her perfectly all the way to earrings she was wearing. Her name, according to same source was Tiger. Strange name for a dwarf, I had even initially assumed it was a nickname, but I found no other name meant for her, so I responded with that. “Coming Tiger, hold on a just a second.” As soon as I got through a small crowd gathered to watch settlers leaving, she grabed me in a hug that could rival a bear. “Trying to run away from me with these travelers, were you Urist?” she said jokingly. “Well it’s not going to work. Who are they, by the way” After explaining to her that they were settlers going to build a new fortress next to dynasauri and human lands, I chose the only remaining course of action that could result in getting out of this city. I invited her to go with me. “Join a official fortress? You were a city dwarf all your life Urist, and so was I. Besides, we are not very skilled in crafts of any sort. You are a good mason, but that is not as popular a profession as it used to be. And I train animals that only rich and stupid are interested in.” Those were fine arguments, but I had my own. “But that’s exactly it! Masonry is still needed for construction, and this is a new fortress, building will be abundant. And you could train animals for war, I have seen that tiger you trained for that old hunter. Besides, this fortress is going to be built on borders of humans and dynasauri, in a middle of violet xylocy raiding zone. Extra militia will certainly be handy. We could even make a name for ourselves as heroes, great and wealthy defenders. This is our chance.” She was reluctant to leave her native town, but prospect of wealth and glory tempted her. In the end, since I hadn’t asked caravan leader (some guy with a fancy emerald ring) if he would even allow me to join his party, we decided to go if he would let us. Luckly for me, he was considering hiring some guards to help protect large number of civilians going with him. Once we informed him that we were capable fighters, we were instantly allowed to join, and even offered a beer for the occasion. I like flounder, or, if possible to get, rum, but I didn’t mind beer one bit. Now the only matter was to change my name in a way that Tiger wouldn’t get suspicious. Divine intervention sounds good. I know how to fake temporary madness and fever quite well.