Barsos Ironhide

''Not much is relatively known about this Dwarf aside from his status as a Knight of the Ebon Blade. ''

Except, you know, that he destroyed a titanic robot created by a High Elven engineer by stuffing the arm cannon with a pair of Light-infused panties fired from an arcane ballistae.

True story. Sargeant Barsos Ironhide, proud risen member of the Ebon Blade and willing 'bodyguard' to Bakuzan Burlycloud of the Four Winds, can be found wherever there are patrons of the Light to harass, women and children to impose terror upon, and men whose skulls need denting inward. There is no shortage of rancid body parts that he is willing to throw at bystanders to drive a thickly-accented point home, but when comically awful parlor tricks, disparaging remarks or comparisons to acts performed on rancid Scourge corpses leave his conversational partner unfazed, Barsos is not afraid to start an all-out brawl - friendly fire encouraged - anywhere from the Cathedral of the Holy Light to the thick of Tanaan Jungle itself.

Barsos is of venerable age, even for a risen Knight, but he carries himself with an unmistakable youthful gait - even going as far as skipping along happily when reveling in pain and destruction wrought. It's best to give him and his charges a wide berth, especially on the battlefield, when he's in prime form - his unholy attributes combined with traditional Dwarven physiology and hardiness make Barsos nigh-indestructible by conventional means.

Physical Description
A suit of saronite armor he did wear, inscribed with a plethora of faintly glowing runes, each serving an individual purpose; a tattered tabard bearing the colors of the Ebon Blade draped across his stout frame. He wielded an ominous looking runeblade, with an overall design verging on draconic - you could've sworn that the eye mounted on the hilt of blade just blinked at you.

Barsos stands several inches above the average normal Dwarf, and with an equally-heavyset build; monstrous hands mated to equally impressive feet to set the stage for easily one of the most indomitable looking Dwarves you've ever witnessed. He lacks the gut most of his kin take to owning, his physique instead a canvas of unholy muscle strung together by unholy magics.

For whatever reason should his spiked helmet be removed and his visage exposed could one come to find his skin is akin to that damaged by eternal frostbite, black and silver with considerable bruising. Rounded features universal of his race accentuated the broad frame; a wide set nose framed by eyes blazing with lichfire in varying telling colors universal to his brothers and sisters in death.

Recent events have left the Dwarf stripped of his considerable locks of hair, and as such he has directed all earthly concerns to his beard; it having been dyed a bright pink after having been attended to by a young girl.

Personality Traits
Speaks often in blunt phrases laced with vulgarities; Barsos is not one to pontificate behind words to spare feelings, no matter what situation or setting he might find himself or members of the Company. Extremely trigger-happy with his blade or his fists. Pragmatic; annoyingly so to those that know when he's in the right, especially if it's not what they want to hear. Unforgiving and ruthless to those that slight him, but sporadically kind to those on his good side; women are especially prone, when they're not being given 'compliments' about their anatomies.

Barsos holds the rank and file of the Ebon Blade close to his heart, and will not hesitate to launch into diatribes against those slighting or disparaging the sacrifices said fellow Knights have made. A Death Knight with a rank above his own is one of Barsos' few innate weaknesses; where ninety-nine mortals will shove against him in vain, one Commander will pull, and Barsos will yield, unquestioningly.

Years of life and unlife both have given Barsos insight to the innermost mindsets of most mortals, and as such he can very easily sniff out when he's being misled. He does not like being misled. Do not attempt.

When idle, Barsos can be seen scratching lazily at his chest or beard, seemingly indifferent to his surroundings, but the opposite couldn't be more true; his countenance hides a cold, calculating and methodical mind, always looking for the easiest way through the closest person's sternum; content with mentally projecting an image of skipping rope with their freshly-severed spinal cord.