Burbon Hardclaw

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Mecha Crow
Posts: 5
Joined: Tue Feb 06, 2018 1:10 pm
Location: My Own little world.

Burbon Hardclaw

Post by Mecha Crow » Tue Feb 06, 2018 4:25 pm



Name: Burbon Hardclaw.

Age: 36 years old

Sex: Male

Race: Were-Bear

Human: 6 foot 6 inches (198.12 cm)
Beast: 8 foot 4 inches (254 cm)

Human: 230 lbs.
Beast: 380 lbs.

A bulky man, his body formed by training in his craft. His skin is tough and leathery from the exposure of his forge and flames, his hands calloused rough from wielding his tools and his musculature shows his strength with the corded muscle all over hi body. When ever his skin is exposed it is covered in coarse, brown hair on his chest, forearms, back, and legs. the hair curling on his head is a peppering dark brown and grey, his beard showing more grey than brown. The thing that gives him away of being not human is the haunting, pale-green color of his eyes.

The inner beast is seen as a terrifying thing. When called forth his bestial form is that of a monstrous brown bear, towering over the human it once was as he is over come with the rage that has driven him into the state.

Personality: Burbon lives by the idea of actions speaking louder than words. He tends to be soft spoken and stoic in front of others due to duality of his mind making him have a no nonsense outlook. Despite this stoic appearance he has a soft spot for animals; feeling more attuned to other beasts of the wild than man. He is dedicated to his work and will meet due dates for any of his order from sharpening farm/mining tools to creating fantastic pieces of armor and weapons. If you ask him to work with silver, he charges extra.


Shape-shifting (Bear form): Once a day, twice if there is a full moon out, he can induce a rage state where he can change into his Were-Bear form boosting his physical strength. If willingly induced he has basic control of the form, but if forced by the full moan he will enter a frenzy state and will attack anything that poses a threat or contradicts his basic instincts. Don't Poke the Bear. Being what he is, he is weak to silver and cold-iron like fairies.

Blacksmithing: creating and repairing tools, armor, and weapons if he has the materials.
Foraging: Able to scrounge and hunt for his needs in the wild.
Mining: can mine for his materials if needed.
Commerce: Crafting is his trade and he knows its value to people.
Single handed weapons (Hammers/Axes): Working with a hammer all the time, you learn how to defend yourself with it.
Unarmed combat: when you work with your hands and they can turn into claws, you can use that to your advantage.
Conversing with Animals: they might not speak the tongue of man, but he can communicate with it. it's an animal thing, ya' know?

Blacksmithing Tools: needed to do his trade.
Clothes: Basic civilian wear with a thick leather apron and gloves.
Weapons: Battle-hammer, and a heavy crossbow.


Burbon Hardclaw comes from a tribe of mountain folk that have the touch of the bear. Like most members of the tribe he experienced his first transformation at 8 and was expected to take the path of the hunter. He was decent at the way of the hunt but his heart wasn't in it like the rest. it was when he was taken along to the grand market and heard the ring of metal upon metal and the roar of the bellows that he found what called to him. It took the elder of his tribe but he was allowed to take up an apprenticeship under one of the blacksmiths to learn his trade. He spent years learning the techniques and poured his attention on diagrams and instructions on different metals.

When he reach Adulthood he had to make a choice, either he leaves his passion of the forge or stay with his tribe where he would have the support of his people. He had to follow his heart kept it close to the fire of the forge. He was exiled from the tribe but they were happy that he was able to find his path out among the city walls. Giving up the Name of his tribe he took up the name Hardclaw to signify his new start to his life among the people of this so call civilized city.

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Re: Burbon Hardclaw

Post by Annasiel » Tue Feb 06, 2018 5:11 pm

Alone she drifts from ancient mists
Nary a candle, nary a wish
But in the wont of wandering paths
Through wooded knolls, and windworn crags
She seeks a face she thought as friend
But now -- she thinks as judgement's end

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