Tarken Incarum the III
'The Smith' Tarken Incarum (a.k.a. 'Son of the Dark Anvil' 'Wielder of the Darkness')
The sound of the hammer rung out through the many passages of the deep dark beneath the world as Tarken worked furiously upon an anvil that no one had ever scene before with tools that glowed a pale white in the purple light of the bio-luminescent mushrooms that dotted the forge. The dark reddish black flame at the heart of the forge mixing with the natural light in a menage of shadow and crackling.
Crash...Crash...Crash
The hammer cracked down. The stone was black with the heat, deep inside the shape a cherry red soul hidden beneath layers of molten lacquer. The dwarf, old and made of hard granite rock and layered with ancient coal tensed as he dropped the hammer down again. The muscles on his back corded the rock of his skin in cruel ways as he lifted and continued the striking of the anvil. With every crash the anvil, blacker then the darkest night thrummed out with the rhythm.
Ba-dum...Ba-dum...Ba-dum
His heart raced with fury, matching the tireless pounding of his hammer. He could feel the strain numbing his arms; his muscles had pulled so tight they threatened to tear the hard rock flesh. The dwarf could feel the beating in his head. He saw the humans weaving magic that they had never known, he had seen the long inert and thought to be dead malforged return with a new spark of life. The masters had been awoken.
Crash...Crash...Crash
The people of the stone had to be spared. They would deeper and darker then ever before if they had to, but they would not be slaves again. Once more the hammer fell with a crash against the anvil, sparks of brilliant violet cut at his rocky flesh causing small black wounds. He would let his people taste freedom. He would free them from the fear.
Ba-dum...Ba-dum...Ba-dum
His hammer froze in mid-swing as the throbbing of his heart resonated with the product he had been working. Blood and sweat fell from his brow onto the hammer he had forged; evaporating against the black hot metal with a silent hiss. The blood and sweat made the hammer head grow with a throbbing green light that began to fill the room. He licked his lips to moisten them and forced himself to blink hard as his hand crept to the haft of the weapon. He tried with all his might to lift the hammer; it felt like it weighed as much as a sun. His arms strained as her grunted the weapon up from the anvil, once free it carried him back perfectly fighting into his hands the weight perfectly balanced. He felt the throbbing now in his hands as much as it was in his mind and heart.
The sounds of foot steps approaching from outside of the forge reached him over the sound of his own heart and the throbbing of the weapon in his hands. It was the first sound he had heard in days, suddenly the exhaustion hit him and he began to fall. As if moving of it's own the weapon swung down to stabilize him. Steadied against the haft of the weapon he shiver in the hunger and thirst.
Ba-dum...Ba-dum...Ba-dum
Tarken could not make out who had come into the forge calling his name.
"The malforged they're..." The voice started before they saw the forge and the smith in front of them. How long had he been inside the dark halls? How long had he worked. The anvil had needed to be made to survive the construction of the metal, the metal had to be worked and shaped, a mold had needed to be made. The list ran over his mind over and over as the past weeks began to blur into reality. The dwarf, a young woman with skin of dark asphalt ran to aid him. She threw his arm around her strong shoulders to help support him. He felt his legs grown at the relief, but all he could focus on was the throbbing of the hammer in his hand.
"It's alright..." He gasped through parched lips as the woman began to drag him out of the forge. His left hand clutched onto the haft of the weapons so tight that he bled; the blood making the green glow of the tool spark and flash. "We have nothing to fear any more..."
Physical Description
General Physical Condition
Tarken was a typical dwarf, strong, stout and forged of dark granite and coal.
Body Features
His hair was gray mottled with black (a mixture of granite and coal) with hair that looked like rows of mottled asphalt.
Facial Features
Tarken's eyebrows were heavy set and his eyes themselves were a piercing blue.
Identifying Characteristics
Tarken always wore a smithy's leather overall set, and had a scar above his right eye in the shape of a 'U' that cut through the eyebrow. He received this from a Malforged master in his youth when he intentionally sabotaged one of their machines.
Physical quirks
rubbing his hands with his thumbs when he has nothing to work on and his anxiety is beginning to rise.
Specialized Equipment
'The Darkness' a powerful hammer forged of a unique alloy.
He also fought with a wide shield of steel lined in obsidian known as the Dark Sun. It would absorb light and cast no reflection unless the wielder wished it.
Mental characteristics
Personal history
Born in 2e75, Tarken the III was the second son in the Incarum family within his generation. His father would go on to bud three more children over the course of his five hundred year life cycle, two more sons and a daughter.
He grew up in the heart of Riffleheim as one of the children of a powerful noble under the malforged rule. He was well into adulthood when the 3e struck with the calamity that eradicate the malforged slave drivers. While under the influence of the Malforged he became regarded as an excellent miner and smith; sought after by the strongest of Malforged generals to work and crafts on their machinery, even going so far as to have the dwarf make their weapons for them (a practice unheard of among the slave races) .
After the fall of the Malforge and the liberation of his people, Tarken accepted his role as an advisor to the King with the death of his father twenty years prior, and his eldest brother ten years after that.
In this position Tarken became even more famous in his craft, becoming an adventurer who led the dwarves deep into the earth, discovering the race of the dark elves and the deep goblins. He was a hero of their people and known as an outfitter who would arm and armor any soldier who could bring him either honest earned coin or the material needed for his work. Earning himself the title 'The Smith' in 3e98.
In 3e289 well after the 'prime' of his life, the humans and elves discovered arcane magic and the malforged began to be awakened by their tampering. Fearing what this would mean for his kin he forged an anvil in secret stronger than any other, in a forge fed by magma deep beneath the crust. In this forge he worked a piece of a meteor he had reclaimed in the year 3e2 into the weapon 'Isharakr' or 'The Darkness'.
He would wield this weapon in many battles with the monsters of the underdark and the armies of the Deep Goblins as his people headed deeper underground to seek amnesty from their revived masters. This ended in 3e299 when a crossbow bolt tipped with a paralytic poison pierced his knee and robbed him the use of his right leg.
He passed the 'Darkness' on to his second Daughter, Doshta Incarum the First.
The Smith retired to the king's palace where he served as an aged advisor and wiseman until his death in the shattering of 4e1.
Gender Identity
Tarken identified as a 'Smith' and never had a predication for either gender.
Sexuality
Tarken was asexual, baring each of his four children alone.
Education
-NA-
Employment
Smithy for the Dwarven People, Advisor to the King and aged sage.
Accomplishments & Achievements
Lead explorer of the third exploration division. Discoverer of the Dark Elven Queendom of Nyarlotheranten. 'The Smith'. Forger of the Darkness. Hulk's Bane.
Failures & Embarrassments
The crippling of his knee that robbed him of his mobility prevented him from using the Weapon 'The Darkness' for its intended purpose.
-SEE SECRET-
Mental Trauma
Due to the first decades of his life being under the reign of the Malforged, Tarken has a deep seated hatred and fear for them. They worked his father near to death and paraded him from city to city, ship to ship to make their repairs and craft weapons for them. Forging became an act of freedom for himself, a celebration that he no longer made what he was told to, but was free to do as he pleased. If he went extended periods of time with nothing to work on he would fall into a deep depression.
Intellectual Characteristics
Logical and wise, Tarken would consider everything four times before speaking once. He believed in a calculated approach to all things, unless it directly involved life or death decisions. He believed prioritizing saving as many people of his own kind as possible as the right decision in such cases.
Personality Characteristics
Motivation
To protect his people and save as many of them as he can.
Likes & Dislikes
Tarken was a big fan of the color black and of ravens. He found the birds majestic and in his youth would always feed them wherever he saw them. Dislikes the color red and snow.
Virtues & Personality perks
Patient like a saint.
Vices & Personality flaws
Xenophobic, Anxious, and often times paranoid.
Social
Contacts & Relations
He was a close friend to the king, and a stalwart protector of his reign.
Family Ties
Tarken had four children, three daughters and a son.
Religious Views
Tarken viewed the earth, the rock and stone, as a sacred thing that could speak to the dwarves and gnomes on a level that no others could. He would say in his later life that creating Isharakr was one of the few times in his life where he felt the presence of something more attempting to stop him from an action.
Social Aptitude
Tarken was awful with people, far too gruff and honest, but it carried with it a natural charm.
Wealth & Financial state
Tarken had little value in money (all money earned in Smithing was given either to his children or the crown), and he was never want for anything. Anything the Smith could want his people would provide as he had provided them.
Current Location
Species
Honorary & Occupational Titles
The Smith
Birthplace
Rifflehiem
Children
Gender
Dwarf
Eyes
Coal black and narrow
Hair
many rows of hard granite and coal
Height
4'11
Weight
275 lbs
Quotes & Catchphrases
The stone ain't gonna move itself.
Character Prototype
Idris Elba (in my dreams haha)
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