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Matir

Matir
| Name | Matir |
|---|---|
| Status | Active |
| Occupation | Soldier |
| Age | Young |
| Race | Dwarf |
|---|---|
| Residence | 1, Cloven Crescent, Vendóm, Thorin's Gate. |
| Kinship |
| Outward Appearance | Matir's not your broadest Dwarf, nor your tallest. He embodies the average traits all of Durin's Folk share. He's got a nicely trimmed beard and neatly tied hair. He likes to look at his best wherever he goes. |
|---|
Background
Born in the Blue Mountains to a family of miners, Matir's your average Dwarf of Thorin's Hall. He saw first light in the wake of the reclaiming of Erebor, when joy struck the hearts of many Dwarves. His parents had once lived in Erebor, but decided to stay over at the Blue Mountains since little Matir came into being. Matir's proud of his Hall, being of Durin's Folk, he's proud of any Hall of his kin, but he likes his home. He's but in his sixties, young by Dwarven measure, but he's a fierce worker and loyal friend to those who deserve it. Working in the mines, just like his parents did, he grew tired of it and he wanted more. He felt he could offer his Hall more. His father wasn't all against it, but told him to wait a few years and loving Father trained his son in basic combat if they weren't labouring. Then, one day, Colonel Hvaldar of the Blue Mountains Regiment came for him. Matir got told that the Regiment is always looking for both able and willing Dwarrows! Honoured as he was, Matir felt this was it and he accepted. He is now a Recruit among the ranks of The Blue Mountains Regiment. Since he lived through the Dourhand tiranny before Dwalin came from Erebor, he holds no love for those foul cousins of his folk, for him they are as mean as many Goblin.
| Friends | They know. |
|---|---|
| Relatives | Father and Mother in Ered Luin |
| Rivals/Enemies | Servants of Evil |
| Loves | Food, ale and tale! |
|---|---|
| Hates | Anything opposing his Hall! |
| Motivation | To serve his Hall. |
| Quotes | 'My, my..." |
