Bifur

[cateyes19]

Bifur

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THE BASICS:

Name: Bifur
Age: 159
Gender: Male
Race: Dwarf
Birthplace: Khazad-Dum
Current Location: Bifur grew up in the Blue Mountains with his cousins Bofur and Bombur, and currently he joins them on a quest led by Thorin Oakenshield to reclaim the lost city of Erebor.
Weapon(s): Bifur always carries a knife for close combat and as a practical tool, but in battle his weapon of choice is a large boar spear with which he can stick his enemies.

APPEARANCES:

Facial Appearance: Bifur at first glance appears a bit crazed, and at times he is. He is an older member of the company, and his hair and beard are a striking black laced with white. He has fine braids down the front of his considerable beard, and his hair is unruly and uncombed. He is not given to taking much care of his appearance. His eyes beneath his bushy brows are often distant, as though he is remembering something from the remote past. He does not smile often, but at times Bofur and Bombur are rewarded with a grin, and his temperament has evened as the quest progresses.

Build: Bifur is a dwarf of average height, if a little shorter than Thorin and the descendants of Durin’s Line. His hair usually makes up the difference.

Distinguishing Marks: Bifur has more than his fair share of battle scars, being a risky and raging fighter. The most noticeable is the remnant of an Orcish axe embedded in his forehead, a relic of the Battle of Orcs and Dwarves at Moria. The removal of the blade would have killed him, so it remains in his skull, a reminder of the loss of his kin and his oath of vengeance.

Face Claim: William Kircher

A LITTLE MORE IN-DEPTH:

Personality: Bifur is known for his feisty and rough nature, a characteristic common of the mining dwarves, though he has a gentler side. In battle he is a fierce and loyal fighter, wiling to risk anything to help his kin. When cornered he fights like mad, and hates being captured or held. He dislikes small spaces in general.

Despite their differences in ancestry, Bifur is aggressively loyal to Thorin. Having fought alongside Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin at the Battle of Moria, Bifur readily agrees to accompany Thorin on the quest, though he is not of Durin’s Folk nor ever lived in Erebor. He hopes to see the great halls he heard of in his youth, and he is pleased when Bofur and Bombur choose to come along. His cousins took care of him after he received his wound and he looks on them with great love.

The axe in his forehead altered his personality, though not as much as might be expected. His sensitive side was buried, though strangely he became a vegetarian. He was always spirited, but became more aggressively so. He also became quite forgetful, and because he lost the ability to speak in the Common Tongue, and can only speak in Khuzdul, he is easily frustrated. He is quick to pick a fight and slow to calm down, but finds a measure of peace in the company of Thorin and the other dwarves.

Unfortunately, because of his language barrier, when in the dwelling places of men and elves Bifur must always be accompanied by another dwarf. This is usually Bofur or Bombur, though at times other members of the company keep an eye on him.

****(( (Author's Note: Because of the difficulties of Bifur's language barrier, and my own incomplete knowledge of Khuzdul, all of Bifur's dialogue will be translated into the Common Tongue. I don't want to god-play, so I want to discuss all the details with Bofur and Bombur when we have someone to play those characters.) ))

History: Bifur was born in Khazad-Dum, but left the mines with his family at a young age to settle in the Blue Mountains. There he grew up in close association with his cousins Bofur and Bombur. He was taught to fight at a young age, and reveled in the mastery of the sword and the spear. His preferred weapon was the axe, a favourite amongst dwarves, and was gifted with a fine axe when he first grew his beard. He also loved stories, tales told of the great halls of Erebor and the mighty dragon Smaug. In the time of peace Bifur discovered another passion, that of toy-making. He learned the trade, and made many delightful things for the dwarflings of the Blue Mountain tribes. He had hopes of one day building his own family, and had his sights set on a young dwarfish maiden by the name of Claeryan, a daughter of the dwarves of Erebor.

But it was not to be. Thror was murdered on the steps of Moria, and a call to war was issued throughout the mountains. Eager to prove his strength and skill, and test his axe in battle, Bifur answered the summons alongside Thorin and many dwarves of Durin’s Folk. During the fearsome and terrible battle, wielding his beloved axe and spear, he killed many Orcs before he was struck a deadly blow. An Orc had hit him in the head and he fell. He was found and taken for care, but the Orc axe blade was embedded and could not be removed. The head wound ran deep, and affected his mind. Bifur forgot much of his old life, though he recognized his cousins who cared for him as he mended. He also soon regained his memory of Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin and their leadership in battle, but he did not remember his beloved Claeryan. He found he could not communicate in the Common Tongue, but only in Khuzdul, the ancient language of dwarves, a language secret and sacred. The loss of his kindred was too painful to bear, and so he threw away his axe, keeping only the one in his skull as a reminder to pay back the Orc who killed his family and wounded his soul.

Bifur continued his work as a toy-maker in the Blue Mountains after the Battle, but his toys became strange and grotesque, things of clockwork and sorrow. Frustrated and confused, Bifur grew melancholy and quiet, and only occasionally did a smile find its way to his lips and eyes. When Thorin sent out a call for a band to accompany him to the Lonely Mountain, Bifur readily answered, anxious for a different life. At times he cannot remember what year it is, whether they travel through the Blue Mountains to another settlement or through the Misty Mountains to Erebor, and in the heat of battle Bifur forgets all else but the vengeance he seeks. But as the quest progresses, Bifur becomes more focused and lucid, and communicates more willingly with the other dwarves. Though he remains closest to his cousins, he finds great solace in the leadership of Thorin Oakenshield.

Roleplay Sample:

Bifur sat quietly in a corner, watching and listening. The journey to Bad End had been long and at times rough, but he had the company of his cousins and that made the time seems shorter. He realized that they would be traveling the same road back again, but for now he was content to sit and enjoy the feeling of a full stomach, filled with the fresh greens of the Shire.

He like the Hobbit, and the hole where he lived, though it was a bit cramped for his taste. He had never met a Hobbit before, and though this one seemed rather uptight, he found the place clean and comfortable, a great difference from the dwellings of dwarves and men in the Blue Mountains. He loved the Mountains, yes, but he found he also liked the little hole in the ground.

Bifur glanced up and saw Thorin and Balin talking quietly in the hallway. He strained to listen, but could hear nothing but uncertain murmurs. Bifur lowered his eyes sadly and gripped his knees. At times like this, times of quiet and comfort, he more clearly remembered who and where he was, and he yearned to share in the lives of the other dwarves. But the others knew of his wound and the trouble it caused, and would not see when his clouded vision briefly cleared. Only Bofur and Bombur recognized the signs, and would eagerly join him in sport and the telling of tales before he slipped away from them again.

Tears brimmed in Bifur’s eyes. Even just that evening, Bifur had gotten in a nasty scrape with Nori over a stolen bun. Bifur’s mind had fogged, and he saw only a thieving enemy, not one of his own. He had fought fiercely, held back only by Dori’s strong arms and the lack of a weapon. Bofur had pulled him away and spoken to him quietly, calming his maddened nerves, but through the red anger Bifur had caught a glimpse of Thorin, who watched him warily.

Regret and sorrow coursed through Bifur as he remembered that gaze, the gaze of their royal captain. Thorin knew his tendencies, knew the danger they caused, yet had not turned him away. Bifur had followed Thorin eagerly into the Battle of Moria, and though it was there he received the wound, he still remained loyal to the leader, finding strength in Thorin’s guidance.

A hand descended heavily on Bifur’s shoulder, and he jumped and reached for his knife. But as he raised his eyes he recognized his cousin Bofur, a dear friend who cared for him like no other. Bofur looked down at him a bit sadly, then smiled.

“Come on, Bif,” Bofur said lightly. “Come join me by the fire.”

Bifur blinked, nodded once, and rose, following his cousin to the sitting room and to the beginning of the quest.

BEHIND THE SCREEN:

Alias: cateyes19
Codeword: hobbit
Experience: This is my first online RPG, having only played a bit of D&D in the past.
How you found us?: My good friend and fellow dwarf enthusiast invited me to join.
Other Characters:
How should we contact you?: Email is best.