Bentley Gravelmarrow
New member
Bentley Gravelmarrow
| Age 376 |
| Gender Male |
| Origin Runefolk |
| Occupation Retired Doorman |
When the muscle is all knuckles and relentless pummelings, when gravel is setting in the bones and creeping silt in joints does render a fist easier to strike and render than any handshake, that's Benley's retirement contingency in effect. When the fight's on, the granite of aged ambition forms a hammerblow fist. When Runefolk pension does turn flesh to stone, Bentley agreed, but on his terms. The first to go in most be the feet, so firmly entrenched into the ground by nature that they slow and become as strong as the mountain, urging stillness. For Bentley, for years of violence delivered by fists of champion status, bare knuckle boxing and pugilism forming the bedrock of enforcement.
Few knew how many circles were graced by Bentley's footwork, a tumble of aggression and quick tread step. The true weight of Gravelmarrow's transformation to aged menace going somewhat gracefully into elderly status, in the Runefolk affliction of statuesque considerations, his hands, weathered by blows struck, became almost entirely stone, scarcely pryable into regular gesture. Aside from drinking and smoking, such gestures well formed by habit still afforded by whatever flint wit did lie in the domain of the rock within the aged dwarf, other articulations are near impossible for Bentley. Weapons would never be accepted by Bentley, and odd habits, excuses and outright distractions are employed to hide his growing stillness in the hands.
Gruff, with an odd sense of fitting justice, the kind that does vindicate whatever menace it does bring, Bentley is a terrible drunk, yet a loyal patron to the pugilistic arts, darts, cards and feats of drinking. It is rumoured he draws a considerable financial pension from various endebted criminal circles, who secure his silence or pay their respects for his various maleficence association and brawling knock out performances. Others say he owns a slice of a training gym which have coached a number of champions, who kick back to Bentley. Bentley is chiefly concerned short term plans and short term stories, feeling he has done enough to firmly have the right to interrupt someone's peace with an interlude into a quandary oft thought about and oft anger inducing by Bentley.
"When you're about the business, you give Bentley a bell and there I is, right proper and suited and booted and ready to go, all shoulders and tails and stones waiting in the mail, you don't worry about the a thing, that door's hinges won't be disturbed because there a Gravelmarrow on the door. Now, pass us a bitters, I've got a thirst coming on from being in this sun. Let me tell you safari weather out here, keep expecting a land shark to rip me arms off from under any old wagon that wheels about, not that I'd feel it mind. Ah, thank you for the pint, hey, hey, you didn't put no coin in the bereft bottom of this flagon, because if you have-" - Bentley Gravelmarrow, often
Few knew how many circles were graced by Bentley's footwork, a tumble of aggression and quick tread step. The true weight of Gravelmarrow's transformation to aged menace going somewhat gracefully into elderly status, in the Runefolk affliction of statuesque considerations, his hands, weathered by blows struck, became almost entirely stone, scarcely pryable into regular gesture. Aside from drinking and smoking, such gestures well formed by habit still afforded by whatever flint wit did lie in the domain of the rock within the aged dwarf, other articulations are near impossible for Bentley. Weapons would never be accepted by Bentley, and odd habits, excuses and outright distractions are employed to hide his growing stillness in the hands.
Gruff, with an odd sense of fitting justice, the kind that does vindicate whatever menace it does bring, Bentley is a terrible drunk, yet a loyal patron to the pugilistic arts, darts, cards and feats of drinking. It is rumoured he draws a considerable financial pension from various endebted criminal circles, who secure his silence or pay their respects for his various maleficence association and brawling knock out performances. Others say he owns a slice of a training gym which have coached a number of champions, who kick back to Bentley. Bentley is chiefly concerned short term plans and short term stories, feeling he has done enough to firmly have the right to interrupt someone's peace with an interlude into a quandary oft thought about and oft anger inducing by Bentley.
"When you're about the business, you give Bentley a bell and there I is, right proper and suited and booted and ready to go, all shoulders and tails and stones waiting in the mail, you don't worry about the a thing, that door's hinges won't be disturbed because there a Gravelmarrow on the door. Now, pass us a bitters, I've got a thirst coming on from being in this sun. Let me tell you safari weather out here, keep expecting a land shark to rip me arms off from under any old wagon that wheels about, not that I'd feel it mind. Ah, thank you for the pint, hey, hey, you didn't put no coin in the bereft bottom of this flagon, because if you have-" - Bentley Gravelmarrow, often
Appearance
| Height 5"1 |
| Build Fiercely staunch about angles and leaning, stout and brawling of muscle |
| Hair White |
| Eyes Slate grey |
Weapons always on display, those stone marked and stone gripped fists. A slick jacket designed to withstand rain, alcohol splash and even the odd knife or bottle, of unknown material. Boots with wide sweeping constellations, a bowler hat of respectable worth and only worth removing for a special occasion.
Personality
Surly, cantankerous, spirited in argument, quick of irritabilities but when on the task of standing on business, will not be distracted from being about the business. Raucous laughter might mean a punch up or a withering mockery. Honest in financial dealings, with a vested interest in making sure everyone is paid fair with or without unions.
Skills
Pugilist of the Door - Years upon years of boxing, brawling, punching down doors and tearing apart facades of intimidation, Bentley can swing well, often, and punishingly effectively. His feet still serve, ducking and weaving in flashy motions which are most crowd cheer worthy.
I'll Never Play The Piano Again - Used to be able play piano in pubs and casinos, jaunty tunes that did raise a smile and a glass alike. No longer. The need for music in times of stress or rest and relaxation still stays with him however.
Gift Of The Strong and Rowdy - Quick course and impacting speech can batter the confidence of many a folk, curses, anecdotes, mockeries and just density of garbled punctuations of whatever Bentley has in his head, his voice can feel as bad as his bite.
I Swear I've Seen This Before - Just because Bentley doesn't remember something, doesn't mean he hasn't seen it. Who knows what might jog the memory, who knows who has tried to strike Bentley down before in word or melee?
I'll Never Play The Piano Again - Used to be able play piano in pubs and casinos, jaunty tunes that did raise a smile and a glass alike. No longer. The need for music in times of stress or rest and relaxation still stays with him however.
Gift Of The Strong and Rowdy - Quick course and impacting speech can batter the confidence of many a folk, curses, anecdotes, mockeries and just density of garbled punctuations of whatever Bentley has in his head, his voice can feel as bad as his bite.
I Swear I've Seen This Before - Just because Bentley doesn't remember something, doesn't mean he hasn't seen it. Who knows what might jog the memory, who knows who has tried to strike Bentley down before in word or melee?