Fumo Smokebelcher

Fumo Smokebelcher is a Azerblood Dwarf Paladin serving in the Turellian Army.

Early Life
Up until the entire tribe were almost entirely wiped from the face of the world, the Smokebelcher Clan had a bit of a reputation amongst the other dwarven clans living underneath the Kirin's Mane Mountains. Those who do remember the Smokebelchers do not do so fondly, and the mere mention of the name in a crowded Dwarven city is almost sure to bring a hail of spit down upon the speaker. Some clans considered them little better than duergar or giants, as the savagery the Smokebelchers were capable of and known for seemed more in line with the actions of those groups than most lawful dwarven clans. The Smokebelchers were Azer by blood, and their fiery heritage showed itself in the worst possible ways in the actions of the clan. Raiders, looters and marauders, the sight of a Smokebelcher raiding party riding basilisks nearby was enough to send fear into the hearts of the most steely dwarven defender. Almost unanimously, the clan were known for their brutality-some even said the women of the Smokebelchers were even more savage than their male counterparts. There was no place for weakness in their bloodthirsty tribe.

It is for precisely this reason that Fumo living past childhood was truthfully, nothing short of miraculous. The youngest of twenty children, Fumo was a full two heads smaller than the other members of his family, a fact which did nothing to endear him to the rest of the Smokebelchers. Normally a runt like Fumo would have been abandoned immediately, but he was instead given the "great honor" of cleaning up after the basilisks, a job which entailed wearing a bucket on his head to avoid the basilisks' petrifying gaze while pushing a rake through their pen. His brothers and sisters were quite fond of throwing rocks at him in an attempt to knock the bucket off his head during these chores. Never growing even half as tall as his father, Fumo was often put into a saddlebag when the group moved from place to place.

The night that his family died, the Smokebelchers had recently ransacked a cathedral and were enjoying their ill-gotten gains late into the night. Drunk on monastery wine, the clan lay passed out around the fire, while Fumo toiled away in the Basilisk den, a fresh cut on his face still bleeding from whe his father had struck him with his boot earlier that night. His heart threatened to bubble over with rage. Suddenly, he heard something-a noise, far down the mountain path. He peered over the edge and saw a troupe of paladins gathered there, riding up the hill towards where his family lay. He started running instinctively over to sound an alarm, but something stopped him short. Maybe it was the fresh cut on his face, maybe it was the rage...but whatever the cause, Fumo moved almost as if in a dream and silently took up a position in some bushes nearby, and watched as his family was cut to ribbons by the vengeful force. When the deed was done and the paladins had left, Fumo's fugue had not quite been lifted yet...and he stumbled, trancelike, down the path to the church his family had destroyed the night before, and fell asleep in the confessional, sobbing and wracked with guilt.

It was two days before a reconnaissance force found him. Dirty, small, and covered in basilisk leavings, the captain stayed his blade and took pity on him, bringing him back to the guardhouse. Fumo never told a soul about his family or what he'd seen. He took up a position as the captain's squire, and gave himself over completely to the principles of the guardhouse, all followers of Sarenrae. The only way to atone for his crime was to live a life of benevolence, he decided, and Fumo devoted himself entirely to becoming a true crusader.

Characteristics and Personality
Fumo is short and stout, even by Dwarf standards. His Azer blood shows itself very clearly in his features, as his ruddy skin and the smoldering tips of his beard are not common characteristics for other dwarf clans in the region. Rarely seen without the beret given to all members of the guardhouse he adopted as his home, Fumo also wields a club nearly as tall as he to great effect.

Though he strives to exhibit Sarenrae's merciful brand of good in his command as much as possible, his heritage occasionally flares up more than he can control, and as such Fumo can be prone to bouts of furiously righteous anger. True to his lineage, however, these periods of rage usually only last as long as the offender remains a direct threat. Because of the way he was treated by his family, Fumo often goes out of his way to be an especially accepting or helpful leader, and has a difficult time punishing or reprimanding those under his command. He prefers to let his actions guide others towards a better path. Fumo has also taken a Vow of Chastity, as the captain who took him in had taken before him. As such, Fumo has sworn off personal relationships of any kind. When not in combat, Fumo is generally a very kind-hearted dwarf. Genuinely concerned for the well-being of his troops, Fumo will not hesitate to put his own life in danger for any under his watch. When faced with a perilous decision, he will often attempt to do the brave thing, even if it seems foolish to those around him. Secretly, Fumo has never forgiven himself for his cowardice during the deaths of his family, and as such now attempts to overcompensate when faced with dangerous choices.

Trivia

 * Fumo is missing two fingers on his left hand. They were eaten by trolls when his brothers threw him into a cave as a child.