Medium brown; long and straight, plaited into a single, thick braid that reaches nearly to her knees.
Grey-green; a strong, clear gaze hardened by the eternal snows of Dun Morogh.
Average height (for Dwarves).
The average stocky build of most Dwarven females.
Practical leather armour, with a preference for tougher materials over flexibility. Consistently crafted by herself. Doesn't bother much about formal wear as her outfit is, for all intents and purposes, her uniform as a budding Mountaineer of Ironforge.
The military-issue Dwarven rifle; dual axes for the odd up-close-and-personal chop shop.
Hearty and jovial, with the tell-tale Dwarven accent. A rich alto.
Cheerful and jovial, always prepared to share a pint of Dwarven spirit, be it Thunder Ale or Barleybrew Scalder. Enjoys being out in the field, scouting the wild or pursuing a particularly fine trophy, but isn't made any less sociable by her often drawn-out and far-ranging missions.
Keeps a private (and rather passionate) interest in archaeology. She's very reluctant to admit to it and always waves it aside when it's brought up in conversation.
When she's not in the Military Ward restocking hunting supplies, she can more often than not be found in the Hall of Explorers, eager to pick up some wayward supply mission to a half-forgotten digout on the other side of the realm.
Skinner and leatherworker by trade; well-versed in cooking and likes to kick back every now and then with a fishing pole in hand.
An impressive shot with the Dwarven rifle; hence why she settled upon
a career as a Hunter and Mountaineer.
Possibly a little -too- fond of the liquor ... though she dances like a devil when the booze hits.
Firmly loyal to the Dwarven High King and the Bronzebeard clan. Recently recruited into the guild Core of the Chosen.
The latest generation in a long line of experienced Mountaineers and marksmen (and markswomen!). Although her family name isn't among the more illustrious of the Ironforge Dwarves, it is nevertheless recognised for its unfailing loyalty to the throne and crown of Dun Morogh, as well as a byword for skilled Mountaineers and scouts.
Her father is preparing for his retirement. Her mother died a few years ago in a rockslide in an old digout in the Badlands. She has a couple of close friends in Kharanos and Brewnall, whom she keeps a more or less regular correspondence with.
Highly antagonistic towards the Dark Irons; more due to the ancient clan enmity with the Bronzebeards than any personal vendetta.
Her bear companion, Grimshaw.
Mission
Ranger of Ironforge
"Ye call this ale?! Ah've tasteed Stormwind street wat'r that had moa're kick innit!!"
The latest generation in a long line of experienced Mountaineers and marksmen (and markswomen!), and determined to carry on the family tradition.
To do her family tradition justice and fulfill her duty to the High King.
History
Kharanos
Born into the Longstrider line of the Bronzebeard clan, Tiira was raised from an early age to follow in her ancestors' footsteps as a Mountaineer of Ironforge. She took to her marksmanship training with great delight, quickly establishing herself as a natural with the Dwarven rifle and its construction, which further cemented her father's determination to train her to the best of both their abilities.
Tiira was just about to reach adulthood when her mother, a dedicated archeologist, went missing and was subsequently reported dead in a digout accident in the Badlands. This had a tremendous impact on Tiira's father, who shortly afterwards sent an application to the High King asking for retirement. The King met with the heartbroken widower personally, speaking to him at length and eventually convincing him to remain in active service until such time that his daughter would be able to succeed him in his duties.
As her father had little interest in his departed wife's profession, he was content to simply have her various works stored away for an eventual memorial, but Tiira, still reeling from the loss of her beloved mother, pestered him about it until he simply gave up and let her engross herself - under the condition that she wouldn't use it as an excuse to shirk her rifle drills. She didn't disappoint, managing rather impressively to keep up with her father's stringent training schedule while piling into her new hobby.
As soon as her father deemed her skilled enough to begin taking up missions on her own, she set out for Coldridge Valley carrying only her father's worn old blunderbuss, the clothes on her body and the express intent of making her parents - living and not - proud of her, no matter the cost.
Currently lodged at the Stoutlager Inn in Thelsamar
Quests
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Training, starting nearly as soon as she was capable of holding her father's rifle without falling over. And a bit o' good ol' fam'ly bloodline.
Connections
Tiira's Connections
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Pterneldan
Journal
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Gallery
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Kikyo
Loremistress Cordillia Angelprice
