Underneath a brow that seems permanently furrowed glares the kind of spiteful eyes that can only come from a hard upbringing. Average in weight and height, Borki wears leather wristcuffs and shoulder pads and a fur cloak over work clothes.
Borki Burlasson is a middle-age dwarf coachman. He ventures beyond the mountains far more than a proper dwarf should but he likes the solitude of the road. Because of this and his lack of notable ancestry, he keeps to himself mostly. He doesn’t come from wealth and prides himself on having never made a late delivery….until he was beset upon by greenskins a few days ago, losing his goods, his coach, his meager savings and worst of all, his pride.
While not nearly as sociable or gregarious as most dwarves, Borki has an affinity for animals and a loyal steed would be the closest thing he has to a friend. He’s seen many places in his travels and has a knack with compass and map. Life on the road suits him well.
While preferring to spend most of his time smoking rotweed, behind the reins of a coach bound for the horizon, his usually angry demeanor simmers to solace. He was orphaned early and it’s difficult to imagine him as ever had smiled once in his life. Likewise, it’s difficult to imagine what motivates him but whatever it is, it seems to lie beyond an endless horizon.