I'll see you wriggle like a grub on a hook

Your name is ROSACE LANDOL and you are what most trolls would GIVE UP A LIMB to be, if such an action would not most likely lead to a nice little encounter with the CULLING FORK. You are of one of the highest castes: a SEA DWELLER, though you do not flaunt the more AQUATICALLY-BASED aspects of your anatomy. You are quite strong, with a SHARP WIT and an even SHARPER TONGUE. Not that many outside of your CLOSE-KNIT group of GRUBHOOD ACQUAINTANCES has chanced arousing your TEMPER.

TO KNOW YOU is TO FEAR YOU, after all. Should they be so careless as to ENRAGE YOU, most of them realize that they have approximately A SNOWBALL'S (1) CHANCE IN HELL of leaving with the depths of their minds UNMOLESTED. Your ANCESTOR left you many JOURNALS and CONDESCENDING TIPS, insisting on PUTTING YOU THROUGH HOOPS even from beyond the grave. Despite her no-doubt PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVELY SNIDE INTENTIONS you have learned much. A WELL-PLACED WORD, you have found, can be JUST AS EFFECTIVE and TWICE AS DEADLY.

You are currently on the CUSP of ACHIEVING YOUR MATURITY, and as such have begun to SERIOUSLY CONSIDER others as POTENTIAL QUADRANT-FILLS. You never paid much heed to such TRIFLES in your earlier sweeps, much too busy KNITTING and PERUSING THE LATEST THINKPAN VIVISECTION JOURNALS, but being 8.31 means that it is time to GET SERIOUS.