Beorn Stormcalled

Dwarven warpriest of Kord, mercenary

Description:

Storm domain warpriest, level 1

Wields warhammer

Bio:

My parents were rich dwarves who controlled a mining outpost,
Coppervein, in the mountains west of Hammerfast. About 30 years ago, a
remnant of the Bloodspear horde swept through the area and destroyed
the outpost. My siblings and I were taken to Hammerfast by our aunt
and uncle, but our parents were killed in the failed defense.
As adults, my siblings and I agree that we need to raise money and a
force of warriors to clear the outpost and re-open it. We disagree on
the best way to do that.
My eldest brother Oron believes that the defenders of Coppervein were
doomed by their poor weapons and armor, and became a blacksmith. Now
he’s the senior journeyman in Teldoran Ironthews’ smithy in Fallcrest,
and a devout worshipper of Moradin.
My sister Alayne believes that they lacked sufficient healers and
medics, and became an herbalist. She works with the House of the Sun
(Pelor’s temple), although she is only marginally faithful.
The middle brother, Esen, believes that our parents mismanaged
Coppervein’s finances and failed to spend enough on supplies or
defense. He became a merchant, and works with the Deepgem Trading
Company, traveling the Vale. He pays lip service to many gods, but
truly reveres Erathis alone.
I, the youngest, believe that my siblings are fools who cannot see the
plain truth: Coppervein fell because it did not fight with sufficient
strength, skill, or valor. I became a mercenary to learn the ways of
war, and worshipped Kord with great fervor.
A few months ago, our band was attacked by a massive orcish tribe, and
fell rapidly to them. I was the last standing, and shouted prayers to
Kord as the vile spearmen surrounded me. Their chieftain laughed and
mocked my faith, until the bolt from a clear blue sky struck him dead
where he stood. The tribe scattered, I nursed my wounded comrades back
to health, and ever since Kord’s power seems to follow me. Kord does
not obey me, but he comes to my aid when I most need him, freeing my
allies from pain and striking down my foes with the strength of his
thunder.

Beorn Stormcalled

The Bitter North mpenny