A thin and prematurely wrinkled olive-skin man of short stature and curly brown hair. He affects an unconventional beard and is always squinting due to his near-sightedness.


Gender: Male Age: 32 Height: 5’5" Weight: 5 1/2 Stone (110 lbs)
EXP Earned: 35 EXP Spent: 10 EXP Remaining: 25

Primary Weapon: Mace (Atk: 4D+1, Dmg: 5D)
Primary Armor: Custom Tactical Hardened Leather Vest & Shield, (8D+1, Left Arm Occupied)
Primary Dress: tan keffiyeh, split robe, thick Leather Apron, and Elbow Length Gloves
Reputation: 1 Rank (Die) as Blacksmith

Perception: 2D Dexterity: 4D Strength: 3D Intelligence: 3D+1 Wisdom: 2D+2 Charisma: 2D+2

  • Resist Damage: 6D (Blacksmith Skin Bonus)
  • Blunt Weapons: 4D+2
  • Craft/Fashion – Blacksmithing: 7D
  • Languages: Elvish, Gnomish, Dwarven, Common (Desert Dialect)
  • S: Read/Write: 1D+2 (Common)
  • Appraise: 4D (Mercantile Pro Bonus)
  • Bargain: 4D+1 (Mercantile Pro Bonus)
  • Streetwise: 4D (Mercantile Pro Bonus)
  • Intimidate: 3D
  • Perception to 2D: 10 XP

Current Opinion: My stomach stops with the smallest morsels now. My courage told me to go home. My conscience said I had profited enough. The fading calluses on my hand showed I had been away from a home and forge for too long. Even my ego was sated with the knowledge of the ancient desert metal that I would now have a monopoly on. I tell others it is greed, but Pride is truly the harshest taskmaster. Well, that and fear.

The Desert is supposed to be secure now, but we all spoke with the God Martek (Fledgling God? He was surprisingly approachable, but even my friends admitted yes, he’s the son of a God) and he admittedly takes the looong view. It’s strange, but besides the one time I almost burned to death because of idiotic elven curiosity, these people make me feel… safe. They watch out for each other. Especially Kellyn. Even if she is young enough now that most people will want to bend her over knee and discipline her. Then again, the Gods are moving and acting through these people. Shalev Ben Barak was driven before in meeting Martek, but his singular determination and drive for Ma’at borders on insane. I still don’t know what Leilana is. Shakes head.

AND they’re powerful enough to help me triumph over my mentors! Not strong enough to wield a stumpy dwarven hammer, huh Master (Dwarf)? Fingers aren’t spindly and bony enough for fine elven wire weaving, neh Master (Elf)? Not drunk enough and tall enough to stop smelling my own vomit and shit, eh Master (Gnome)? Ha! Liars! It’s always been about the heat. The elven wind tunnels – the dwarven earth fire – the gnomish furnace; all about getting the earth hot enough! Master Justen thought the solution was the right blend of sulfur and other minerals which works, but is nae impossible to regulate. I had Prometheus’s fire in my hand, but it’s now lost. But once I recover the secret of heat, ancient desert gold steel and more will trump all of they’re legacies.

History: -


Tir Na n'Fir dwivian