Name: Bren Silverhammer
Class: Cleric
Race: Dwarf
Age: 23
Height: 4'9
Weight: 210
Eyes: Hunter Green
Hair: Reddish/Brown
Alignment: Lawful Good

Bren's Story

Character Description: At first glance one might tend to overlook the small powerfully built dwarf, but one look at those fierce deep green eyes often causes one to stop and rethink his choices carefully. Especially if those choices are less than honorable. Another thing that becomes apparent once you are around him for awhile is that this dwarf has a sense of humor, something that is usually lacking in a dwarf. However his quick wit and good humor has gotten him out of more than one tight situation or at least distracted his opponent long enough to get the first strike in which is sometimes the difference between life and death.

Biography: It was a beautiful day, birds were singing and the trees were just the proper shade of auburn, it was going to be a glorious wedding. Bren brushed at his tunic nervously glancing again at the candle burning on the dresser than would keep track of the fast approaching hour. Dwarves from all over (not to mention quite a few elves) had been arriving since before sundown the previous day and it had been some job trying to find space for everyone.

Thoughts and rumors of war to the north were spreading, but today it seemed to have little effect on the guests for most chatted gaily amongst themselves while helping themselves to the ever abundant feast that had been spread out on the rough hewn tables placed beneath the oaks down by the river. Bren's father Bgeorn was rushing around making sure his guests had enough of this or that for it was his strongest desire that not only was this to be a great wedding but he hoped also to renew trade with some of the neighboring dwarves from the towns upriver. Trading had been somewhat slow since the rumors of battle as close as twinforks had spread and that could prove disastrous to Bren's merchant father.

Soon the music that signaled the beginning of the ceremony was heard and everyone started finding their appropriate places. Bren and his father took their positions and turned expectantly towards where the bride would make her entrance. Oh if only mother could've been here Bren said to his father, she would have loved this. Alas Bren's mother had died 2 summers before from the fever and it was that incident that had made him decide to study with Krewe the local healer, after only 2 yrs Bren was fast becoming a cleric of some reputation and Krewe was constantly urgeing the youngster to take up and go to Freeport where he could further his training among the various talents that lay in that far away city. But alas it was apparently not to be, 'cause here he was about to be married to one of the most beautiful girls in the village. There she was making her way down the aisle toward him, he could hardly remember a time when he hadn't loved Selene it seemed as if she had always been there. Bren heard the music of the elves in the background as well as the murmur of approval from the guests but suddenly all seemed to go in slow motion, the sky darkened and there arose a wail like that of a thousand dead screaming at once there was a great rush of wind and a giant shape dropped from the sky like a felled tree. It was a nightmare come alive as dwarfs and elves scrambled for weapons that were now it seemed way too far from hand. Dwarves male and female alike reacted however like a people who have been fighting for a thousand thousand years and soon axes were in hand and bucklers and shields strapped into place, elven long bows hummed with fierce determination having little effect on the gigantic wurm that had rudely interrupted the event. The dragon made his way along the stone pavers that had lined the bride's path only moments before, intent on reaching the bride and her maidens at the end of it. But these are dwarves we are talking about not sniveling human females so when the dragon reached the group he was met with a barrage of axe and swordstrokes as well as a few arrows. The wurm reared up to its full height letting out a tremendous scream and let loose a stream of acid heat that immediately obliterated everything in its path dwarf, elf or tree included.

Bren stared awestruck by the spectacle he had just witnessed and only had a split second to react before being buried beneath a swarm of burnt and mutilated bodies. Bren awoke sometime later to the smell of burnt flesh, it made him sick so he retched, uncontrollable tears welling up in his dwarven green eyes as memories came flooding back to him. He forced himself to rise and look around at the carnage and retched again. Several were moving now among the wounded and dying giving aide where they could and a prayer where it was to late. Numbly he started doing the same and before long the faces became as one long nightmare that the jovial dwarf knew he would be a long time forgetting. Then hecame upon the torn remains of his father broken and bleeding lying amongst the pavers of the walk. "Father", Bren said kneeling down beside him "Let me help you" Bren said most urgently. "Nay, Bren, my time is past my son, it is up to you know to go and take revenge for my death and to avenge those that have perished today" and with those words Bgeorn breathed his last. Bren gently closed the eyes of his dead father then cradling him in his arms he carried the man away and buried him 'neath the tree next to where his mother lay.

Later the next day after some order had been restored to the community Bren set about packing his things and getting ready to leave. Jorn one of Bren's closest friends came in and asked where he was headed. "I must go north" Bren replied, "for that is where my destiny lies. The dragon has fled to the north and my love was never found among the bodies. He came for some reason what I cannot say but I must go to find this devil beast and ascertain whether Selene still lives and even if she does not honor demands that I avenge the death of my father and all those that died here yesterday."

And with those words spoken Bren slung his pack onto his shoulder and picked up his war hammer, and headed north away from the place he had called home since birth to discover strange new things and travel distant lands, but that my friends is a story best told another time.