Lost Mines of Phandelver
Mountain Dwarf Bard
A stout dwarf with a head that’s slick and hairless to show off the rich blue clan markings decorating his cranium stands before you. A burly tuft of hair rooted in his cheeks and chin stretch down to his waist neatly braided and tied into the signature knot of the Battlebrand clan.
The ceremonial war-drum strapped to his back longs to answer its calling to be the heartbeat of battle yet again.
“There’s always a high price to pay for righting wrongs.”
Height: 4’ 4"
Hair: Bald with a Fiery Red Beard
Armor and Weapons
Instrument Proficiency: Drums, Bagpipes, and Horn
Weapons of Choice: Rapier and Dagger, Light Hammers for Throwing, and the power of SONG
Personality & Background
I know a story relevant to almost every situation.
Beauty. When I perform, I make the world better than it was.
My instrument is my most treasured possession, and it reminds me of someone I love. (Or in my case, somewhere…)
A scandal prevents me from ever going home again. That kind of trouble seems to follow me around.
The Battlebrand Clan
The Battlebrand name is usually only recognized by the dwarves of northwestern Faerûn. We are most well known for our blacksmithing abilities, more specifically the armor we can craft. Not all of us are subjected to the gritty life of the blacksmith though.
The Warcallers and the Orcish Dwarven Turf War of Northern Faerûn
Over 100 years ago, the Ironmaw clan, a well-organized orc clan, attempted to cast out my people from their mining town in the mountains between the Anauroch Desert and Dalelands. Being the shield dwarves that we are, we stood our ground and pushed them back. The orc clan was nearly obliterated, but so was my town, and more specifically, my clan. After the 12 years of war, the town still remains today, slowly recovering in numbers. However, the Battlebrand name is a dying name.
I served in a special military group that led war marches called the Warcallers. A dwarven army is a well-oiled machine, and the Warcallers were a vital part of that machine. As a Warcaller, you wielded your wardrum, instead of an axe, a hammer, or a sword. By our lead, the troops would march into battle to our beat of the drum, blow of the bagpipes, and blast of the horn. Our chants would lift their spirits and inspire the troops as they fought on. It was our music and song that orchestrated each victory.
Near the end of the war, I was falsely accused of treason and exiled from my homeland. Little more is known of the accusation, aside from it being swift and kept very low-key.
Becoming the Performer
After decades of following wherever the road would take me, I found myself in Neverwinter meeting the one and only Gundren . Immediately, we hit it off. We were Dwarves talking Dwarven things: ranting of subpar craftsmanship of pretty much anything that wasn’t made by a dwarf, chattering about the thrill of the open road and adventure, and reminiscing of our hometowns buried deep in a bed of rock.
It was Gundren that gave me my first job in Neverwinter. One job led to another, and eventually Neverwinter became home, or as close to a home as I could get.
Aside from my contracted work through Gundren, I always enjoy giving a grand performance for those around me, whether it’s for the folks gathered around my campfire or a crowd at an inn.
The Pride of Battlebrand
I will continue to wear the Battlebrand name with pride, but it pains me to speak of my homeland to most folks. I will forever wear the Battlebrand braid and carry my Warcaller drum. They mean everything to me.