Scubasteve0209
2008-05-15, 04:57 PM
With 4th ed arriving in the next month I decided to start coming up a character or two in anticipation.
Here's the first I latched on to. A Dwarven Rogue.
Origin of Brynja “Ring” Oathsworn
“The Oathsworn and Ironbeard will be united in marriage!” the cry went out in the dwarven celebration hall to a cacophony of cheers and raised mugs. The high arched wrought stone room reverberated with throaty congratulations and well-wishes.
One voice rose above them all. The suitor, Deagon Ironbeard, swayed drunkenly as he stood on a table at the center of the hall with his right hand raised above his head bellowing to his friends. “Do you see this magnificent ring? My beautiful betrothed made it just for me as an engagement gift!” He swilled his stein, foamy ale spilling down his thin, patchy beard and his curiously unsoiled leather apron.
Across the room Brynja Oathworn sat next to her father, arms crossed. She leveled her blue eyes at him with the best piercing gaze she could muster. “You told me the ring was a commission for an important client” she spat.
“Could there be a more important client? The Ironbeards are some of the finest armorers in the entire kingdom,” his watery eyes surveyed the party over his mead and nodded approvingly at the turnout.
“I have never heard him to work in the forge. I doubt he could even raise a hammer with those spindly arms. He can’t even hold his drink,” she muttered just loud enough to reach her father’s ear.
“Why must you resist your family at every turn?” he reprimanded, leveling his own heavy browed gaze back at his daughter. “I pledged the union to his father and an Oathsworn must never go back on his word. Besides, the marriage will combine the third oldest family of jewelers and one of the most respected smithy families. I can’t even imagine a more prosperous union.”
“Prosperous,” she tugged angrily at her long black braid, letting the word linger in her mind. “I could be wealthier on my own than if I had to drag his worthless carcass behind me.”
The old dwarf guffawed into his mug. “Fine, if you can make as much on your own as his family then I will release you of the engagement” he snorted sarcastically.
Brynja, did not respond to this. She remained quiet, and complacent for the rest of the night. She even submitted to standing next to, and holding hands with her fiancé when the patriarch of the Ironbeard clan arrived to give his blessing. She retired shortly thereafter, claiming she had important duties to attend to the next morning.
The next morning Deagon awoke atop the table in the celebration hall. He rolled to his stomach, knocking away plates and mugs in his struggle to shift his weight. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed his brother entering the hall and running towards him with an anxious look on his face as he planted his hands on the hard wood boards to push himself upright. His focus locked on to his right hand.
The Ring was missing.
Here's the first I latched on to. A Dwarven Rogue.
Origin of Brynja “Ring” Oathsworn
“The Oathsworn and Ironbeard will be united in marriage!” the cry went out in the dwarven celebration hall to a cacophony of cheers and raised mugs. The high arched wrought stone room reverberated with throaty congratulations and well-wishes.
One voice rose above them all. The suitor, Deagon Ironbeard, swayed drunkenly as he stood on a table at the center of the hall with his right hand raised above his head bellowing to his friends. “Do you see this magnificent ring? My beautiful betrothed made it just for me as an engagement gift!” He swilled his stein, foamy ale spilling down his thin, patchy beard and his curiously unsoiled leather apron.
Across the room Brynja Oathworn sat next to her father, arms crossed. She leveled her blue eyes at him with the best piercing gaze she could muster. “You told me the ring was a commission for an important client” she spat.
“Could there be a more important client? The Ironbeards are some of the finest armorers in the entire kingdom,” his watery eyes surveyed the party over his mead and nodded approvingly at the turnout.
“I have never heard him to work in the forge. I doubt he could even raise a hammer with those spindly arms. He can’t even hold his drink,” she muttered just loud enough to reach her father’s ear.
“Why must you resist your family at every turn?” he reprimanded, leveling his own heavy browed gaze back at his daughter. “I pledged the union to his father and an Oathsworn must never go back on his word. Besides, the marriage will combine the third oldest family of jewelers and one of the most respected smithy families. I can’t even imagine a more prosperous union.”
“Prosperous,” she tugged angrily at her long black braid, letting the word linger in her mind. “I could be wealthier on my own than if I had to drag his worthless carcass behind me.”
The old dwarf guffawed into his mug. “Fine, if you can make as much on your own as his family then I will release you of the engagement” he snorted sarcastically.
Brynja, did not respond to this. She remained quiet, and complacent for the rest of the night. She even submitted to standing next to, and holding hands with her fiancé when the patriarch of the Ironbeard clan arrived to give his blessing. She retired shortly thereafter, claiming she had important duties to attend to the next morning.
The next morning Deagon awoke atop the table in the celebration hall. He rolled to his stomach, knocking away plates and mugs in his struggle to shift his weight. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed his brother entering the hall and running towards him with an anxious look on his face as he planted his hands on the hard wood boards to push himself upright. His focus locked on to his right hand.
The Ring was missing.