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Race: Shield Dwarf
Weight: 174 lbs
Eyes: Silvery Blue
Hair: Long, mid-back length dirty blonde-brown
Facial Hair Style: Long, thick and wild mangy beard
General Health: Stocky, broad, muscular
Deity: Tempus “Lord of Battles” dogma encouraging the use of force of arms to settle disputes. Be fearless. Never turn away from a fight. Obey the rules of war.
Initial Alignment: Chaotic/Neutral
Profession: Travelling Barbarian for hire, makes money collecting on quests and contracts
Habits/Hobbies: Fighting, Brawling, Mining, Greedy for Gold and Fame
Languages: Common, Dwarven
Weapon of Choice: Greataxe
Base Stats: HP (14) STR (17) DEX (17) CON (15) INT (7) WIS (12) CHA (6)
- Oblivious to etiquette and social expectations
- To me, a tavern brawl is a nice way to get to know a new city.
- The best way to get me to do something is to tell me I can’t do it.
- Want to know how Spells and gadgets work.
- Always picking things up, absently fiddling with them, sometimes they accidentally break
- Well known for my work, want to make sure everyone appreciates it. Taken aback when people haven’t heard of me.
- Have a ‘tell’ that reveals when I’m lying. (Combs fingers through beard)
- The people who knew me when I was younger know my shameful secret, so I can never go home again.
- Violence is my answer to almost any challenge.
- Once I start drinking, it’s hard for me to stop
- Destiny. Nothing and no one can steer me away from my higher calling. (Any)
- Glory. I must earn glory in battle, for myself and my clan. (Any)
- No Limits. Nothing should fetter the infinite possibility inherent in all existence. (Chaotic)
- Loved one diedbecause of a mistake I made. That will never happen again.
- Stillseeking redemption I pursued in my seclusion, and it still eludes me.
- Will bringterrible wrath down upon dragons for killing father Smork Thunderfist.
- Those who fight beside me are those worth dying for.
Born in 1325 in the Silver Marches region, Cronk “the Destroyer” of the Thunderfist clan was a proud Shield Dwarf who called Citadel Adbar home. The Dwarves dwelling here make their living by mining, smelting and forging their native ores. His father, Smork Thunderfist, was a brave barbarian and also part of the Iron Guard militia force. His mother was Mikali Thunderfist, a bard fighter who oddly enough was not fond of battle. Cronk could trace his lineage back over 1400 years, his mother of clan Farflung even further. Elder brother Magnus, born 4 years ahead followed closely in his father footsteps.
Cronk and Magnus were both skilled in combat even from a young age, always trying to outdo the other one, almost equal rivals. Over the years Cronk had trouble controlling his rage… the cursed, endless rage that came with being a Barbarian. One time during a scuffle when he was only 10, he knocked Magnus unconscious and continued at him, having to be restrained by his father all because Cronk had lost the fight with his inner rage, his anger getting the best of him.
Again Cronk lost control when he first saw battle at the age 22 against a thrall of invading Goblins and Orcs came to raid the region. Joining a voluntary military force, it met and defeated the invaders. He had taken on 2 Orcs alone walking out with barely a scratch, nearly dismembering his own fellow Dwarven warriors fighting alongside him. He feared losing control like this…”What if” he thought, “I do something someday I can’t take back… Something awful I regret?” It was this encounter with the Trolls that left Cronk with the title “the Destroyer” as he would come to be known by around the Citadel.
When Cronk came of age 36, his brother Magnus went on a particular adventure with their father; being the older brother it was his right to be picked first. They were summoned to slay a dragon terrorizing the countryside. Smork was well known in these lands for his fearlessness and relentless rage in battle and had been approached by a band of other valiant champions to pursue the dragon and put an end to its rampage. Months turned to years of searching for the great winged beast travelling across the land to track it down. When Smork and his companions finally enclosed on the dragon where the final battle would take place, none would have thought it would be his and the dragon’s final resting place.
Smork Thunderfist was slain after charging madly, leaping from a cliff while attempting to cut off the head of the dragon with his famed falchion of Slaughter. As luck would have it the dragon had seen the barbarian charging in from above, managing to quickly turn and devour the Dwarf in a single bite, sealing his fate as he chewed him to pieces. While the dragon was distracted by his father’s ambitious attack, Magnus was able to deal the monster a fatal blow, driving his great sword deep into its heart! Recovering whatever parts of his father he could, the companions find the falchion close by, packing up the loot the dragon had been coveting and readied for the return journey home. They were bringing good and bad news of the long adventure home to their kin.
Since then, 9 years had passed after the first day Smork and Magnus left the Citadel in chase of the dragon. This left Cronk the role as head of the house, making repairs, assisting his mother with daily tasks around the home not to mention frequently being summoned to protect caravans along the main road in and out of the city. When Magnus returned he quickly re-assumed head of the house now that their father was dead and he was older after all, which he never let Cronk live down. Devastated at the news of his father’s death Cronk had taken up a vengeance against dragons seeking to do better than his father when his sword met their hot flame. He vowed never to end up the same way, lost in rage leaping from a cliff into a dragon’s maw… “Do not let the rage make you act foolishly!” he would think madly to himself.
Years had passed following his father’s untimely death, while Magnus frequently would be found recanting the story of Smork’s brave attack and how he had triumphantly slain the beast, embellishing in the glory, each time adding a light more flare of detail. Over the years Cronk grew angrier each time he heard his brother bragging of his strength and bravery, how it had been him that thrust his sword into the great beast belly rendering it fatally wounded, as he twist his blade in deeper, sealing the creatures fate, forever gaining him fame and glory.
Cronk wished to taste such wonder and glory for himself. He greatly missed his father, whom he always looked up to and one day wished to fight bravely beside, knowing now his chance of this is now gone. He loved hearing him speak of the vicious battles he had endured over the years. With each fight and victory he grew stronger, feeling more alive than ever before just as Cronk experienced. Those last 9 years Cronk had spent training harder than ever to live up to his father’s reputation and yearned to become the barbarian he was one day. His brothers’ boastful return only fueled this quest for greatness, blood and battle! It was the one placed he could try to channel his rage. He searched the lands nearby for contracts to collect on and battles to fight, caring little for who was involved just that there was a need for his bloodlust.
Magnus and Cronk did not always see eye to eye, but respected the bond they had as brothers. Often they sparred and fought over the years, each having gave the other more than a couple scars to remember them by, but when the hammer fell they each could be counted on to back-up the other. The day would come the twos rivalry would be put to the test.
Cronk’s downtime was spent honing his skills using fists, blades, bows, weapons of all shape and size, becoming familiar in vigorous training regiments and sparring drills. He had grown into quite a fierce and powerful fighter, perhaps even besting his elder brother Magnus skills some thought. When word of this rumour fell on Magnus ears of this uncertainty as to “who was the greater Dwarven warrior?” that led to him challenging his younger sibling in unarmed combat. Cronk accepted the challenge as he had grown tired of his brother’s ways, still soaking fame from his father’s failure. How often he had heard that sad story of his final moments, last rage driven mistake, his brother seizing his opportune chance at glory…
The two brothers met just on the outskirts of the Citadel with a handful of onlookers, bet takers, warriors, and commoners gathering round to watch the two settle the rivalry they had shared since childhood for good! The two walked to the centre and the blows began to trade, back and forth, blood spilling from both combatants mouth, knuckles bleeding and gashes opening on the bridge of the nose and around the eye, when Cronk thought he caught a glimpse of his mother Mikali at the edge of the crowd. It was a moment he regretted being distracted for as Magnus landed a hard hit straight to his jaw causing Cronk to stagger back. Cronk looked up as his brother came at him again before blacking out.
He came to as many hands pulled at him from behind yanking him back, 8 men struggling to control the Dwarf, resisting persistently trying to fight off the grapples, unaware of what was happening around him. He knew he was fighting and covered in blood. When he finally opened his eyes he realized where he was, seeing on the ground ahead of him the limp lifeless looking form of a woman lying over top of Magnus beat and bruised body on the ground in front of him. His brother still drew breathe as his chest rose and fell slowly, panting for air as he coughed up blood. Freeing himself of the many hands trying to restrain him Cronk shuffled forward towards his brother, looking at the body of the woman, uncertain as he approached. He got beside them bending over to see in shock who it was, turned his mother Mikali on her back, seeing her chest was crushed, neck looked broken he tried futilely to check for sign of life.
“What happened!” he screamed. Confusion painted across his face. The crowd slowly began to thin and disperse with a low murmur amongst themselves.
“How could he have done that? That savage lost control! What will we do now? He is a monster! Cronk the Destroyer! Cronk the Destroyer!”Citizen of Citadel Adbar, fight scene, 1345 DR
As they began chanting Cronk picked up his mother’s body, carrying her over his shoulder back into the Citadel. Here she was laid to rest to sleep forever in the tomb beside the remains of Smork Thunderfist, and his famed falchion of Slaughter he once carried proudly into battle still shining brightly alongside his armour. He tended to his mother’s body, filled with remorse by killing her, lost in a sea of rage when she attempted to get between the two brothers during their viscous fight. Cronk dared not face Magnus again even though he was the victor, besting his elder sibling leaving him beat and broken.
Cronk left his home seeking redemption for his mistake, trying to replace his loss with the fame, glory, and adventure he had always yearned for. He met great challenges as he travelled the lands of Faerun although he wished it was cause to less morbid reason… He dread the day he once again face his brother Magnus Thunderfist. “How will he see me? As his brother, or the monster that killed our mother.” he thought.
The Citadel of Many Arrows, also known as Felbar, was recaptured by a force of Dwarves led by Emerus Warcrown in 1367DR. King Obould’s forces were exhausted after battling another orc tribe led by King Greneir. Cronk played a small part in this triumph, fighting with the Dwarven force. As the Dwarves and the other armies from Silverymoon and the surrounding human nations descended upon the fortress, Cronk saw in the midst of battle what he thought was his brother, Magnus, fighting down and slaying several Goblins and Orcs.
“Magnus? Is that really you, could you ever forgive me for what I’ve done?”Cronk Thunderfist at Citadel of Many-Arrows during battle, 1367 DR
With the barbarian Dwarfs eyes glazed over, he lifted a hand and began to approach the figure in his eyes to be suddenly knocked unconscious; he’d later learn from Horst retelling him that a catapult fire of rocks flew down from the ramparts and one hit him in the head, luckily grazing the helmet. He awoke nearly a day later in the reclaimed fortress of now Citadel Felbarr being tended to by Dwarven clerics.
Beside his bed was Horst, who at that moment he would remember being a cousin from the Farflung clan – his mother’s side – and from that moment on the two would find themselves travelling together.