Nentir Vale Campaign
Dwarf Fighter, a bit reckless (and lucky so far)- swings a mean warhammer !!!
Strength: 16 Constitution: 18
Dexerity: 15 Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 17 Charisma: 12
Fort: 19 Ref: 16 Will: 16
- Improved Initiative (1st level)
- Dwarven Weapon Training (2nd level)
- Devoted Challenge (3rd level)
- Warhammer, 1 handed Fighter Weapon Talent (+1 on attack rolls when used one handed).
- Hand Axe (x2), off hand, heavy thrown.
- +1 Dwarven Chain Mail. Additional properties: +1 on Endurance checks. Daily Power: Free Action regain hit points as spent a healing surge. Value: 520 gp. (PH 229)
- Small Dwarven Shield, made by Owengar with “Forgestriker” clan symbol.
- Cloak of the Walking Wounded: +1 on Fortitude, Reflex, and Will saves. Additional properties: Can be used with 2nd wind while bloodied, if so the character gains two healing surges (instead of 1 as normal). Value: 840 gp.
Owengar Forgestriker is a Mountain Dwarf, a dwarven society sometimes refered to in ancient texts as “The Kazadaran”, in reference to thier unwavering belief in the god “Kazadarum”, The Rock Father1. It is believed he created Dwarves from the rock of the first mountains that spiraled up to the sky. Where this “first mountain” is located has become lost in time, and stories that claim to know the location have become part of the myth of the dwarven race, tall tales and children’s stories. Many “Mountain Dwarves” see themselves as the pinnacle of Dwarven society, those who hold this belief tend to look down upon dwarves that have moved out into the foothills, or worse, become full time city- dwellers. They see their mountain homes as evidence of their faith in Kazadarum. Most mountain dwellers are more pragmatic, and at worst see other dwarves as those who have simply lost faith in “children’s stories” and find their lives enhanced by living among other races.
Owengar himself has faith in Kazadarum and is proud of his heritage, but realized at a young age that there was a world outside his mountain home of Hammerfast, nestled in the Dawnforge Mountains2. Travel was a way to make a living by forging weapons, armor, and other useful items all along the Trade Road, even as far as the town of Winterhaven, at the base of the Stonemarch Range3. It was only recently, on a trip to Winterhaven to deliver a rather large quantity of unprosessed mithral that he and a small group decided to acsend the Cairngorm Peaks, part of the Stonemarch range, against the advice of the townsfolk who have recently seen many of their friends simply disappear into the mountains. Having made it partway up, Owengar felt a strange presence around him, as if he was being led up the mountain by something that seemed to beckon him higher and higher up the peaks. His comrades had begun to feel something as well- fear. Dark clouds soon appeared and the group found itself cloaked within a mist of pure evil. As they began their descent, Owengar could hear the cries of some of his friends, but could not see anything within a few feet. The cries became shrieks, and Owengar found himself at the bottom of the mountain, alone. He yelled out to his comrades, but his voice seemed to become swallowed up by the very air around him. There was nothing left to do but rest in Winterhaven for the night, and hope his friends would find thier way by morning.
Owengar woke up to silence. He inquired to the innkeeper if he had seen any dwarves arrive last night. There were none. The merchant who he had delivered the mithral to had no answers either. He tried to hire a party of men with the gold he had been paid with, but not a soul would even be tempted by any such reward. “There is only death around that mountain, I suggest you should thank Pelor you have even seen the sun this morning.”
With no help, he decided to head back to Fallcrest to see if he could find some help. If not there, certainly some of his fellow dwarves in Hammerfast would come to help find the missing dwarves. Owengar knew there was more than just “death” on the mountain, he had sensed just the opposite at times. Depositing most of the gold from the sale with the local moneylender guild until he could return with more dwarves to make sure all the gold made it back to his employer in Hammerfast, he set alone along the Kings Road to Fallcrest. He decided to stay in town in hopes of finding a party headed to Winterhaven. Weeks went by, and his gold was running low. He found some work with a kind dwarven smith, Teldorthan Ironhews and his two sons. The work would not last long, as there was little work to be done. Owengar thanked the man, and planned to stay one more night before leaving for home back in Hammerfast.
Owengar spent a restless evening at the Silver Unicorn a local inn with as many stories, true or otherwise, as customers of all races and alignments. While there he found his thoughts wandering back to the feeling he had felt around him while on the mountian. What was it that seemed to beckon him higher up the mountain? He had felt no fear, even when the mist had begun to enshroud him and his group. Why had he been able to make it down the mountain without getting lost, as the others presumably had not? Something was up there in those mountains, he could feel it. He dressed and went down to the bar for some grog, and to see if he could find out anything about the history and lore of the Cairngorm Peaks. It was while sitting in the bar that he began talking to some dragonborn mercenaries. It was not long before they had a proposal from a member of the town council looking for a group to head to a place named “Kobald Hall”. That was all Owengar could gather in, having tipped a few too many mugs of grog. This was human made grog, a step below grog to any dwarf. With his newfound group of dragonborn mercenaries, Grill, Karlak (The Magnificent), Kiriv, and a well known halfling scout by the name of Roscoe Underbough, they were on their way. On the way out of town, Mr. Ironhews, the metalsmith Owengar had worked for, came rushing out after them. “They have taken my dragonhide, those Kobald thieves!!!” Owengar assured the party that he knew this dwarf, and blades were not needed. “Get me that Dragonhide and I will pay you more than its worth.” Owengar gave him his word he would do his best.
As they walked Owengar asked Roscoe a bit about the “Kobald Manor”. He offered up what he knew- thankfully where the place was and how to get there, but knew little else. Something else was on his mind as he talked. He mentioned that normally his friend and mentor, a Douven Staul would be with us. I asked him why he was not coming along, joking about the tendancy for halflings to “wander off” on occasion. He gave a weak smile, and mentioned something about him going to Winterhaven and not returning, but brushed it off by saying, “Ahh, he will probably be back soon enough, he’s quite a ranger.” Roscoe’s voice could not hide his concern, and at the mention of Winterhaven and Douven’s “wandering” Owengar stopped in his tracks. He decided now was not the time to mention his brush in the mountains of Winterhaven. As the party was leaving Fallcrest he could not think that something greater than chance was at work here. He had not told the party of his missing friends, that would wait until he could be sure that this group could be trusted, and after talking with Roscoe he believed that perhaps they would be visiting Winterhaven soon enough. Promises had been made to investigate the Kobalds and try and find the dragonhide. He wrote two quick letters, one to his employer and one to his family, letting the one know his gold was safe in Winterhaven, and his family that he had perhaps found something high in the Cairngorm Peaks, spiraling up towards Kazadarum. Until the past few weeks, Owengar had not put much thought into myth, children’s tales, or fate. Now they dominated his thinking.
1 Players Guide to the Wilderlands, pg. 22©Necromancer Games & Judges Guild.fn2. See “Nentir Vale” map on “maps” link©Wizards of the Coast.fn3. “Nentir Vale” map on “maps” link©Wizards of the Coast.