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Status: Alive
Guild: Ranger
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Location: Blackthorn Canyon (Ranik Map 68a)
Type: shopowner

Brent is the owner of the Old Mine, a tavern in Blackthorn Canyon.


A generous ale-stained white goatee and round apple-red cheeks accentuate the mature Human ranger's wide grin. A foraging apron tied around his belly rides well above the waistline of sagging deerskin breeches that allow too much of him to peek above it when he leans over the ale keg. His voice is like gravel, though there can be a warm tone to it at times, and a cigar swings mechanically from his lower lip when he talks. Brent speaks to everyone as though he's known them for years, and in many cases, he has.

Conversation Topics

Shifting his great weight slightly in the chair, Brent says, "He's our Last and a damn fine ranger." He points a thick finger towards the north, "Those defenses ever fall, and he'll make a new wall of blasted rock. That ranger's sittin' on enough naptha to bring half the Stormfells down into this canyon."
  • About Fenhalut (if you are an Emerald Knight):
Brent smiles and says, "Good folk! They're some of the best paladins and rangers you'll find in these parts. I worked scoutin' for um m'self as a lad." He claps you amiably on the shoulder and places an ale in your hand, "Good to see you workin' the Wall."
Brent glances around quickly for prying ears before leaning in and whispering, "Ask him the right questions and keep your ears open. He ain't the Watch for no reason."
Brent grunts and looks away, then chuckles slightly. "That pencil-neck keeps things running over there, but he wouldn't last a heartbeat in a fight. Waste of plate right there."
Brent raises a thick white eyebrow in your direction and asks, "Whozat?"
Chuckling, Brent says, "Yeah, she's the lass up at the Reach. Grimnur can't stop talkin' about her after he's had a few."
"Oh sure," Brent nods, "That's just up the eastern side of the Stormfells." He adds with a wink, "Course I hope you brought climbin' boots."
Brent's jovially red-hued cheeks pale noticeably as he confides in you, "It is a terrible, terrible place born of injustice and imbalance. Should you continue on your chosen path, if you are able, you carry the hope of the realms, lad."
Brent chuckles, "Shadow Clan? Oh, yeah I heard of um. I also heard of flying pigs and Gnomes twenty hands tall..." People immediately surrounding you chortle and begin to laugh.
  • About ale:
Brent grins broadly at you, his red cheeks growing round and hiding his eyes entirely. "Well you found the right place to ask, sir! You see, on one end you got your pale beers and lagers, but they're a bit hoppy for my taste. Then you got your ales, from pale to cream, but a good nut-brown's best to my likin'." Brent considers a moment before continuing apologetically, "Oh, 'course a porter or a solid stout's always nice, but hard to wield a sword after a few of um." Pausing, he asks, "Care to buy a drink, sir?"