Kraggur

Kraggur Kveldcharn
Status
Race	Dwarf
Gender	Male
Guild	Moon Mage
Instance	Prime

Basics

Appearance

Kraggur is known for his deeply-set grey eyes, the storm within often cleared by his hearty laugh. His open face is yet unlined by the hardship or years he has lived, although a great portion of it is covered by his long beard. A tribal tattoo of a golden hawk, wings spread wide, stretches across the potion of his face not covered by his beard. Thick golden brown hair covers his head and is kept tied back and away from his eyes. Long years spent working have toned his body to a burly build not often seen on a mage.

Personality

Kraggur is slow to anger except when he percieves injustice, particularly slavery, or anything approximating slavery. He does enjoy tossing good-natured barbs at people, mainly to see how they react. However, he does not take slights to his abilities well at all, though he is quick to forgive if the person who slights him corrects their position. Peace and stability are two things treasured by Kraggur and he has been known to threaten busting heads when his meditations are disrupted.

Current

• Hosting an ongoing series of meetings with the newly minted "Council of Forfedhdar". Some call this madness, others say his activity was nothing short of inspiration.

A Runic Parchment

Kraggur's notes and meanderings. An assorted account and collection of interesting details Kraggur has come across.

Notable Items

a pale moonsilk robe with a silver and sunstone belt-clasp

The pale blue material is woven of stone-washed raw silk, creating a heavy fabric with a lush sheen. Darkened bracers feature images of Xibar in various phases and hold the robe firmly to the forearm when worn. Dulled silver ravens and copper wolves edge the hem of the garment. The highly polished silver belt-clasp forms the shape of a mountain, with a raven whose wings are outspread. The raven clasps a sunstone scroll with writing upon it.

A pale moonsilk robe reads: "Kraggur Kveldcharn, Nenavskan"

a long carving knife etched with lunar symbols

The stars of Kertigen's constellation, the Raven, are etched onto one side of the blade. Opposite the stars are a series of animals following a trail of runes, all set in copper. Raven wings sweep up from the hilt to form a hand guard, while the feet clasp a sunstone scroll.

The Pillar of Kraggur

Six aspects are carved into the granite pillar.

The name “Kraggur” is carved into the base of the pillar as the first aspect, with “Kraggath-mag, Kreggath-mag, Kreggur-mag” cut underneath it.

Above the name is a raven circling a mountain peak, the sun rising high above it, forming the second aspect

The third aspect is the lunar symbol for the evening star. The carving is fairly primitive, but a more sophisticated image of a nightingale has been added, the evening star serving as its eye.

A blank spot has been left for the fourth aspect.

Fifth is an intricately carved open book, resting atop a pile of scrolls.

The sixth, and final aspect, is a raven, symbolized in three ways: first is a carving of a raven; second are holes drilled forming the constellation of the raven; third is the lunar sigil for the raven.

History

Vitals

You were born on the 16th day of the 5th month of Uthmor the Giant in the year of the Golden Panther, 338 years after the victory of Lanival the Redeemer.

Adventures

• Serving as watch captain for the Raven's Brigade (393AV - ??? AV)
• Ascended the Hag's Crag in search of clues regarding High Priestess Denizelva's disappearance
• Assisted Handmaiden Amaldriel and the Ilithians in improving the Gorbesh Fort triage area
• Formed the Council of Forfedhdar to deal with day to day affairs in the Province
• Established a network of informants to observe Veyne
• Was one of the first to alert the Crossing when Dragon Priest moongates were generated during the Dragon Priest War

Brief History

• Descended from the Gemfire Dwarves
• Enslaved by Velakan Slavers
• Became a Nomad, learned freedom
• Moved to Ratha, established network to observe Veyne
• Relocated to Forfedhdar
• 393AV, 30th day of Nissa - Recognized as an Animist

Ancestors

• Kraggath Silfarshal - Father
• Kreggath Silfarshal - Grandfather
• Kreggur Silfarshal - Great-grandfather

Childhood

Long have the people of my line dwelt in what was once a remote mining outpost of the Dwarven Empire now contracted to the areas of Forfedhar and the capital city of Hibarnhvidar. As the might of the Empire receded in the face of other challenges, my kin remained in their outpost, mining and trading with the nearby human settlements of Fornsted and Therenborough. However, a protracted series of raids over the course of centuries reduced the kin in my family’s holding down to a handful. In the last six decades we dwindled to merely my mother, father, and, upon my birth, myself.

In my third and thirtieth year, disaster struck my family. We were following a vein when an earthquake occurred, dropping a reinforcing beam on my father’s leg. While my mother and I were able to free him, the leg was amputated. Things went by for several years, but eventually my father died from the strain working in such conditions without a leg. My mother followed him shortly into the grave at that point. Being some forty and one years of age, hardly more than a youth with a beard, I packed what limited supplies I could carry, collapsed an escape route behind me, and turned to wandering.

Such it was that I turned up several weeks later in the hands of human slavers operating from the wastelands between Langenfirth and Muspari’i.

Life as a Slave

For five long years I toiled under the hardship of forced servitude crafting minor trinkets for that rabble scum. Yes, it turned me stronger, harder, and more disciplined than I had ever been in my life. Yes, I learned again the names of stars, moons, and sun. But I was not free. Never again shall I live in shackles or allow any other to suffer in any guise of slavery again in my sight, hearing, or knowledge. Well do I understand the souls of the Kaldar and let me name them first as friend who hold strongly to that tenet.

Worst of the disgraces I suffered at that time was the ritual shearing of my beard. I believe it was not only an attempt to cow myself but also those other slaves they ruled over. Instead it fueled the quiet flames of my rage into a slowly burning inferno. Nothing, not even Kertigen himself, stands in an enraged dwarf’s path and lives.

It was my sixth and fortieth year of age when my anger exploded. Along with the day I sealed the family mine it is burned into my memory. I was working at a forge crafting more of the trinkets the slavers wanted for market – bracelets, rings, and so forth – when a slaver band rode into camp dragging an elvish lass behind them. It was the first time I had ever met a woman other than my mother. Perhaps the color of her hair reminded me of my mothers, or maybe the color of her skin. Regardless, the fires I had been building inside for half a decade flared to life.

Almost a Ranger

It was a long month’s journey through snow, sleet and rain, across open plains and volcanic valleys before I found myself at the fallen northern gate of the River Crossing. Spring was rapidly approaching, yet I found myself weary from the long journey from northern climates. It was with both gladness and trepidation that I found myself entering a city of such magnitude. Surely nothing to compare with the wonders of the halls I walked when they were in their more glorious days, but for the populations I had been directly exposed to it was enormous. Glad was I when I stumbled my way towards a gated area with a journeyman cloaked in drab colors and leaning upon a staff. Entering the gate, with a suspicious glare from the journeyman, I found myself in a wooded area set aside from the bustle of the city. A number of weather-hardened folk were in this area doing various tasks from weapons training to mending worn garb. At one end lay a hall with statues out front, yet I found that I had not the heart to pass them into the building, even though I felt more comfortable here than in the areas passed in my earlier sojourn.

Becoming a Moon Mage

After several more days thought I traveled out the East Gate of the River Crossing and followed the path to the Observatory. Upon reaching the top, a task I will let others discover the doings of, I met a frightening man by the name of Kssarh T’rinnirii, a man whom I called master and trained under for many moons. Needless to say I trained, learned to hunt the hob, gifar, and other manner of creature, all the while toiling under Kssarh’s yoke and stern ways. Yet after two years and many adventures, including trying to teleport to a beam after it had set, I was finally elevated by Kssarh himself to the status of Moon Mage. I had passed the ranks of Novice, Apprentice, and Journeyman to become a fully-fledged member of my guild. With the new degree of freedom allowed, I was finally allowed to leave from under Kssarh’s stern emerald gaze. I was now forty and nine years in age.

Nomad

I wandered in the Dragon Spine mountains for a time...

In one frightening encounter I entered a cave and prepared to settle down when a gargoyle ambushed me and sundered my shield. I fled into the storm holding my broken arm close to my body, most of my supplies abandoned to the creature. Fate was with me that day though, for in my stumbling I came across human spoor that the snows had yet to eradicate. Following the tracks, I at last stumbled upon their encampment, where I was directed to the white yurt.

Within the tent I met a person in visage truly worth the title of ‘ancient’. Under his tutelage I learned the crafts of the wild. Hunting creatures for their meat and furs, how to silently approach my prey, the woodland and mountain herbs, and other skills critical to living in the wilderness. As I look back upon these times, they are some of my fondest memories, living on the edge of death from day to day. It is when I finally cast off the last spiritual shackles from my imprisonment, my parents’ death, loss of our familial hold, and learned again how to live.

Ultimately I learned what the word freedom, saarnur in Haakish, truly meant. It is not the right to do what one wills, or what one wants, but the ability to live truly in the moment with neither the past nor the future limiting ones actions. Yet for me, it also is a hatred of the forces and actions which constrain ones spirit so they cannot experience saarnur themselves. For long ago I suffered without freedom, bound to another’s will, and I will never countenance it again so long as my mind still inhabits my body.

It was when I returned from a foray back to the encampment, and met again with the ancient shaman of the tribe, that he took me aside and bade me leave as a proud Nomad, or ‘Dan gwen tage’ as they are called in my language. He gave me a carving I still bear. It has a series of small blue animals etched into the carving. I also received a fantastic angiswaerd tooth knife carved with symbols sacred to the Tribes, a ceremonial robe embroidered with symbols in silver, and a magnificent cloak of fine wool bearing other sacred symbols. Wrapping them in my pack, I gave the man whom I had trained under for half a year a tight hug, and then left the tent.

Forfedhdar

Coming Soon