A surly but deeply caring dwarf who can't seem to figure out what to do with his mindblade
HP: 14 AC: 19 (13 touch, 16 flat footed) Init: +5 Gold: 119
Another boring night with nothing to kill. How’s a dwarf to become a legend when beasts don’t come out for a fight? The midnight watch always disappoints. Its never a full nights’ sleep. Ever since the Halfling twins woke me, I’ve been grumpier than usual. Well at least the odd warmage is up on watch next. She’ll make sure none of us miss a fight if one comes later.
Before I settled down to sleep, I turned and scoffed at the halfling twins, tossing and turning and all but whimpering in their sleep. I layed my head down and sleep took me over at once. I dreamt of battling undead and other demons. I dreamt of epic battles and victories over powerful foes, of returning to my homeland with stories of heroic deeds and treasures from your conquests. A fine dwarven dream if there ever was one.
After a time I realized my dream had changed. I was in the midst of a large room with bodies scattered around me. All at once the bodies rose and mounted a charge against me led by a large warrior wearing an ornate crown. Just before his sword sank into my skull, everything faded out except the crown which had begun to glow brightly.
Suddenly, I snapped awake to the screaming of my companions next to me…