Reluctant Dwarven Cleric


Last Will and Testament of Rogar Grimhammer

I, Rogar Grimhammer, being of sound mind and body, do hearby testify this to be the true and final wishes in the case of my untimely death while assisting my fool grand-nephew in his misguided quest to reclaim his family’s lost kingdom. This document renders null and void any previous documents, and shall remain in effect in prepetuity, or until superceded by a subsequent missive.

To my dear wife Maderia, I leave all of our shared property, cash savings, and personal possessions that remain in our dwelling. She is to have full control and dispensation for these resources, with the following exceptions:

  1. Those items and valuables present on my person at the time of my demise shall be passed to my grand-nephew, Palin, to dispense or use as he sees fit.
  2. Under no circumstances are my wife, younger siblings, children, grandchildren, or great-grandchildren to provide material or personal assistance to Palin’s fool quest.
  3. A sum of one hundred gold is to be set aside to be set aside for the child known as Nikin Blackhand, to be used for entry into any apprenticeship, teaching or other program that he should wish to pursue for his own betterment. If the lad should choose to not pursue such an opportunity, he is to be given one quarter of this total for his own use, with the remainder to be passed to the Lowertown Orphanage in his name.

Completed this fourteenth day of the month of Deepwinter in the one hundred and twenty third day of the reign of King Forgath the Virtuous.

Rogar Grimhammer

Witnessed by Kareth Moorcloak, High Cleric of Moradin

Escape Artist:
Gather Info:
Knowledge [Arcana]:
Move Silently:
Sense Motive:
Use Rope:
4’ 2"
137 lb
Languages: Dwarven, Common, Goblin, Giant
Hit Points:
Warhammer +1
Light Crossbow*
1d6 + 1
1d8 + 2
19 x2

Shield, heavy wood
Racial Abilities
Darkvision 60’
Stonecunning: bonus to notice stone structure details
Weapon familiarity (dwarven weapons)
Stability: + 4 to many checks when on the ground
+ 2 saves vs poison, spells and spell-like abilities
+ 1 attack vs orcs and goblinoids
+ 4 dodge AC vs giants
+ 2 appraise and + 2 craft for stone/metal items
Class Abilities
Turn Undead: 5/day (+ 2 on Turning Checks due to 5 ranks in Religion)
Spontaneous Casting: Cure spells
Moradin’s Blessing: 1/day, + 3 Str/Con/Dex for 5 + level rnds, fatigued 1 min/rnd
Earth Domain: turn Air creatures as Undead (5/day)
Protection Domain: 1/day, Give resistance bonus = Cleric level for one use
Connected: + 10 contacts, + 1 diplomacy checks
Endurance: + 4 to multiple checks, sleep in med/heavy armor
0 1st 2nd 3rd 4th 5th 6th 7th 8th 9th
Spells 5 4+1 3+1 2+1
   Trail rations (2 days)
   Flint & Steel
   50’ hemp rope
   Map case
      5 sheets parchment
   Ink vial
Wooden holy symbol
Spell component pouch
Belt Pouch
Wand of Cure Light Wounds (50)
Healer’s Kit (10)
Healer’s Kit (10)
Holy Water (4)
Acid (4)
Alchemist’s Fire (3)
Personal Cash Savings (Madiera) Church Donations City Donations
108.6 gp 2225 gp 533 gp 533 gp
Contact Loyalty Resources
Ingra Grimhammer
    Sister, non-commissioned guardswoman
4 2
    Street urchin informant. Contact during Rogar’s guard years, the dwarven child knows the streets of Iron Forge
1 1
Erebus Kranstone III
    Banker, noble, snob. Self-absorbed rich man, often used to track down money trails and suspicious activity
1 4
Morrick van Gruber
    Half-elf fence, small time thug. Self-interested, small time crook, used to track down stolen goods
1 3
Dared Margran
    Bartender, gambler. Owns and operates the Bleeding Granite, favourite pub for Guardsmen
1 2
Goswick the Gray
    Human street magician. Loony adept with minor ability but some knowledge of the activities of magical society
2 1
Korak Grimhammer
    Son, Guard officer, killed by aberrations while investigating the Church
5 2

My Old Friend:

I do hope this letter finds you hale, hearty, and flush with victory on a hard fought campaign. I have been most neglectful in replying to your letter, but as you shall see, there had been much to occupy my mind.

My parents remain well, despite their advanced years, although my father’s mind isn’t what it once was. Mother struggles to control his fits, and more than once we had to send the boys around to hold him down until he came to his senses. Too many clubs to the head during his days as a guardsman on the beat, what? Still, strong man, never let himself go soft after getting his officer’s commission. And steered me on the straight and narrow as well. Never had much option but the guards, what with him as Captain at the time.

My older brother passed on a few years ago, succumbed to the Rot during the last big outbreak and was never the same after that. Oh, he recovered in the most part, but each passing winter took more of a toll on his aging body until he had no fight left in him. Ah, poor Firos…if only he was more like the demigod he was named for…

My sister Ingra is still in the Guard, still complaining about the rules, and still getting busted back to enlisted ranks every time she makes a name for herself. She’ll be lucky to make Lieutenant before she has to retire. And no, she hasn’t asked after you.

And Gargel? Well, the runt took off on some hair-brained expedition over two years ago, following some fool gnome with promises of “riches beyond your wildest dreams”. Left his wife and daughter behind to fend for themselves, not that Giri isn’t more than capable of looking after herself. Still, he should know better. I suppose age doesn’t necessarily mean wise. Runs in his family too. His fool daughter fell in love with one of the Stonebringer clan, ran off to get married against Father’s wishes. Lucky for her that he’s now too addled to disown her, especially after her fool husband got himself killed and their son Palin grew up a worthless street bagger.

Madiera is well, and sends her best wishes. Yes, she still makes the best mushroom cobbler in Iron Forge. And no, I’m not going to send you any. You’ll just have to come for a visit if you want a slice. My dear wife has been keeping my time filled since I retired, doing chores and catching up on the work that we never had time for when I was in the Guard. That is, until the recent nonsense…more about that later.

My eldest son Korak is well, made a name for himself during the Incursion a few years back, probably make Captain soon. A father couldn’t be more proud. Married a fine girl, given me three fine grandchildren and even a great-grand-daughter now.

Kirie has also fared well, even though she went and married an Army man (at least he’s an officer) and their two boys look to be starting off fine careers in the military.

The youngest, Brogan, finally let that chip on his shoulder get the better of him; been in prison now for seven years, for murder. Claims he didn’t do it, but when has anyone ever said anything different after getting caught, what? Always railed against being “forgotten”. Well, won’t be forgotten now, eh?

As for myself, you’ve no doubt heard that I retired two years ago, after the Incursions were dealt with. Go out on a high note, what? Did the best I could to leave the Guard in better shape than when I inherited the command. Hardly could do worse with the lax state everything was in when Parvind finally drank himself to death. Didn’t make many friends during those years, but by the gods, they were a right proper Guard when I was finished with them. Wouldn’t have kept Iron Forge together during the Incursion without the discipline of the Guards, I tell you. Just hope that Nurban doesn’t let it all go pear-shaped now that he’s in charge.

Yes, retired. I know, I find it hard to believe as well. But these bones aren’t as young as they used to be. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I could still take you with one arm strapped behind my back, but sitting at a desk for 12 hours a day, listening to pointless reports from young lieutenants that wouldn’t know their ass from a hole in the ground? No, Maddie was right, it was time for us to have some time for ourselves and family. Spent most of our savings renovating the old place, putting in a workshop for me, and new gardens for her. All ready for the nice, quiet, golden years.

And then the damn gods stuck their noses in it.

Don’t get me wrong. You know I’ve always been careful about the proper rituals and forms. Prayers to Moradin when prescribed. Offerings on the holy days. But you know as well as I do; those overfed, underworked priests in the temples wouldn’t know a real miracle if it sat up and bit them in their dimpled asses.

But there I was, out in the bazaar, buying mushrooms for Maddie, when this crazy old human steps in front of me and starts babbling about “Moradin’s choice”. Some poppycock about a prophecy that the “King shall return” and “Sacrificing all for a lost clan”. I honestly don’t remember most of it, as I was more interested in getting away from the crazy old bat. When I finally got past her, she yelled something about “Moradin’s blessing will save the child” before I got out of earshot.

I didn’t think much of it until a few days later when I was coming back from a night out with the boys from the Guard. Down an alleyway, a local kid was cornered by a couple of goblins who must have come in through the sewers. When I stepped in, the little bastards turned on me, instead of running in fear like they usually do. Well, buggered if I don’t feel this sudden surge of strength, like I’m only 150 again, and dropped the two greenskins without even breaking a sweat.

Well, it was later that night when I woke up from a deep sleep to find a vision of Moradin himself in my room. I know what you’re thinking, too much to drink, but you know I’ve never let myself get that cockeyed. Standing there, plain as day, Moradin tells me that he has “chosen” me for a “special quest”. Well, I just put it down to another bad dream, and went back to sleep.

But sure enough, at daybreak, who’s at my door? None other than Garrick Gleamstone, the church prelate, expecting me to come with him to the temple for “training”. Well, two weeks later, and I’m probably the oldest anointed acolyte the damn place has ever seen.

And so here I am, 232 years old, and about to set off on some damn fool adventure that involves my good-for-nothing slacker grand-nephew Palin, a motley group of would-be heroes, and a bloody church that somehow thinks it needs a tired old Guardsman to carry out Moradin’s will.

Gods help Moradin when he tells Maddie that our “golden years” are postponed, because I’m bloody well not going to do it!

Hope this finds you well. I shall endeavor to keep in touch as best I can.

Your old friend,
Brigadier Rogar Grimhammer, ODE, VC (Retired)



Palin's Quest DSMfive