Dran Cragback

failed prospector and doomed dwarf


After nearly a century away from his home in Kalsgard, Cragback longs for normal weather and decent beer. He’s spent the last five decades crawling all over the Five Kings mountains, seeking lucrative veins of viridium, gold, silver, or mithral, and fighting the foul things that crawl among the ruins of the lost Citadels. A fierce traditionalist, he carries his dorn-dergar with pride and always prefers the traditional weapons of his folk: the axe, the hammer, the pick. Taciturn in the extreme, he has become more and more inured to his own death until now the idea barely fazes him; rock-slides, duergar cannibals, and contracting viridium fever will do that to a dwarf.

If closely queried about his traveling, the most response one can hope for is a muttered “I have business in the North,” spoken in an Irriseni accent thick enough to spread onto bread, while clutching a long string of rough stone beads.

Dran Cragback

Pathfinder: Reign of Winter robosnake Monty