HOME | DD

Description
A digital rework of this old fella: www.deviantart.com/d3-arts/art…

Born of the Deepwood Dwarves - a somewhat obscure and reclusive bunch, young Brodvar was taught much in the ways of the wilds, animals, herbology and the druidic arts. Unlike most of his kin however, was quite the outgoing and talkative type. As such, he could never sit still enough to become one with nature, as was expected of any good Deepwood Dwarf. This pushed him to leave his home and travel the wide open world. In his long travels, Brodvar learned much of the nature of the different races and peoples, yet never forgot his roots. He delved deep into the wilds, studying all manner of plants, animals, beasts and the like. His favorite of earth's creatures were birds, whose language he mastered.

During his travels, Brodvar found a wounded raven and nurtured it back to health. The bird followed him around and so became his trusty companion. He named it Chirp and the two became inseparable.

Brodvar grew into a stout dwarf; one of a jolly, humble and steadfast nature. In his own words, he is here to help those in need of it - be that with words or deeds. Yet true to his humble character, he took little credit for his deeds, and so - in a strange way, echoed his kindred's reclusive nature.

After years of roaming the wide world, an aged Brodvar returns home to find his kinsman gone without a trace; their huts reduced to rubble, the trees stained with blood and scarred by fire, the sacred groves despoiled, and the Deepwood silent as a crypt. Amid the rubble and scorched earth, he found a small, silver chain necklace - unfamiliar and strange in shape. Questions filled his mind, and answers were as absent as his kin.

Communing with the spirits proved useless, for they too were gone. However, a few small birds hiding in the rubble answered the questions burning on his lips. They knew little and saw even less, but it was just enough to give him a lead. With a heavy heart and tears running down his cheeks, Brodvar performed a cleansing ritual over his beloved home. He said his farewell, and hastened south and out of the woods with Chirp flying close behind, racing towards the small town of Phandalin.

As the sun rose over the horizon, he swore to find his kinsfolk, or avenge them.

Description
A digital rework of this old fella: www.deviantart.com/d3-arts/art…

Born of the Deepwood Dwarves - a somewhat obscure and reclusive bunch, young Brodvar was taught much in the ways of the wilds, animals, herbology and the druidic arts. Unlike most of his kin however, was quite the outgoing and talkative type. As such, he could never sit still enough to become one with nature, as was expected of any good Deepwood Dwarf. This pushed him to leave his home and travel the wide open world. In his long travels, Brodvar learned much of the nature of the different races and peoples, yet never forgot his roots. He delved deep into the wilds, studying all manner of plants, animals, beasts and the like. His favorite of earth's creatures were birds, whose language he mastered.

During his travels, Brodvar found a wounded raven and nurtured it back to health. The bird followed him around and so became his trusty companion. He named it Chirp and the two became inseparable.

Brodvar grew into a stout dwarf; one of a jolly, humble and steadfast nature. In his own words, he is here to help those in need of it - be that with words or deeds. Yet true to his humble character, he took little credit for his deeds, and so - in a strange way, echoed his kindred's reclusive nature.

After years of roaming the wide world, an aged Brodvar returns home to find his kinsman gone without a trace; their huts reduced to rubble, the trees stained with blood and scarred by fire, the sacred groves despoiled, and the Deepwood silent as a crypt. Amid the rubble and scorched earth, he found a small, silver chain necklace - unfamiliar and strange in shape. Questions filled his mind, and answers were as absent as his kin.

Communing with the spirits proved useless, for they too were gone. However, a few small birds hiding in the rubble answered the questions burning on his lips. They knew little and saw even less, but it was just enough to give him a lead. With a heavy heart and tears running down his cheeks, Brodvar performed a cleansing ritual over his beloved home. He said his farewell, and hastened south and out of the woods with Chirp flying close behind, racing towards the small town of Phandalin.

As the sun rose over the horizon, he swore to find his kinsfolk, or avenge them.