About Balgrim ForgeswornStats:
Balgrim Forgesworn Dwarf Warpriest Torag L/G HP 77 / 77 (56 lvl, +14 Con, +7 FC) AC 22 Touch 11 Flat-Footed 21 Armor Check -5 Init +1 Speed 20ft Str 19 (16 base, +2 belt, +1 4th)
Fort +9 (+4 vs spells/poison)
BAB +5 (+7/+2 SW)
+2 Greatsword +14/+7 (2d6+14/19-20x2)
Traits : Artisan, Inspired (1 / 1) Feats : Weapon Focus(Greatsword), Steel Soul, Power Attack, Furious Focus, Craft Magic Arms and Armor, Cleave, Blind-Fight, +1 teamwork
Sacred Weapon +1 : 7 / 7 rounds/day, swift
Skills : Ranks (14 Level)
Languages : Common, Dwarven Spells : DC 13+spell level Concentration +10
Gear :
Total Weight : 101.5lb
PP - 0, GP -3300 , SP - , CP - 23500
+2 Greatsword (crafted)
Backstory:
Balgrim worked the bellows at his forge, offering advice as one of his apprentices worked at the forge itself. Darmyr was becoming quite skilled in his own right, so Balgrim's mind was free to wander. Some days it was hard to believe it had been nearly two decades since he had left the church of Torag.
Balgrim had been one of the churches fiercest crusaders from a young age, charging at the front to deliver Torag's will wherever he was needed. As the years passed however he became increasingly unsure as to what the Father's will truly was. Torag had always been a distant god, the church following the teachings he had laid down in ancient times with little direct influence from their god. This had never sat well with Balgrim and he wondered, just as forged steel corroded with time, if the direction of his faithful had been similarly corrupted? The high priests told him to look within for answers and the true path would be revealed to him. Balgrim tried but no matter how hard he searched, the certainty he craved continued to elude him. Torag reached his breaking point while warring with a band of troglodytes in the dark caverns beneath the Five Kings Mountains. The conflict had raged for months but dwarven forces had finally crushed the trogs and driven the remnants of their army back to the cavern city they called home. While their enemy was beaten and the immediate threat ended, Torag's teaching were clear. No enemy shall be suffered to live. The High Defender ordered the city destroyed and all of it's inhabitants put to axe and hammer so they might never again rise to threaten the church's peace. Balgrim challenged the order, uncertain that such wholesale slaughter was really their god's will. His concerns were summarily overruled and faced with no alternative, Balgrim carried out his orders, laying waste to the trog city. After the battle he was wracked with doubt. Sequestering himself, Balgrim prayed to Torag for a sign, any sign that his actions were justified and he had made the right choice. To his dismay, the Father of Creation remained silent, either unable to hear his pleas of heedless of them. After a week Balgrim collapsed of exhaustion and prayed no more. As soon as he had recovered, he left his warhammer and the church itself behind him. He felt as though his god had failed him, and so he would live his life free from worship. The years that immediately followed his break from the church were not not kind to Balgrim, he drank heavily and tried to come to terms with the loss his life had suffered. Eventually though Balgrim was able to pick up the pieces and move on with his life, the change having much to do with meeting his future wife Tira. Newly married and faithless, he fell back on the one thing in his life he could be certain of, good steel. Like nearly all members of Torag's priesthood, Balgrim was a fair hand at the forge and so he set up shop as a blacksmith in a small village, throwing himself into the craft. Watching Darmyr sculpt the blade of a new dagger, Balgrim smiled at all he had achieved in the last fourteen years. His forge was the most prominent in the surrounding region, work was steady and profitable and he had three eager young apprentices who were learning quickly. He and Tira had a modest home, his son Orvin was a bright eyed eight year old and Tira was pregnant with their second child. He had found peace here. A sharp cry broke through his consciousness, a sound filled with terror and pain. Horns of warning soon followed the cry, reverberating in the surrounding mountains. Balgrim soon understood the source of both and a pair of orc warriors rounded the path near his forge, their weapons shining with fresh blood. Calling for his apprentices to run, Balgrim took up his hammer from the nearby anvil. On instinct he reached out for the power of Torag to bolster himself and was struck as if anew with the realization that their was nothing there, there had not been for a very long time. In his moment of hesitation the orc warriors had closed the distance between them and unleashed a screaming assault on Balgrim. The dwarven smith fought with all his experience but without the divine power that had bolstered him in his warrior days the orcs overcame him quickly. Severely wounded, Balgrim was left for dead, only faintly aware of the desperate screams that reached his ears. As he lay there breathing faintly, Balgrim drifted into a dreamlike state and for the first time in his near century of life felt the divine attention of Torag. He saw the father of creation at his celestial forge, saw him labor as he crafted the world itself. Through the sparks and heat he saw the creation of the first dwarves, the birth of his race and all at once he understood. The other gods labored to guide their followers, Torag did not for his labor had been completed long ago. In each and every dwarf from the founding of his race, Torag had placed a spark of his will, deep in their core. The will of Torag beat fiercely, deep in the heart of all dwarvenkind, they need only reach out and embrace it to understand his mind. This was the simple secret that had eluded him for so long. Balgrim did not know how long he lay their, his own blood pooling around him. When he did finally awake, it was dark and he was as weak as a newborn child. Stumbling through the village, he saw only fire and death. Reaching his home, Balgrim's heart lurched, the outer area was burnt to cinders and of the rooms build into the rock, little was left but ash and stone. Little besides the seared remains of Tira and is son Orvin. Dropping to his knees, ragged tears shaking his body, Balgrim held the remains of his family until dawn broke over the mountains. Laying his family's remains to rest, Balgrim shed the last of his tears. Looking deep inside himself he found answer to what he must do next. Returning to his smithy, he dug the forge out of the charred remains of the roof where it had fallen in. The raiders had taken most of the worked metal but he found an untouched stack of ingots left by the bellows. Sparing no time, he stoked the forge and set to shaping the metal. As his hammer rose and fell, Balgrim felt the surging strength of Torag return to him, pouring through him, lending strength and bending the metal to his will readily. The power filled him until he felt near to bursting, creeping into the hole where his family had resided and bolstering his spirit. Time was lost of the heat and the steady blows of his hammer. Balgrim labored solid for a fortnight, neither eating nor sleeping, the strength of Torag sustaining him. When he finally set down his hammer, Balgrim looked at his accomplishments. Unlike the traditional hammer of Torag, he stared at a wide greatsword, as tall as he, the words of the holy Hammer and Tongs inscribed the length of the blade. The hammer was a tool of dual nature, capable of creation as well and great destruction. This was a weapon of war and vengeance alone. One to halt his enemies and ensure no tragedy such as had befallen his village would be endured by those he protected. He dubbed the weapon "Vigilance" for it would stand ever ready to defend against the enemies of the dwarves. The sword was only half of his creation however. He had also crafted a heavy set of plate armor, similarly crafted with the writings of Torag such that Balgrim might channel Torag's might directly though both. Strapping the heavy armor to his body, he named the armor "Loyalty" for with it he would stand in the defense of Torag long after all others had fallen. Taking up vigilance he reached set out secure in the belief that the spark of Torag would guide his path.
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