About Barik Everast
‘Optimism may not solve all your problems, but it annoys the clan Elders enough to be worthwhile.’
BACKGROUND
Barik was born some decades ago in the Golushkin mountains and has always known Brevoy as home, both underground and overland. His zest for life and enjoyment of company and new experiences led to him very swiftly becoming one of his clan’s representatives for whenever trade and travel were required.
Ten years ago however, his life took a much darker turn when the Vanishing occurred – while Barik didn’t care so much about the disappearance of the human rulers of the land, the loss of the ancient dwarf-holds was a bitter blow. While he enjoyed travelling, there is a difference between voluntary and forced exile. After a decade, and several fruitless attempts to dig through, he now truly understands the phrase “you can’t go home again.”
Never one to dwell too deeply on his misfortune, he has done his best to thrive on his own, building up a reputation as a reliable merchant whose wares are good and whose word is reliable. It was on his travels through Brevoy about three months ago that he encountered Allandír - although the two of them have little in common, they both recognised that shared sense of loss within the other and have struck up a friendship, with the more outgoing Barik encouraging the withdrawn elf not to venture so deeply into his introversion that he cannot then get out again. When Allandír suggested that the two of them seek the Swordlords’ charter, Barik readily agreed: as a merchant he has much to gain from the eradication of banditry from the Stolen Lands; and as a vagabond in permanent exile, it would be good to build somewhere he can call home once again.
DESCRIPTION
Barik is youthful, by dwarven standards, and his auburn hair and beard lack even the slightest trace of grey. The misfortune he has faced in the last decade has failed to tame his sunny disposition and he remains almost obnoxiously cheerful regardless of circumstances. His travels and his trade in various goods have also given him a taste for tobacco: even on the rare occasions where he is not puffing on a pipe, his fingers have the tinge of nicotine on them and his clothing has the distinctive aroma of pipe-smoke. Friendly and gregarious, he always has a pipe or two to share around.
