Dagna Sparkhammer's page

Dagnar Sparkhammer had desired a son, but he did not let his disappointment stop him from naming his daughter after himself. Like most dwarves born in Torch, Dagna was destined to become a blacksmith. Had her mother not died in labor, her father might have forgiven her for being a girl. Even so, someone had to carry on the family tradition, and so at the earliest age she could hold a hammer, Dagna became her father’s apprentice. A great deal of mutual resentment existed between the two, but if there were two things that they could bond over, it was their love of the forge, and their faith in the Father of Creation.

As Dagna grew closer to adulthood, her father started to fall into a deep depression. Their years of constant quarreling came to a gradual end, but so too did any semblance of a connection between them. Dagnar threw himself into his work, and shut himself off from everything else. Only months later he perished at the Torch, vaporized by one of its occasional flare ups. Dagna was all but certain that he had quite intentionally worked himself to death, but having never seen her mother’s face, she could not piece together why.

There was any number of blacksmiths in Torch that Dagna could have completed her apprenticeship under, but in her father’s memory, she wished to refine her skills on her own. Instead, in a bid to expand her horizons, she apprenticed herself to a wizard, one Khonnir Baine. As it so happened, she possessed a sharp, focused mind, ideal for retaining the arcane arts. Khonnir taught her what he could, but it quickly became evident that she had no true aspirations for wizardry. Instead, what she had sought was an alternative means of perfecting her craft. The two parted ways amicably, and with her focus no longer split, Dagna devoted all of her attention to her smithing.

On the third anniversary of her father’s death, Dagna set up shop by the Torch and worked a piece of raw skymetal. Though she no longer had a master to say so, few smiths could deny that this was her rite of passage. She forged for herself a small hammer, a symbol of her faith, and a promise to continue improving her craft. However, no sooner did she make future plans to use the Torch than the forge abruptly went out. Troubled by the implications of the extinguished Torch, Dagna has been hard at work forging a new piece - a weapon with which she can protect her hometown.

Rarely seen out of her apron and gloves, Dagna is a tad pretty, if one looks past the soot that perpetually clings to her face. Ever since she accidentally lit her hair ablaze as a youth, she has kept it tied back and at a manageable length. Foreign to the prospect of adventuring, she wears an outfit one might expect of a commoner, while donning the chain shirt she crafted underneath.