Dwunderbran Vulgarbeard's page

The giant grunted, growled, and cursed, spitting spurts of blood and bile from its two heads as the dwarven lass's blade gained further purchase within its innards. Her face remained expressionless as stone as she gave the weapon a final, brutal twist, and the ettin pitched forward into a steep incline of shale and rock. As the creature's chest seemed to heave its last, Dreyna Stoutbraid freed her battleaxe from the giant's guts and approached its twin heads to confirm the kill. Behind her, recovering from the blow the beast had dealt him, Drungen rose to his feet. Why they assigned such a foul-mouthed miscreant to her unit she would never understand, but Dreyna was determined to see their mission through. Satisfied with her handiwork, she turned to meet Drungen and help him up. She did not notice one of the giant's heads open an eye. She did not notice it as it brought a rock the size of a human to bear against her back. The giant mustered a weak, gurgling chuckle before it expired completely, its right and final head landing with a low thud against the stony hill that would serve as its final resting place.

Unconscious from the impact of the blow, Dreyna took several moments to recover from the ordeal; when she did, she became frantically aware of Drungen's form laying and moving atop her, the straps and armor below her waist undone and removed. Her pristine composure shattered in an instant, and a bellow of immutable rage exploded from her chest as she heaved the lunatic off of her. Terror gripped Drungen as he tried in vain to scramble away, but he was no match for Dreyna the Mountainbreaker even as injured as she was. Words failed him, not even emerging as choked grunts as the dwarven shield-maiden closed her gauntleted fists around his throat, throttling and crushing until no more life remained.

And thus, Dwunderbran was conceived. . .

. . .Dwinderbrew Vulgarbeard was the last remaining patriarch of a once proud and numerous clan of infamous warriors. The roll of centuries since the days of Tar Taargadth had not been kind to the family's line, however. The family's once legendary valor and battle lust had degraded into miserly copper pinching and competent book keeping. Warriors had turned prosperous merchants with little regard for the ideals that once defined their bloodline. Though greatness still permeated their kin in a sense. The Vulgarbeards were scrupulous merchants and artisans, paragons of their trades and possessing considerable wealth and political clout. It was no surprise when Hallas Stoutbraid, Dreyna's father, arranged for her to be wed with the prestigious Dwinderbrew Vulgarbeard. Though not an arrangement made out of romance, the two proved to be a good match, and over time they grew to respect and honor one another if not love.

Much to Dreyna's chagrin, though she loved her sons dearly, the pair never gave birth to a daughter. They were instead blessed with an abundance of boys, who numbered nine in total. It was not until Dwunderbran, their 7th son, was born that Dreyna resolved to retire formally from her post. And though there were yet two sons to come, a small rift formed between Dreyna and Dwinderbrew on the day they discovered she was with child for the seventh time. While Dwinderbrew never asked about what had happened during that mission, he was a man of keen wit and cunning; the specific details eluded him, but he knew the boy was not his. Despite this, ruining his family for the sake of his pride was something his conscience would not allow. He attempted to raise the child as his own; an endeavor that was not without failures. Dwunderbran, as they named the child, was nothing like his siblings or his parents. Impetuous, adventurous, and a trouble-maker through and through, his misbehavior caused no small amount of trouble for Dwinderbrew even up to adulthood. . .

. . .The Proving was Dwunderbran's time to prove his worth, not only to his father and siblings, but to the whole of Highhelm. Scores of youths seeking to name themselves men poured into the secured and carefully monitored vaults and tunnels near the upper reaches of the Sky Citadel's cavernous networks to hunt creatures and beasts. Those who returned with trophies were recognized by society as warriors, while those who returned in failure were forced to wait for future Provings or pursue another path in life. The dwarf that returned with the most impressive specimen would be named Champion, with praises and banquets beyond counting held in their name.

Carrying the same axe his mother had wielded in her Proving, Dwunderbran hustled through the tunnels as deep as he could, knowing full and well the choice trophies would be hidden the furthest away from the Sky Citadel. The details of what specifically happened are decidedly vague, though what is known is that a handful of dwarves did not survive the ordeal, presumably killed by an unknown intruder in that year's Proving grounds. The intruder proved to be a boon on Dwunderbran's part, and a testament to the birth of his legend. Returning to the assembly hall, bearing several cuts and bruises from his experience, Dwunderbran strode brazenly into the chamber and threw the severed head of his quarry into the middle of The Victor's Promenade: the severed head of a drow infiltrator. Dwunderbran was unanimously named Champion. It is the one moment in the dwarf's life that he can remember his father being proud of him. . .

. . .Dwunderbran's time spent among the fighting elite of Highhelm was shortlived. The young dwarf was incapable of following orders, always breaking formation as he insisted on defending their kingdom on his own terms. After being labeled a "danger to the cause" by his superiors, he was stripped of rank and discharged from service. After beating his superior officer bloody for having reported him, Dwunderbran was imprisoned, though Dwinderbrew, in a bid to save face for his family, arranged to have his raucous son temporarily exiled from Highhelm itself, in the hopes that time spent away from the place would temper his outrageous behavior. . .

. . .Living the life of a sometimes-mercenary, sometimes-pirate based out of Kerse in Druma, Dwunderbran found his way into a mercenary's guild calling themselves the Swollen Goats. Typically hired on by merchants to protect their wares by both land and sea, the guild often found themselves accepting contract work from Molthune as they plied their trade against the freedom fighters of Nirmathas. His temperament and prowess were accepted openly with The Goats, and he felt he had finally found a place for himself on Golarion. Fate had other plans in store for Dwunderbran, however, and the world at large, as the first of several calamities came to bear. It was not until the Second Earthfall that Dwunderbran felt something he had never experienced before: pangs of worry; worry for his family, and worry for his homeland. As disaster after disaster was meted out against the Inner Sea, Dwunderbran cashed out all he could from his time spent with The Swollen Goats and returned amid throngs of likeminded dwarves, arriving only to find that misfortune visited more than just the surface of The Inner Sea. A homecoming under such dire circumstances was dampened at best, though his brothers and mother were genuinely happy to see him well. Dwinderbrew remained detached, however—the encroaching cataclysms had not been kind to the family's coffers, after all.

Despite being the one member of his dwindling clan that is not technically of their bloodline, he is perhaps the only member of the family that lives up to their family name. Dwunderbran stands just under a staggering four and a half feet (staggering for dwarves, anyways) with a stolid frame and hairy, keglike forearms. His imposing face is scarred and ruddy, his eyes always seemingly aglow with anticipation as they peer out from beneath the oppression of his prominent brows. His lengthy hair and beard are one incongruous mane of fiery strands; the mismatched braids, bindings, and clasped tails jutting out at haphazard angles. Stains from meals, drinks, and spit long forgotten cling to matted tufts of hair dominating his chin, carrying with them an odor that only a dwarf can stomach. His clothes are plain and practical: a thick and sleeveless grey woolen shirt with an untold number of straps and harnesses; Loose-fitting leather breeches criss-crossed with a multitude of shallow knicks and cuts; and simple, dark brown boots and gloves, the latter of the two sporting a poorly secured patchwork of metal plates about the shins and feet. His armor, in stark contrast to the rest of his attire, is a masterpiece of dwarven acumen. A burnished breastplate sporting a meticulously engraved motif of twin ram heads facing outwards upon the chest with downwards curling ram's horn pauldrons, the armor seems to have been tailor made and custom fitted for the wild-eyed dwarf. Hanging from a crossed network of belts about his waist are a pair of heavy-hafted axes, each bearing a multitude of crude notches along their length.

Overconfident and boisterous, Dwunderbran embodies much of the stereotypes leveled against the dwarven peoples. Decisions are made on a whim, and often while in the grips of a drunken stupor, with little care for tomorrow's consequences. At a glance, he seems motivated by gain, glory, and the many luxuries life can offer.

Though prone to violent streaks and bouts of wildness, Dwunderbran is also a jovial spirit with a deep penchant for celebration. Unfortunately, and owing mostly to his many years spent living as a glorified pirate along the coastlines of the Inner Sea, Dwunderbran seems to have no concept of hygiene or etiquette. His often times overpowering stench and improper verbosity have likely felled as many foes as his axe. Dwunderbran's accent is difficult to discern at times, due to his unintentionally adopting slang and dialects from various mercenaries during his time spent in Kerse and along the Inner Sea.

Ability Score Racial Traits: +2 Con, +2 Wis, -2 Cha.
Size: Medium
Type: Humanoids (dwarf)
Base Speed: 20 ft.
Languages: Common and Dwarven (Bonus: Giant)

______Defense Racial Traits______
Defensive Training: +4 dodge bonus to AC against monsters of the giant subtype.
Hardy: +2 racial bonus on saving throws against poison, spells, and spell-like abilities.
Stability: +4 racial bonus to CMD to resist bull rush or trip attempts while standing on the ground.

______Feat and Skill Racial Traits______
Greed: +2 racial bonus on Appraise checks made to determine the price of non-magical goods that contain precious metals or gemstones.
Stonecunning: +2 Perception to notice unusual stonework. . .such checks are made automatically when passing within 10 feet.

______Senses Racial Traits______
Darkvision: 60 ft.

______Offense Racial Traits______
Giant Hunter: +1 on attack rolls against humanoids with the giant subtype. +2 bonus on Survival checks to find and follow tracks made by humanoids with the giant subtype. (replaces Hatred)
Weapon Familiarity: battleaxes, heavy picks, and warhammers; all weapons with the word "dwarven" in its name is treated as a martial weapon.