Bildr Moltenbrew was born into a long lineage of craftsmen Dwarves in the Kingdom of Urguan in the capital city of Kal'Varoth. While many of the family was made up of dwarves with vastly different talents over the years, their established brewery was the namesake and pride of the family tree. Over the many centuries, the Moltenbrews developed specialty ales and meads, which were known for their heavily spiced, nutty and earthy aromas and complex flavors. The Moltenbrews are a hardy bunch, and value family and caring for the home and hearth above all. Bildr was born to his parents Ethra and Bjirned Moltenbrew. They loved him fiercely, and taught him the family ways of craftsmanship and upholding the family traditions within the brewery. As he grew up, Bildr followed the family faith as he become more cognizant, and to this day still prays to the Hearth Mother as his patron deity (but still follows the Brathmordakin pantheon). Once he reached adulthood, Bildr had started his own side business of leatherworking and blacksmithing to add to the family's shared income. He lived this way for many years, working on armor and his own personal projects while also tending to the brewery. Once he reached his middle age years, he was married to a wonderful dwarf woman named Myssael. To this day he still doesnt know how he was able to make her fall for him (in Bildr's mind, he sees himself as clumsy, homely and gruff-not the type of man to fall in love and be married). Myssael was his best friend, and she helped him learn to become an excellent cook. Bildr and Myssael sired three children, Ebrig(Male), Ranva(female), and Bylledeth(female). Bildr and Myssael taught their children the Moltenbrew values and trade, as Bildr's parents had done for him. Their family was very tight-knit and loving, though Bildr was the most emotionally reserved of the bunch. When his children neared adulthood, Myssael fell ill with a terrible sickness that left her bed-ridden for months. None were able to identify the source of what plagued her. Bildr slowly watched his wife wither away, unable to do anything to help her. He had never felt so helpless before. As Myssael became worse and worse, Bildr decided enough was enough. He resolved to do the impossible (in his mind), and leave the city in search of help. He spent a several-week trek south by foot and by boat to the Druidic Order in search of a healer. After visiting the lands, he was able to rally the aid of an elven druid to come with him back to Kal'Varoth. Upon returning, he was fronted with the terrifying news that his wife had passed while he was away. Stricken with grief and anger, he swore to never leave the city again. He still wrestles with the guilt he feels to this day. After laying his wife to rest, his children one by one left the city, as their mother was the glue that held the family together and they wanted to pursue their own destinies. Bildr was not ecstatic about the idea, but still respected his children's free will and gave them his blessing. At this point, Bildr was alone. HIs parents were still alive, but now lived in a separate house down the road and were much too old to keep the family business going themselves, so Bildr took on the sole responsibility of running the Molten Brewery.
Clothing: Chain armor with tabard
Bildr side-eyes the man, shuffling his feet in place awkwardly. It has been so long since the last time he spoke to a new person, and wracks his brain to remember basic formalities and the art of being social so as not to come across as rude. "Jus' comin te sell some ale, m'lord," he says gruffly, the low rumble of his voice carrying through. "Jus' point me in th' right direction an' I'll be off." Bildr manages to trip through another sentence. This must be a new personal record, he thinks to himself. Bildr shuffles one of his packs slung across his shoulder, scuffing his leather boot against the cobbled ground, waiting for the man's response.