The mountain home of Urguan was all they knew, the Lorcus family. Mountain Dwarves of a lower class, In typical Dwarven fashion they never went hungry. But when Braughrim was young he strived for something more, And his haughty nature removed him from the keep at the tender age of 44. Traveling the land alone for four years, he eventually found himself among a group of elves, which danced and sang around him as he brooded with his ancestral axe at his side, the elves covering him in garlands and wreaths. Eventually, he found himself in with a company of mercenaries, fighting alongside them for eight generations, and becoming an officer. this, unfortunately, wore on his body as he was grazed in the leg by a ballista bolt, snapping his femur in half and barely missing his femoral artery. Dragged off by a battle brother in the heat of combat, his leg was partially helped by a cleric present with the company, but he was left with a permanent limp that has bothered him ever since. While not restricting movement too much around a shop or a forge, it forced him to stop traveling around the world constantly as he used to for several centuries. This left him in a forge, in a small village tucked away in the forest as it developed into more, every decade passing by more friends dying or being born, for the humans just to pass again before the first white stained his beard of red. In his 580s he yearned to see the world again, and so he set off, leaving his forge to his two apprentices. With crossbow on his back and axe in hand, he set off for the next several decades, hunting and living out his autumn years from town to town. Coming to find himself in the Imperial City of Helena, where he was roughly treated by the local Aristocracy and had a bad run-in with a lord’s son in one of the finer taverns in which he probably shouldn’t have been in, causing him to flee from the city for fear of retribution. There he met a teenager who would go on to sire a young Arnvuil Laewyrd. Not meeting the boy until his thirties, The dwarf found Arnvuil more tolerable than many others he had met, the two regaling each other with stories of their lives, The dwarf working at his forge and the man working the quill.
