Klor Kragsson's page

Klor is a self-styled "dwarven defender," in open rebellion against the rules and regimen of his clan, exiled into the dark tunnels to protect them on his own terms. Klor very much adheres to the notion that the ends justify the means; and although his goals are usually good-- at least as far as he understands the term-- his approach leaves much to be desired.

Klor Kragsson is the middle of three sons of Krag Bladebeard, the current patriarch of a long line of Hearthguard, the champions and protectors of the dwarven strongholds. Unfortunately for his family, Klor's fiery temper and lack of discipline did not mesh well with the demands of his clan's profession.
Despite a terrible falling out with his father and clan, Klor was yet filled with a sense of responsibility for his kin. His self-imposed exile from his stronghold sent him deep into the tunnels of his mountain home, into the goblin warrens that criss-crossed the dwarven delvings. Klor spent many years stalking those warrens alone, protecting his clan in his own way, on his own terms. It was a brutal and lonely existence, hardening him physically and mentally.
Those who have met Klor find him difficult to bear. Even by dwarven standards he is considered rough and crude. His years alone have left him with a tendency to speak his thoughts aloud, with brutal honesty. His best hope for tactful conversation is simply to say nothing at all!
Those who know him slightly better realize that honesty is only one of his many double-edged virtues. Though he is fearless, a useful trait in an ally, it often comes across as arrogant bravado. His hatred of evil is unswerving, although he is completely without mercy and his methods often give pause to more civilized company. Klor adheres to no code of conduct but his own, for he believes that authority ends at the point of the sword. He will do what he believes he can get away with, and though he fears no man, he respects those who can enforce their will. Were it not that his goals were in line with the common good, he might very well find himself on the wrong end of the law...

Over the years Klor had tired of the clan ways enough to move to the surface. it was difficult at first But He knew how to survive.

Livin up ere can't be diffrn than in da tunnels? can it? Klor muses to himself as he urges the weary pack mule hauling his gear.

the forest trail winded for a bit util there was some brush rustling ahead.

Klor squints in the light, not fully accustomed to the daylight of the sun yet. you best be on yer way lest ye be wantin' ta git a new introduction ta yer maker

Klor grabs his Waraxe "Tarnack" ready for a fight

Right! show yerself yea no good scabby maggot

at that moment a rabbit hops across the trail from the brush ahead.

ha! I git all werked up fer dat? Klor yer on edge too much He hefts his Waraxe on his shoulder and turns to grab the reins of Bessie. when a good for nothing flea ridden little green goblin maggot makes a leap for him.

catching Klor by surprise the goblin's dogslicer cuts into his leg leaving a deep gash.

What in the nine hells Klor stumbled under the pain of the cut.

Blasted surface goblins were trickier than the lower ones. Klor need to be on his toes.

finding his feet once more Klor spun around swinging Tarnack at the sound of the approaching goblin as it leaps at him, severing the green vermin's head clean off.

Klor remained ready for more dey never travel alone. Best be on me guard.

grabbing an old rag from the saddlebag Klor bound up the wound. it seemed pretty deep, might need a healer for that cut he thought.

after a couple of hours of watching and waiting for the next wave of goblin invaders the forest trail seemed quiet.

Knew I'd scare em off, dey knew dey were dealin with a Kragsson dwarf

Klor, along with Bessie continued along the trail, limping under the pain of the cut, progress was slower that expected.

eventually the forest trial lead the two to the village of Oakhurst. It seemed like a pleasant enough place. so Klor limped along leading Bessie.

the stay at Oakhurst went from a quick overnight to a few more days, then just one more week, till finally Klor became a near permanent fixture in the town.

Klor set himself up as Rurik's assistant in the local blacksmith. It was good to be on forge again, it had been so long. feeling the hammer in his hand, the pounding of the heated metal against the anvil, reminded him of home. there wasn't as much call for weapons and armor in this little village but then again, there wasn't much call for farming tools back in the clan home. guess it all balances out in the end. It was also good to be among kin again, Rurik and Klor seemed to be a good match.

Klor's leg never properly healed. and still today he walks with a limp. when asked how he got it...he never answer's with the same story. sometimes he was slaying a great dragon , others it was hoard of orcs. but he never mentions goblins.