A proud dwarf paladin who has seen the best in life reduced to nothing
5’ 1’’ Very well built, especially in the triceps and calfs. Short, fiery beard. Callused hands and a crooked nose.
Fein Dreadfire grew up in a lively town on the border between the Enlightened and Flaming Empires. He was raised in a wealthy family of merchants and ship craftsmen, the merchandising being handled by his mother, Fyra, and the craftwork being headed by his father, Rekt. He also lived with his two younger sisters Tinder and Smoldur. As a young lad, Fein spent much of his time observing his parents in their leadership roles among the community. His father was revered as the tireless strongman able to handle the work of ten men. His mother was admired by all the women and men alike, respected for her cool mind and amiable disposition when dealing with customers from across the land. Most political matters within the town were concerned with economics, and so naturally Fein’s parents were appointed powerful decision-making positions among the city’s council.
Aside from craftwork, Rekt also busied himself training the local militia. He was particularly skilled in the hooked blade and axe (as is natural with most dwarves), but weapons with range were always deemed as dishonorable to him. He believed that if an opponent were able to elude his blade with distance, then he was truly defeated… but this was not a disadvantage. Light on his feet and able to utilize his short height and strength, Rekt developed a fighting style unmatched by any, save for his firstborn son Fein. When Fein was not observing and/or helping his father and mother with their work in the day, and when his father and him were not working on their latest project together (building the boat which would be known as The Torch) he spent most of his time in the training ring on the outer edge of the town. There his father would escape helping his mother cook dinner as often as possible to teach him all that he knew, and Fein learned quickly. While his father was away however, the bow and arrow became a forbidden passion. Although he never had formal lessons, Fein developed a rough talent that he was never able to show anyone, but it was one that he derived much pleasure from in his freetime.
(I’ll talk about how Rekt gave The Torch to James Onasi here later)
To make the story shorter (to be added to later), a bad deal with the flaming empire one day prompted a gang of flaming elf raiders to hit the town on the annual dwarven celebration of alcohol, known as Mead Day. While the town was flat out drunk, the hooded raiders swept through the town, utilizing bows and arrows, crossbows, and other ranged weapons to easily mop up the militia who was only taught to fight in close quarters. Surrounded and filled with over twenty arrows, Rekt was the last of the militia to fall, leaving a thirty year old Fein to fend for himself. He picked up the bow dropped by one of the killed raiders and managed to cover his own escape, watching his house burn in the distance (not sure if his mother and two sisters are alive or not… more interesting plot than “everyone dies” I think). On his way out of town into the woods, Fein comes across [Ian] who teaches him of the new ways of thinking he became acquainted to during his travels, a trivial task to help Fein recover his sanity from witnessing everything he knew go up in smoke.
They head to Bronzetown in search of new opportunity, and Fein remembers faintly a goblin who his father knew of before [Malcolm]. While in the port, Fein recognizes the ship he built with his father in the port, and rushes to reunite with his craft.
(Here is where the context becomes more current. I will continue this immediate backstory at a later time)