**Race:** Dwarf **Male** **Red hair** Brott remembers the mountain. The sound of hammers in the forge. The warmth of stone halls. His mother’s voice echoing through the mines. He was separated from his clan during a tunnel collapse, lost deep below the earth where old passages twisted into places no dwarf should tread. Hungry and alone, he wandered too far and was found by the hag before anyone else found him. She kept him because he was stubborn. Brott hauled wood, fixed broken things, and learned to survive by refusing to be broken, no matter how hard the hag tried. He grew loud where others grew quiet, defiant where others became afraid. If he couldn’t stop the darkness around him, he would at least spit in its face. When Sordia Vignti found him, Brott was trying to hit the hag with a shovel. He still claims he nearly won. Now he talks too much, swears too often, and insists he fears absolutely nothing. But he never sleeps far from a light. And he never likes doors being closed behind him.