Name: Glognar Heckel / Glogsy by his blood-brother Bors
Race: Dwarf
Deity: Moradin
Profession: Dwarven Defender of Moradin, Master Armour crafter
Birthplace: The Earthspur mountain
Residence: The 'Song
Guild Affiliations: One of the founders of The stewards-of-hammersong.
Appearance
This dwarf looks old, maybe little too old for walking around in a thick fullplate armour to some but he looks confident and comfortable in it. His face; with a lot of gray beard and big eye brows, brown eyes with small flecks of dark blue and a bald head in a light brown skin tone makes a friendly impression especially as his lips often is crossed by a smile.
His body is compact and muscular, just around 4 and 1/3 feet tall. Instead of the traditional ale-gut that is usually seen on dwarven males, Glognar has what people would call a ”six-pack” or rather he had one in his young days, now there is only a trace left of it but still noticeable.
At more noble circumstance he has changed the fullplate to a fine yellow silk robe or some of his own creations.
Personality
Glognar tries to do what's right accordingly to the law of his home, Hammersong, but at the same time his heart has strong opinions is certain matters.
He is often friendly and show respect to others. He is not one who would call you a friend just after a few mugs of water at the pub because in his eyes, friendship is something that you earn.
There were a time in his younger days on Thain that he was naive and thought well of almost everyone despite appearance or race but after have been tricked, deceived and let down numerous times he is cautious with dragon-kins or anyone with outsider blood in their veins and aids guards of different factions to drive off fiends/half-fiends/dragonkin to make it a safer place for commoners and young adventurers.
To those who he call friends he is loyal and faithful, aiding them whenever they ask for it or even if they don't.
When he is traveling in a group he will never leave anyone behind, always wanting to stay as last man and keep the enemies bussy while his companions getting to safety it they are forced to retreat or abandon the fight to seek shelter. Even if it will mean that he is sacrificing his own life.
Background
He comes from a family of hight standing, and from a clan that were the protectors of the ancient temple halls deep into the Earthspur mountain.
One night when Glognar was just a little lad not more then five years old, counted in human years, he woke up from that his older brother stumbled into their house, unlike other dwarven societies they lived in stone houses instead of one grand hall. He had blood all over himself and he was clearly drunk and quite scared. Sure all dwarves drink ales and the like, but a few (unlucky) are unable to handle it properly and that was something that ran in the family. As young as Glognar were, of course he got worried that his brother had hurt himself. Glorn which his name was said that Glognar had to swear not to tell anyone about his bloody clothes, not even their father. Glognar didn't understood why he couldn't tell anyone but he trusted in his older brother and promised to keep quiet about it.
… Glorn and his friends had been having a good time drinking ale of all kinds at the ever so popular inn, as usual he was drinking too much. An elven merchant was sitting at the bar not used to dwarven ales was getting rather tipsy and started to wrangle about common insults on the dwarven people, not the smartest thing to do in a dwarven city, most of the dwarves just shook their heads and continued their drinks realizing the elf was more then drunk and clearly unaware of what he was saying.
Glorn on the other hand who was almost as tipsy as the elf started to answer back. Lucky for the elf Glorns friends held him back or else there had been a not so friendly fight. The merchant left rather soon as he did realize somewhere in his drunkenness the he should leave. Glorn settled down after he had left but wasn't able to enjoy his ale; Who was an elf to come into their home and start casting insults!?
As he couldn't enjoy his ale he saw no reason to stay at the inn, he could as well go home and sleep. Walking alone along the alleys to come to his home he saw the elf again. Everything came back the anger rouse up in him and before he knew it the elf lay lifeless on the ground. …
The next morning they woke up of the whole village was buzzing. An elven tradesman had been found dead in a back alley in the city. The guard enforcements were questioning the inn owner and some of the people that had been at the inn during the past evening and the night. Some says that the elf had been drinking too much and was bugging people others say that a few of the regulars had been pulling jokes on the merchant but no one had seen anything that could have lead to the merchants death.
A few days past and young Glognar was getting uneasy. Was it his brother that had done it? Why did he had bloody clothes that night? And why had he been made to keep silent about it?
The questions were many and he lay sleepless. It were too much to keep for himself, he had to tell someone. Their father, he would know what to do, he always knew. That evening when Glognars father tucked him into bed and said goodnight Glognar lighted his heart, telling about the bloody clothes and how Glorn had made him promise not to tell anyone. He got furious and asked why he made such lies about his own family. The young dwarf started to cry and turned away to face the wall as his father walked out of the room.
As Gratiln walked out of his sons room he started to think; No, not one of his sons, they couldn't have done it. A day later Gratlin found a pile of bloody clothes, hidden in a recess. He let out a huge sigh of disappointment as he knew directly what it was. He headed out into the streets in a desperate attempt to find Glorn but in vain. Knowing what he had to do he walked to the authorities and gave them the clothes. Already the next day Glorn was a wanted dwarf and later caught.
The trial was short, the evidence was clear, this dwarf, Glorn Heckel, had murdered the elven merchant visiting the city. Drunk or not, that is no excuse for not being responsible for your own actions. The judgment for such a crime were to be executed right away, the punishment, death.
The news spread through the city like fire in the woods, within minutes half the city had gathered around the guillotine that was put up in the middle of the town, including his family and his close friends. Young Glognar did not dare to look at his brother, he had broken a promise, but the law said that he had done the right thing.
The crowd shouted as his crimes was read, drums drilled and all got quiet. The blade screeched as it was released and ran down towards the neck of a dwarf who was in a state of anxiety. As the head fell into the basket Glognar turned to hug his mother and cried.
The next coming time was a hard one, Gratiln was fired from his work as a guard at the temple, to ease the sorrow he started to drink, heavily, as a result of that he got uncontrollable aggressions and beat both his wife and his son. And quite fast they went from the top to the bottom in society's hierarchy.
Life went on like that for a few years, Glognar spending much time out on the cold snowclad mountain to escape from being licked, hoping deep inside that his father still loved him. One day, Gratlin told Glognar that he would be sent far away to a training camp to learn the art of defense. Glognar didn't had much to say in the matter, that was how it should be if his father had said so. Already the next day the caravan started the long journey across Faerûn towards the sword coast.
He spend the rest of his adolescence in this camp. In the begining he had a hard time to sleep. Why had his father sent him here? Was it to get rid of him? As the years went he persuade himself that he had been send here because it would be better for him, to get a fair chance in his life to do something of note. It was under this time that Glognar found an previously unknown love to work metals especially into armours. If it was an unconscious strife to be able to create protections for his body since the time when his father beat him daily or just something the gods saw fitting is left to faith.
The day had finally come, the day to return home. Glognar had mixed feelings about this day, He would finaly be on the way back to meet his parents, who he still loved, but he had been away for so long, even though he loved his father, how would he react if he still had those uncontrollable aggressions?
The ship left the harbor and sailed south-east towards the sword coast, but they never made it. The ship got lost in a storm and sailed for many weeks before they saw land in the horizon, the captain on the ship searched through all the maps he had, to find what island they possibly saw in the skyline, but they never found out where they were. Glognar decided to stay on this new island after he found the city of Hammersong, but the rest of the crew salied off after some weeks of resupplying the food storages in hopes to find their way home.