Hazkal Brannoksson
Hazkal Brannoksson is a brilliant Aether-Khemist with a focus on the utilization of Aether-Gold in medicinal applications. His research has proven to be incredibly promising, if controversial–given the long-term effects of Aether-Gold exposure.
Hazkal Brannoksson is a brilliant Aether-Khemist with a focus on the utilization of Aether-Gold in medicinal applications. His research has proven to be incredibly promising, if controversial–given the long-term effects of Aether-Gold exposure. As such, Hazkal has not been able to capitalize upon his successes financially. Those who know him are hardly surprised. He has long held a reputation for being quite unskilled in matters of business. With such an unseemly reputation, he is considered a “black cloud” by most of his family, save his adventuresome cousin Thori Snorrisson. Determined to prove himself and push the bounds of his research, Hazkal signed on to the same Skyfleet as his favorite cousin and set sail for adventure!
Somewhat bookish by the standards of most Duardin, the choice to become Soulbound came as somewhat of a shock to Hazkal. The opportunity to expand and perfect his craft, however, was too great an opportunity to let pass. With his keen interest in the effects of Aether-Gold exposure upon the body and its maddening long-term effects, Hazkal hopes to be able to focus his research into curing such conditions and more. Given enough study, mayhap even the magical poxes of Chaos might be cured with Aether-Gold infused medications. Surely that would earn him the respect of his peers!
Arven Stonewalker
An experienced Lord-Castellant, and veteran of the last days of the Realmgate Wars. As the de facto commanding officer of the Stonewalkers Chamber of the Celestial Vindicators Stormhost, he prefers a more aggressive methodology than would be suggested by his usually defensively-oriented station–though one perfectly in keeping with the mindset of his fellow warriors.
Torgillius the Chamberlain
“I believe I am on the verge of a breakthrough. Bring me more subjects. And no more half-starved weaklings – the last batch didn’t even last the night.”
Gorslav the Gravekeeper
“When ye hear the scrape, scrape, scraping of Old Gorslav on his walk,
The only sound he ever makes, for he ain’t one for talk,
Flee then, fool, and hide away, and hope he don’t come take,
And bind your arms and drag ye off to bury ye awake.’