Brogan Lonehammer Allen

Dwaven Cleric of Jehovah


Age: 150
Height: 4’ 6”
Weight: 200 lbs.
Hair: Blonde
Eye Color: Emerald Green
Deity: Jehovah
City of Origin: Betharbel

Description: Thick blonde hair and beard, braided in intricate patters with beads and such. A large symbol of a serpent wrapped around a staff dangles from his left ear, which he has a tendency to play with. When he’s getting serious, he’ll reach up and flick the earring, which will chime.
Personality: Straightforward, honest, brusque but caring, battle ready, humble towards his god.


Wyvernscale Armor of Dwarven Vigor Armor 12 AV2
Dwarven Armor Armor 12 PH1
Armor of Exploits Armor 13 AV1
Hydra Armor Armor 13 PH1
Benefactor Armor Armor 14 Dragon Mag 380
Reinforcing Armor Armor 14 AV1
Flameward Light Shield Armor 26 AV2
Dazzling Craghammer +5, +6 Weapon 25, 30 Dragon 386
Symbol of Divine Reach Holy Symbol 13 AV1
Symbol of Warpriest +6 Holy Symbols 30 AV1
Bracers of Respite Arms 12 AV1
Bracers of Wound Closure Arms 13 AV1
Breach Bracers Arms 15 AV1
Skull Bracers Arms 17 AV1
Dantrag’s Bracers Arms 18 Dragon Mag 386
Trollhide Bracers Arms 19 AV1
Iron Armbands of Power Arms 26 AV1
Boots of Quickness Feet 28 AV1
Gauntlets of the Blood War Hands 26 Manual of the Planes
Breaching Gauntlets Hands 26 AV1
Mask of Slithering Head 11 AV1
Helm of Hidden Horrors Head 16 AV1
Philosopher’s Crown Head 17 AV2
Basilisk Helm Head 18 PH1
Helm of Battle Head 29 PHB1
Ioun Stone of Regeneration Head 25 AV1
Elven Cloak Neck 12 PH1
Cloak of the Chirugeon Neck 13 AV1
Healer’s Brooch Neck 29 AV1
Cloak of the Phoenix Neck 30 AV1
Periapt of Wound Closure Neck 30 AV2
Ring of Invigoration Ring 14 Dragon Annual 2009
Alliance Band Ring 15 AV2
Ring of Circling Fangs Rings 20 Dungeon 181
Luminary Ring Rings 22 AV1
Ring of the Dragonborn Emperor Rings 15 AV1
Ring of the Zealous Rings 15 AV1
Cincture of Vivacity Waist 14 AV1
Sash of Vitality Waist 14 AV2
Baldric of Time Waist 16 AV2
Sash of Regeneration Waist 28 AV2
Belt of Sacrifice Waist 17 PHB1
Tattoo of Shared Heart (for everybody) Tattoo 14 AV2

|Champions Hauberk||Armor||13+||AV2|
|Weapon of Cruel Persuasion||Wpn||14+||AV2|
|Champion’s Symbol||Implement||15+||AV2|
|Restorative Gauntlets||Hands||16||AV2|
|Pursuer’s Boots||Feet||17||AV2|

((BOLD means an item that I really want!))



He was born the third son of Marsinda and Kathra Goldspinner MacEwan (the family was known for their golden hair), but the last of their 5 children. It was a joyous day of celebration after a hard labor (his mother was getting much too old to have any more children), but it was also a day of prophecy, one of very few that his Æld (Dwarven for Aunt) Ruya had ever spoken. As the mid-wife had delivered the blonde-haired babe, Ruya, the high cleric of the Dwarven God Jehovah, had fallen into a trance and had a vision of a great curse that would befall the city of Betharbel, the capital of Hebron in the future. The only shadow of hope rested with this newborn babe who would have to leave the hold to return some day to save it. As they were wrapping the babe in swaddling, Ruya had rushed in and told the family of the prophecy she had seen. Even though they doubted the veracity of her prophecies, the boy was still named Brogan, meaning “little wanderer” in the Elder Tongue.

The MacEwan’s oldest son, Thorfin, was already being trained to follow in his father’s footsteps of running the Merchant’s Guild some day. Their first daughter, Aileas, and their second daughter, Maisie, were already betrothed to sons of high-standing members in other prominent guilds. Their second son, Darrak, was learning the family trade, but he mainly worked in the defense of the town from the occasional Orc or Giant raids out of the surrounding mountains. The little babe was a blessing to the family and they doted on him, but it was decided that he should follow in his aunt’s footsteps and serve Jehovah as a Cleric. Brogan loved every moment that his spent in his Æld’s tutelage. On a constant basis his Æld reminded him of the prophecy that surrounded his birth, in the hopes of preparing him for the fateful day. Like the rest of his family, Brogan didn’t give much heed to Ruya’s prophecies, since none had ever come true, but his mother had asked him to respect Æld Ruya, so he held his tongue and learned at her side to love and respect God. Once his beard finally started to grow, she was the one who taught him the family tradition of braiding the genealogy of their clan into it as a reminder of their clan and their strong family ties.

In his 28th year, a huge Vampire swarm swept out of the deepest parts of the mountains, attacking the city of Betharbel and later on the region. All of the warriors were sent to defend the perimeter of the city, in the hopes of keeping the horde form entering the city, including Darrak. Marsinda, his father, and the other warriors of the city stood ready in case their defenses were breached. In a strange twist of luck, the Vamps raiders had used some of the Dwarve’s own tunnels to enter the city undetected. In a great battle, Brogan’s father found himself facing a Vampire Lord, known for their strength and brutality in fighting. Marsinda was forced to his knees as blow after blow hammered down on his battleaxe, finally splitting it. Bloodied and weaponless, the Lord’s poisoned blade descended one last time to end the Guild Master’s life. Instead, Ruya sacrificed herself, taking the fatal blow for her brother. The Vampire’s sword had gone too deep and stuck, so Marsinda took up his sister’s Warhammer and killed the Undead Creature. The swarm was defeated and chased out of the city, but Ruya was too badly wounded and poisoned to be healed. A heartbroken family gathered around her bedside. Wheezing, she told her humbled brother to tell the family of her prophecy for him.
“Please dinna waste yer breath,” he begged her.
“Tell them the truth,” she commanded him. With tears streaming down his eyes, he recounted how, not long after Ruya had first become a Cleric of Jehovah, she had given her first prophecy of how her brother would face a huge Vampire in battle, lose to him, and that he would lose his life except that his sister would sacrifice hers for his. A hush fell over the room as the family began to respect the seer among them for the first time. Weakening a little more every moment as the Undead’s poison ate her alive, she blessed each of the family members. As the youngest, Brogan was the last. By this time his favorite Æld could barely speak above a whisper. With shaking fingers, she removed her earring, a finely carved serpent wrapped around a staff, the symbol of hope for her God, and placed it in his hand.

Brogan_s_Earring_2.JPG “Ne’er lose yer faith in our Savior. He learned his lesson years ago and will never abandon ye. Make yerself strong for him as ye wander this great land. Remember that Jehovah loves yeh, yer family loves… yeh…, and I… love… yeh….” The aged hand he held in his own relaxed as death claimed her. Gently he folder her arms across her chest and stepped back as the each of the other members paid their respects. With tears streaming unabashed down his cheeks for his Æld, he reached up and pushed the post of the earring he’d been given into his left ear, piercing his flesh with the earring itself. Brogan’s heart was in such turmoil that he never felt the pain or the blood dripping down his ear as his parents began to prepare the body for burial.

From that day forward his family treated Brogan differently. They seemed to be counting down the days for when he would be ready and they would send him on his way as a wanderer. They now knew that Ruya’s visions should not be trifled with and were bound and determined to heed her dying wishes. With newfound respect, Brogan filled his days with study at the temple of God. To ease the ache and fear of what his Æld’s prophecy meant, he lost himself in his studies and combat practice. The next few years flew by in the blink of an eye, each day as full at the last. During this time his father improved his station in the town and was elected not only to remain as the head of the Merchant’s Guild, but also to be the Clan Chieftan of the governing counsel for the town. Thorfin was old enough to take up his father’s responsibilities to the guild while his father helped to run the counsel.

In his 30th year, a great ceremony was held at the temple of Jehovah. There, the novitiates were finally granted full Clerical status and given the mission to deepen their faith and spread the religion of the true God abroad. His family cheered him on, but then was visibly absent after the ceremony. After the gala, Brogan returned home, fear clutching his heart, to find that all of his necessities had been packed and that his entire family was waiting in the entry room, his bags next to them. Brogan looked from the sad eyes of his mother to the stoic eyes of his father and realized that the time had come to leave. He had dreaded this time, hoping that his parent’s faith in his Æld’s prophecy would wane, but it hadn’t. Angry at being forced to leave his family, at having his life dictated by a strange vision, he grabbed his bags, slung them over his shoulder, and stormed out of their home, never looking back. Later on he would regret never hugging his mother good-bye, but that would be later.


For the next month, Brogan found himself fighting for survival out in the world. When his anger got the better of him, he seriously considered undoing the genealogical weave in his beard, but something inside would stay his hand. At other times, depression and loneliness almost drove him to return to his family, but his honor and pride wouldn’t let him. Instead, he found his way towards a great Dwarven hold known as Kadesh There the Clan Chiefs and the other dwarves gladly welcomed both his warhammer and his clerical abilities, especially during the increasing boldness of the vampire clans. When peace fell on the region, Brogan felt that he needed to move on in the hopes of discovering the meaning of the prophecy and maybe being able to finally return home.

In the city of Aragon, the crossroads between the Aachenvald League and the Holy Baltian Kingdom, the Shrine of Jehovah welcomed him as a brother in the faith. They allowed him a small cell with a sleeping cot, a chest, and a desk for his use. As he fully unpacked his bags for the first time, to store his belongings in the chest, he found a strange book that his mother had stuck at the very bottom. He sat down at the desk, which was crafted for human size, and carefully opened the book, his feet dangling off the floor. Inside he recognized his Æld’s handwriting; she had left behind her book of Rituals. The thoughtfulness of his mother touched his heart and he found tears finally springing to his eyes. Brogan fell to his knees to ask for God’s forgiveness and to thank Him for his family’s love and the strength to do what was right, even if it had been hard for them. After a few hours of prayer, Brogan found that he felt lighter in his soul and closer to his god. He knew that he had reached a great milestone in his life. As he got to his feet, he decided to embrace being cut off from his family. He knew that the Goldspinner name was known far and wide and he didn’t want people giving him favors because of the clan name, so he decided that he would be known as Brogan Lonehammer Allen from that day forward. No one, other than his own clan, would recognize the designs in his beard for what they were, so he could safely keep that close to his heart, just as he did the memories of his family.

The next two years he worked hard in town to build a place for himself. He endeavored to learn more about the god Wulf worshiped by the other races, and in a spirit of respect, proselyted about Jehovah. He also worked hard to ease the suffering of people within the city, using his healing to aid those in need. A little each day, he worked with the city militia, training with them and training the new recruits, while improving his own prowess with his hammer. Finally, he had earned enough money to get a small room of his own above a smithy. It helped him to feel closer to home, but there was still a longing inside for his clan, which had been instilled in him from a young age.


Over the next few years in town, he grew to know others like himself with adventurous hearts. In their first under-taking together, they slew a young white dragon and took his claws to make matching necklaces. From that time forth they became known as the White Talons. They worked together well and had many adventures; the most memorable was being able to keep the Demon Cult of Morigar from bringing their dread god Morigar back to the prime material plane. Unwittingly, Brogan had begun creating a little clan of his own, drawing in friends from different races and backgrounds. He’d been taught in his youth that no dwarf was ever complete without his clan, and now he saw what he had unconsciously done. As the group grew closer, he didn’t regret a moment of it.

When the black plague struck, the White Talons strove to help the world deal with the destruction that followed. They fought day and night to alleviate the suffering of the people around them… but they worked themselves into exhaustion. Months later, when the state of emergency had passed, the group found that they were burned out. The group decided that it was time to settle down and get on with their own lives. One by one, they all went their own ways until Brogan was left alone, back in Aragon. As much as he loved the city, there were too many poignant reminders of his distant companions and he soon took to the road, leaving behind the shrine of Jehovah that he had so lovingly tended for years.


Many years he traveled, seeing most of the world. He had many other adventures and made many new friends over the years. One of the most memorable moments for him occurred 15 years ago when he had a chance to encounter the ancient Dwarven General he’d met when first leaving his family. The aged dwarf had left on a life quest, but arthritis and a festering wound left him half dead. Brogan did his best to nurse him back to health, but his clerical magic couldn’t waylay old age. For his kindness, the old king gave him his magical warhammer, to use in his name, and then passed, holding his friend’s hand. Brogan named it Aegis-Fang after a mythical warhammer in a book he used to read in his youth, and found that the weapon had truly been god-blessed. The warhammer proved to be a blessing as tensions grew in the land between the races, and the Church of Wulf, which was growing in power.


During one of his return trips to Aragon, Brogan encountered a young human male, by the name of Alister Jager. This young Wulfite was lost and confused about his religion, but curious about the The Church of God due to things some lady in his life had mentioned. Brogan carefully broached the subject with the young lord, learning about his own beliefs, and building on things that they had in common. At first the dwarf thought that Alister was only curious so that he could win the lady’s affections, but as they talked long into the wee hours each night, Brogan could feel the young man’s testimony and faith in Jehovah growing, almost filling the young man with the power of his belief. Brogan baptized the young man and introduced him to other Jehovites friends that he had in the city so that they could help his faith grow, before his travels took him elsewhere.

Later on, he heard of Alister’s duel, and his subsequent banishment. As quick as he could, he sought to find the young man to extend a hand of friendship and support to him. Brogan personally knew how it felt to lose one’s family, and wanted to bring his friend closer.


The first time Brogan met the Gaki he was strolling through the Market in the city of Beschtengart, looking for some new boots, when suddenly he felt a telltale tug at his belt. His meaty hand whipped out and snagged hold of the skinnier one; just removing his coin purse, or what he thought was the dwarf’s coin purse. The boy tried to run, but Brogan’s corded muscles held him squarely in place. The boy still had his dagger in his hand and he tensed as if he was going to use it, but before he could blink, the Cleric’s huge warhammer was at hand, ready to crush his arm, if need be. The boy relented. Brogan released his grip and told the boy that he could keep what was inside the bag, if he really wanted it…. Curious, the boy opened the bag to find that it was only full of gaming bones. Thoroughly disappointed the boy returned the bag and Brogan invited him to lunch at one of the nearby vendors. They bought lamb skewers and some other odds and ends to fill them up, while talking and getting to know each other better. Brogan could tell right away that the Gaki (or little brat) wasn’t a bad kid; he’d just had a rough life and had found his own way to survive. After eating, he gave the Gaki two gold coins and made him promise to stay out of trouble (never expecting that he’d do so).

A few weeks later, Brogan was strolling through a seedy part of town, when he saw a familiar Gaki disappear around behind an old dilapidated building. Thinking that he looked suspicious, the Dwarf decided to follow him as quietly as he could. Inside, it didn’t take long for his low-light vision to kick in, and he could see the Gaki sneaking behind some crates. After waiting a few moments, Brogan decided to investigate and found a hidden trap door. Down he ventured into the darkness, hearing soft footsteps padding away down a corridor below him. Upon descending the ladder, he followed as quietly as he could, keeping the beads on his beard from jangling together. The corridor branched off in multiple directions, and the Cleric could hear muffled conversations down those side tunnels, but he followed the soft footsteps of the thief, unerringly. Around another corner, the Dwarf pulled up short. The Gaki had entered a sacred room, but whereas most sacred rooms gave the Cleric of Jehovah a good feeling, this one made his skin crawl. Dark designs had been scrawled on the walls in what looked like blood. Black drapes encircled the room and seemed to drink in the light from the dark torches, burning a strange purple color. The whole room seemed malevolent, but nothing could describe the evil alter in the center of the room. On top of the alter sat a silver chalice covered in pictures of a horned man with cloven feet doing evil things to innocent people. With a glance, Brogan recognized the markings of the Cult of Morigar. Before he could say anything, the Gaki swiped the chalice from the alter and suddenly the air rang out with heart wrenching screeching, wailing, and caterwauling. The alarm had been triggered, and Brogan could hear feet hurrying this way. He turned to yell for the Gaki to run, but he was staring off into space, holding the silver cup, like he was no longer in the room and then he began to scream as well. Brogan had to choose between running to the boy, or keeping him safe, battling off their attackers in the doorway, where he’d stand a better chance. He drew his shield and warhammer, and prayed to his God for strength.

After what seemed like forever, the last cloaked figure fell moaning and bleeding, unable to get up. The Dwarf slammed shut the doors and slid his warhammer through the handles to keep anyone else out, and then ran to the Gaki’s side. The young man had fallen to the floor, his eyes were bloodshot and he was crying, his mouth open in a silent scream, his skin was ice cold to the touch. The cleric tried to knock the chalice out of his hands, but instead got shocked and knocked backwards away from the boy. It hurt like hell, but in that brief instant the Cleric knew what he was dealing with. The dark cup was trying to possess and bond with the Gaki, unleashing who knew what horrible evil upon the world. Brogan laid his hands upon the boy, uttering a sincere and heartfelt prayer to his God, and then began undoing the bonding process through holy magic. Without knowing why, maybe it was instinct or inspiration, he pulled out his dagger and sliced the palm of his hand, and then did the same to the young man’s free hand, and gripped on, letting their blood mingle, letting his god-infused blood fill the boy with light. After hours of praying, and mentally battling with the silver chalice, something clicked in him and the Dwarf felt the cup fall from the boys hands as his holy magic pushed away the evil bond. He had shattered the bond… or had he only transferred it? Searching inside himself, he realized that he had a faint feeling of the boy, his thoughts, and how he felt emotionally and physically. Panicked, the Dwarf let go of the boy, but he still couldn’t get him out of the back of his mind. Somehow, he’d bonded with the young man, something he wasn’t even sure that he could do. He retrieved his warhammer and tried smashing the chalice, but some unearthly power protected it, even from Aegis Fang. Resigned, he reslung his hammer, picked up the Gaki and carried him from that fell building, to nurse him back to health. When they returned, the cult had vanished, as Brogan had feared, so now they search to keep the cult from bringing back their demon god.


A long time friend of Gaki’s, Brogan met him while his young Shade was picking up some upgraded gadgets from the Dwarven Artificer. Because he was a fellow dwarf, Brogan felt an immediate connection with Muad’dib. His metal hands intrigued the cleric, who could almost sense the pain that the young dwarf still felt at times, but there never seemed to be a good time to ask about them.

True to his nature, this Dwarf was a wiz’ with his hands, able to create detailed and intricate machines. The Gaki seemed to be pleased with his work, and more than ready to pay his exorbitant prices (even though he was normally a spendthrift….), so Brogan decided to test his skills. He asked the artificer if he would use his Symbol of the Warpriest, holy implement, and craft him a flintlock pistol from which he could shoot his holy blasts. The Gaki had not lied, and the craftmanship was of the highest order. Now the Cleric could intimidate his enemies with his pistol of holy fire. From that time forward, they all were fast friends. Brogan even went so far, after learning that Muad’dib had spent a lot of time in the desert, so he gave him the nickname of the Desert Worm…


On their way back from the Holy Baltian Kingdom, Gaki and Brogan chanced upon a slave girl fighting for her life. The two of them helped her escape and nursed her back to health. Indebted to them, and ready to leave the country, she joined them.

(Maybe Brogan and the Gaki can help save Sasha’s slave… and who knows what romance might blossom for one of her saviors…)

Prisca and Jessi

Brogan, The Gaki, Alister Jager, Sasha, and Muad’dib have been travelling around searching for clues to the Cult of Morigar and the whereabouts of the Silver Chalice that holds his soul. One abandoned location left some clues that point to a certain key that could lead them into the Cult’s Library, where they can hope to gain access to information on their rituals, history, and on it’s membership. This information leads the group to the Aachenvald League and the city of Sedarg, which is where they have currently rented rooms are and beginning search around the city for this key.

Brogan Lonehammer Allen

The Silver Chalice caneton