Neverwinter: Stoneseeking and Spellplague
A Bronze Dragonborn Tank
Male Dragonborn, age 32
7’2", 325 lbs, copper scales
multiple scars on arms, chest, and back
ropy hair with two short strands coming off his chin each strand having cuff-like jewelry
blunt snout, sharp teeth
reptilian frills near the back side of the jaw
At one point was very outgoing and cheerful but has become more stern and reserved. Like most dragonborn, Norgath has a strong drive to improve himself, even to a fault, and seeks to become a master in whatever skills he takes. In particular, Norgath seeks to become a master in the art of combat and so is constantly training and searching for worthy opponents to face to hone his skills.
To Norgath, honor is very important and sees himself as responsible for those around him; the group ultimately reflects on the individual. His successes and failures are the failures and successes of the group and vice versa. Norgath tries holds himself accountable for his allies and holds them to the same standards that he holds himself to. This is very much a challenge with his new companion Seven who is often up to mischief and seems to have little honor, and yet he looks after Seven as if he were a younger sibling, keeping a close eye on him. He cares dearly for his friends and will risk his life to save theirs. Norgath has developed a strong bond with Jeb who he has come to respect as a warrior, a devout follower of Bahamut, and a man of honor. In regard to the rest of the party, he is quite concerned for Abernor’s current condition and is simply happy that Alandiel likes him more than Seven, and as time grows on he hopes to become more attached to his new companions.
Norgath has a deep hatred of evil dragons for having enslaved his ancestors and has a greater mistrust for the Genasi. He is also prone to drinking when he feels as though he has failed in someway.
Norgath was hatched in village in the mountains of Tymanther. He belongs to the Norixius clan and is the son of a skilled blacksmith, Draxithor. The marriage between his father, Draxithor, and mother, Korrinn, lasted longer than most dragonborn marriages, and as a result Norgath had a younger brother, Baldrosar.
Growing up, Norgath and Baldrosar were nearly inseparable and Norgath was particularly protective of his brother, which was made much easier by Norgath’s imposing stature. They were raised primarily by their father, as all dragonborn sons are, but had many other mentors and teachers within the clan. They heard many tales of the last of the greatest dragonborn paladins of the long-lost empire of Arkhosia, especially the paladin Kuyutha, who saved many of the surviving dragonborn clans after the fall of the empire. For his deeds, Bahamut rewarded him with a divine spark.
These tales lead Norgath and Baldrosar to dream of becoming adventurers together and joining Kuyutha’s new order of dragonborn knights of Bahamut. They often dreamt about learning how to fly and combine breath weapons. Their father taught them how to fight and survive and when it came time, just as all citizens of Tymanther must, both of the brothers joined the Lance Defenders (Tymanther’s highly trained army).
Norgath and his brother flourished in this environment. Norgath’s larger physique was a great advantage in combat, and soon he became a very skilled warrior. Baldrosar on the other hand was smaller than most dragonborn, but developed a particular gift for strategy and soon moved up in the ranks by wit, even surpassing his older brother. This made Norgath very proud, but it also furthered his ambition. They grew together, and pushed each other ever further. Norgath had gained the rank of Lieutenant and Baldrosar had become a Captain; they were even given command of a company of troops.
There had been reports of a bandits attacking settlements and villages near the Genasi border of Akanûl, to the north. Dragonborn have a natural suspicion of the Genasi, and so Norgath, Baldrosar, and their company were ordered to investigate. Upon reaching the first northern settlement they found it burnt to the ground. Many dragonborn laid dead and rotting in the streets. The company was then ordered to pursue and eliminate the enemy threat. After finding two more villages destroyed, the garrison finally caught up to the group of marauders and engaged them in combat.
Baldrosar gave the order to eliminate the enemy force initially, yet their adversaries’ numbers seemed smaller than expected. Unfortunately, by the time the brothers had realized this, it was too late; suddenly the small garrison was beset upon at all sides by even more bandits. It was a host of at least sixty, made up of orks, men, and a majority of genasi. Chaos broke loose. Arrows, fire, ice, earth, and dragonborn breath flew through the air. Bodies were piling and the brothers’ small company was dwindling. Hoping to even the playing field Norgath charged the bandit leader, a cindersoul genasi. Even though Norgath had the size advantage, the genasi leader was skilled with his sword and parried, blocked, or dodged many of Norgath’s attacks. Even worse, the cindersoul would immediately return with an attack of his own. However, the genasi leader couldn’t hold up to Norgath’s skill and strength for long; he wore the cindersoul down and took advantage of an opening in his enemy’s guard. Norgath shunted the cindersoul forcefully with his stout shield, sending the cindersoul to his knees in pain. For a second, Norgath had a window of respite to look around: less than half of their garrison was left standing, and Baldrosar was struggling to hold off two opponents.
Norgath turned his attention to the other marauders and save his brother, leaving the cindersoul leader to regain composure; as Norgath drives his sword through the back of one of the bandits, saving Baldrosar’s life, he is bludgeoned on the head with a warhammer and blacks out.
Hours later, Norgath wakes. He was bound in chains aboard a caravan with a number of other rough looking individuals, including seven of his troops and Baldrosar. Baldrosar explained that the cindersoul had returned and knocked Norgath out. What was left of the garrison was forced to surrender soon afterward.
For what seemed like a month Norgath and his brother passed from handler to handler until they were sold to a gladiatorial slaver by the name of Dross, in Calimport. The brothers were tossed into the arena countless times, fighting a number of various beasts and humanoids. At times they were forced to fight with little but makeshift weapons and sometimes no weapons at all. Each time, the brothers returned victorious; but not without their fair share of scars. Soon their reputations spread throughout the underworld of Calimport and more powerful fighters were sent to challenge them. One of whom was an ex-champion of the arena: a six-foot-ten-inch ork by the name of Orthag Axe-hand.
To Norgath’s dismay however, the brothers were not set to fight together. It was Baldrosar who was pitted against the former champion. With chills in his spine, Norgath was forced to watch from behind barred windows of the wooden arena door. It was soon apparent that Orthag was a more ferocious fighter than Norgath’s brother, and Baldrosar was fighting a losing battle. Orthag’s immense strength eventually overwhelmed Baldrosar, and Orthag beheaded him before the roaring crowd.
When Norgath witnessed the death of his brother, an intense rage enveloped him. He tore the arena’s door from its hinges, and screamed with feral anger. Orthag hearing this commotion, immediately turned and swung his axe in an attempt to take off Norgath’s head. Norgath dove underneath the swing and grabbed his brother’s battered sword from the arena dust. He gripped the weapon tight, tears in his eyes and fury in his voice, and thrusted it into the ork’s gut. Norgath forces the sword upward, toward the ork’s sternum, pulls out the sword and cuts off his head with a savage roar. The arena’s magistrate was furious with this transgression of protocol, but the crowd was booming louder than ever before. Although the magistrate bitterly tried to sentence Norgath to death, the crowd nearly rioted, screaming and yelling to spare Norgath’s life. The magistrate agreed, but his hatred of the upstart Norgath grew bitter and furious with every one of Norgath’s victories.
But Norgath cared not for the arena. All life was drained from him after his brother’s death. Norgath turned to drink, reckless behavior, and wishing for death with each new fight. His resolve was nearly broken, hammered into dullness from the loss of his truest friend and eternal brother. His hope was shriveled and dry, and killing those before him was merely a money source, to fuel his self-destructive ways in his loneliness.
Yet, one day, there was light. When a slave riot broke out in the arena barracks, Norgath took this as a sign from Bahamut to follow his and his brother’s faded dream. He escaped in the chaos and returned home for a brief time with the intention to tell his father what had happened to Baldrosar. But he could not face his clan with the shame he felt for not bringing his brother back to them safe and sound.
Norgath left his home and kingdom to seek adventure, taking nothing but his brother’s old deck of cards. Following every lead to redeem himself, he protecting caravans, hunted down bounties, and other similar tasks. Unfortunately, his intimidating presence and pride in battle was anathema to slimy job sharks. He was he was soon out of work it seemed, when he had heard the rumor of a green dragon. Remembering Bahamut’s hatred of the chromatic dragons and seeing this green dragon as a servant of Tiamat, he set out on his way to slay the evil beast and prove himself worthy of his dragonborn ancestry. It is upon this road where he had met his new companions, and soon to be, friends.