Brogard Anvilhand

Brogard stands just over 5 feet, broad through the shoulders with the stocky build of his dwarven blood but the longer limbs of his human heritage — a frame that looks slightly uncomfortable in itself. His curly hair falls to his shoulders, darkened by perpetual soot, with grey threading through at the temples. His beard, kept deliberately mid-length and groomed with obvious care despite everything else about him being disheveled, is his one concession to vanity. His hands are scarred and stained — burns, old cuts, the permanent wear of someone who works metal and magic without gloves.

He dresses like a man who started the day intending to look respectable and forgot halfway through: a fine wool coat over a leather apron that's more patched than original. His fingers are always stained with ash or alchemical residue. He smells of hot metal, oil, and something faintly acrid — whatever he's been experimenting with that week.

He oversees the entire Manufactorum — the Fabricarium, the Artifactory, and the central workshop complex itself. All of it is his domain, and he treats the whole sprawling operation as one interconnected workshop. Blueprints cover every surface. Prototype weapons hang from racks like a museum of dangerous ideas. A spear leans against the wall, its tip crackling with something between electricity and divine light. Nothing is quite finished. Everything is on the edge of something.

A Half-dwarf who chose to honor both his lineages through his appearance rather than lean into one or the other. In the aftermath of the Elder Evils' destruction of the dwarf kingdoms, Brogard made a choice: he would not mourn what was lost. He would build something that could prevent such devastation again. The Artificer's Guild took him in, recognized his talent, and eventually made him Chief Artificer of the Manufactorum. He has spent years perfecting his craft, designing weapons that might prove effective against the Elder Evils and their minions — but those same weapons must first serve New Bastion's defense and survival.

Consumed by his work but aware of its necessity. He balances chaotic creative impulse with pragmatic recognition that organization serves efficacy. When inspired, he forgets the world outside his Manufactorum. In meetings, he's regal and commanding — the guild master who keeps New Bastion's engineers and architects functional. In his workshops, he's lost in the next prototype. Impatient with politics, intolerant of idleness, but fiercely protective of those who share his vision.

His obsession with his work blinds him to organizational needs beyond his own domain. He forgets meals, appointments, and the small courtesies that grease political wheels. He can be dismissive of those who don't share his urgency about the Elder Evil threat. His dual mission — protecting New Bastion while honoring his people's survival — creates constant internal conflict that sometimes manifests as irritability toward anyone who doesn't understand the weight of both.

Direct and precise, with a slight rasp from long hours near forge fires. He gestures with whatever tool is in his hand. When excited about a prototype, he speaks in rapid bursts, jumping between technical detail and philosophical musing. In formal settings, he adopts a measured, almost regal tone — but it slips the moment someone mentions a mechanical problem he hasn't solved.

To create weapons capable of subduing the Elder Evils and their minions. To provide New Bastion with the tools it needs to survive. To leave a legacy for his dwarf-kin — something inspirational in a world where the gods are dead and the kingdoms are ash. To prove that ingenuity and will can achieve what prayer no longer can.

The party might need access to Brogard's weapons or expertise. They might discover that one of his incomplete prototypes has been stolen — or worse, that someone from within the Manufactorum is sabotaging his work. Brogard could recruit them for a dangerous component-gathering mission in ruins where Elder Evil corruption lingers. Or the party might become caught between Brogard's vision and New Bastion's political leadership, who question whether his obsession with anti-Elder Evil weapons is diverting resources from the city's immediate needs.