In the annals of dwarven history, the Ironfist clan's legacy stretches back to the leadership of my Great-Great-Grandfather, Dain Ironfoot. Guided by his decree, our clan, though short in stature, embarked on a quest to expand our influence across the vast lands. Born to the formidable duo of Hroter Ironfist and Ingvild Ironfoot, I, Ovbar Ironfist, entered this world in the quiet embrace of Arn Forest. There, my family founded 'New Iron Hills,' a testament to our lineage's greatness, nestled beneath the mountainous shadows north of Nether Mountain.
 
As an only child, the burden of leadership was destined to fall upon my shoulders. Raised in the lap of nobility, I initially reveled in wealth, indulging in mead, revelry, and the pursuit of worldly pleasures. However, the fates took a dark turn when, at the age of 57, my life hung in the balance during a fateful encounter with marauding orcs. It was in the clutches of impending doom that I beseeched Moradin for mercy.
 
Moradin's response was swift, embodied by a Valkyr descending from the Great Halls, rescuing me from the brink of oblivion. This divine intervention marked a turning point in my existence. Prioritizing my newfound calling over the trappings of nobility, I journeyed west from the Iron Hills. There, I immersed myself in the teachings of the clerics, driven by a solemn oath to combat the unrelenting darkness that pervades our world.
 
From noble heir to devoted cleric, my journey is a testament to the transformative power of faith. As I tread the path paved by Moradin's divine guidance, I stand ready to confront the challenges that lie ahead, wielding the sacred arts to shield my companions from the ever-present shadows that seek to engulf us all.