Gorrenbur Giantsbane Character in Eserine | World Anvil
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Gorrenbur Giantsbane

Gorrenbur was born to a clan of rural dwarves sent to establish a colony in a remote frozen tundra, the Bouldermarrow clan were sturdy mountain dwarves, know for their fierce combat, steadfast belief in Moradins teachings, and their impressive size for the diminutive race. The Bouldermarrow had many things to combat in the frozen world they were sent to inhabit, but persevered and formed a small colony, even fostering a set of talks and agreements with the local tribes of giants after conflict garnered respect between the groups.   Gorrenbur was born to this colony, Svinterheld was it called. He grew up learning to wrestle and make himself useful, born to a brewer father he learned the ways of making meads and other find drinks to keep his kin happy. Around the time Gorrenbur turned 37, still young for a dwarf, his settlement was attacked and overrun out of nowhere by the frost giant tribe of which there had been peace for many years. The entirety of thr colony was massacred, not prepared for assault of such means, Gorrenbur held an axe to defend his home, praying to moradin for protection, but in a moment of panic and fear fled his home. Running the nearest path to safety, after days or running and hiding to avoid the dangers of the arctic desert he found himself alone, lost, and ashamed of his cowardice.     With no means of traversing back home or finding a way out of the frozen wastes Gorrenbur scraped and scrapped for survival, killing a den of winter wolves in their dens while they slept, cubs and all, needing the shelter and the meat. Over the course of 80 years Gorrenbur eventually became a resident feature of his new home, learning by trial and error to survive, killing great bears, wolves, yeti, and any manner of creature to survive. Adapting his combat training with the wild feral fighting of an animal. He cast off his worship of Moradin, knowing he'd been abandoned by the dwarf God and threw his prayers to clangeddin silverbeard the dwarf God of War, asking for strength and help to destroy the giants. One day while hunting two frost giants came across Gorrenburs path, in a fit of rage and shame at his prior cowardice he threw himself at them, taking great wounds, losing two fingers on his hand to a near miss, and as heay dying and bleeding the one remaining frost giant fled in terror, Gorrenbur was unsure why until he turned and saw ghostly Visage of his ancestors, Led by the aged gnared visage of his Uncle Bilgim Bouldermarrow, an eye patched elderly dwarf whos specter viewed Gorrenbur with furious and feverous disappointment, hatred, and shame, the fallen people of his clan standing behind him. From that day forth he heard the voices and calls of his people, as well as seeing them form a lot of the time. He did not know if he was mad, cursed, or blessed, but seeing their faces tortured him and made him consider if it would be best to simply end his life and rejoin his kinfolk in shame or live on to spite them and show them he could regain that honor.     After a long while living as a lone hermit in the snow, eventually a mercenary company on mission to hunt polar bears came by, gorrenbur decided to speak with them and learn the proper way out to civilization. Taking the name Iceborn     Now for many many years Gorrenbur has traveled and worked as a hired muscle, wild guide, and morally grey man at arms for whoever has the coin. Pleasuring the murder of any giants and scoffing at dwarven obsession with moradin and his pitiful justice. He has learned his ancestors not only will further participate in battle but seem to protect those around Gorrenbur, preventing them from harm and discouraging enemies from attacking them, they do not however provide the same extention to Gorrenbur, letting him take his wounds and even encouraging combatants to face Gorrenbur out of some ghostly logic of retribution and trial of regained honor for one that should have died with is people.     Gorrenbur is found nowadays walking still clad in the furs of winter wolves and polar bears, with a massive greataxe he fashioned from the humorous of a giant melded with the melted down and smithed dagger of a giant., across his back cross two battle axes fashioned out of sharpened obsidian he found in a frozen cave. And strapped to his side two handaxes fashioned himself out of chiseled rock and sharpened bones of wolves. Gorrenbur has dark emerald eyes that seem to view everyone as potential danger or potential food, dirty blonde hair left wild and unkempt along with a waist length beard kept clean and braided to honor his family. Missing the middle and ring fingers on his right hand as well as missing his leg from the shin down on the left side, he now walks on a forged prosthetic to replace the meager contraption he formed in the waste, he also sports a triple star from claws of a snow leopard that go horizontally from his nose across an eye all the way back to his ear.     He is not fond of civility or politeness though he has been for over a hundred years back around people and conforms to what is necessary, he surprisingly is quite congenial and warm despite his dark mind and constant reminder of his shame by ghosts of his kin. Easy to make a fried over drink or a good scrap
Year of Death
Circumstances of Death
Died in Battle against Tharizdun
Related Myths

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