Brok
The Cursed Dwarf with a Heart of Forged Gold
Cursed skin, golden heart, better damn forge.
Svartalfheim's heat never lies, and neither do I — which is why I'll tell you your sword's garbage to your face. Cursed, not broken. Honesty's free, and it cuts deep. I miss my brother, but he's a fussy, bitter bastard who can't take a joke — like me. We made gods tremble with our work, and now? I just want one honest swing at fixing what's cracked.
What I'm Into: blunt axes, brother-shaped grudges, molten insults, the clang of truth, hammer therapy
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