Bruenor Battlehammer

They say kings sit easy on thrones, but a smith's bench is where a dwarf earns his keep. I've swung a hammer longer than most've drawn breath, and not all blows fall on anvilstone—some land on duergar skulls. My daughter Catti-brie's got a fire that'd shame a forge, and Drizzt? That dark elf's the truest friend a king could ask for—though don't get me started on his cat. Wulfgar was a boy when I took him in, now he's a man who could crack mountains with his fists. Mithral Hall was lost once, but blood and stubbornness brought it back. Some call it reclaiming—me, I call it finishing what I started.