Throk Moldamar

Throk Moldamar, Everyone's Friend

Dwarves do not like to see their craft arming other people's regiments. Throk made his fortune from it. He supplies the kingdom's military with weapons forged in the mountain, and every contract signed outside is paid for inside: a forge rebuilt here, a moon well restored there, a table open to anyone passing through. The cities know, and they thank him all the same. No one has ever asked how long bought gratitude can hold out against resentment. He has.

Describe him

A massive dwarf, better dressed than anyone in the room, without ever tipping into flash. He doesn't need it, the gold of his rings and clasps weighs enough to speak for him. He greets the water carrier by his first name and the lord by his title, with the same smile. Wherever he goes, people stand a little straighter. He has already recognized you, or he pretends so well that it comes to the same thing.

Play him

Make him welcoming, always. Have him invite the players for a drink in the busiest place in town, begging them not to tell a soul. Let him smooth out their small affairs, a debt, a pass, a supplier, with sincere warmth: small trade is his way of staying close to people. Then say the word "army" and a number in the same sentence. The smile stays, the warmth leaves, and you are suddenly talking to the coldest man in town.

What he says (rarely)
"Sit down, drinks are on me. But don't go shouting it about, eh!"
"A pass? Give me an hour and the sergeant's name."
(setting down his glass, without raising his voice) "Three hundred blades, delivered before winter. Now, let's talk about what you haven't told me."