Rurik Ironfist is a mountain dwarf of the Ironspine Holds, a place of deep halls, roaring forges, and warriors carved from stone itself. Born into a long line of blacksmiths and battle-hardened fighters, he was expected to take up the hammer and carry on the family craft. But the forge never held the same pull for him as the thrill of combat. The sound of steel clashing, the taste of victory, the satisfaction of a foe felled by his own hand—those were the things that truly called to him.

Leaving his homeland behind, Rurik sought adventure beyond the halls of his ancestors. His road eventually led him to Harrow’s End, a place rough enough to suit his temperament and sturdy enough to remind him of home. Though not where he was born, the town has become the closest thing to a home he’s known in years. When not out chasing down trouble—or more often, finding himself in the thick of it—he can be found in one of Harrow’s End’s taverns, swapping battle tales over a flagon of ale, or carving runes into his weapons, a habit he picked up from the old shamans of his youth.

Rurik is as stubborn as a stone wall and as fierce as the forge-fire. He’s got little patience for magic, too much patience for ale, and an undying hatred for sand—“Blasted stuff gets everywhere!” But beneath his gruff exterior beats the heart of a loyal friend and a steadfast warrior. He doesn’t run from a fight, doesn’t leave a comrade behind, and he sure as hell doesn’t let some reckless youngling get himself killed without knocking some sense into him first.

A warrior, a survivor, and a dwarf through and through, Rurik Ironfist may not have a kingdom to call his own, but wherever his axe falls, there stands his domain.