Kothek
Dwarf Cleric of Kaladim

I was once asked by a haughty High Elf Cleric, "Why be a Cleric, Dwarf?" At the time I only glanced up from my ale long enough to ask him, "Why not?" Elves have a problem with we brawny beings having such a profession; as if it is only for tall, beautiful people. Harrumph. Yet later, as the ale began to seep into my thick skull, I pondered the question. It was then that I realized why a race made to be strong and tough could fancy casting magic and healing the weak. Because we are strong and tough – and what is better than having the ability to bash and to mend! What a power trip that is, eh?

My father, Norfir, was a Paladin (may Brell bless his soul). I was always impressed at his ability to heal as well as kill with a striking blow. Truth be known, a Cleric can sit back and drink ale while the rest of the group worries about combat. Now that is a profession for any self-respecting Dwarf if you ask me! Some might prefer to get their hands bloody, but, myself – I prefer to live and drink another day.

My first love was Moniah Throril. What an ugly, bearded lass was she! It broke my little stone heart when she ran off with that scoundrel, the Warrior, Guldor Anun. Later, I realized Guldor did me quite a service. I don't know that I could've loved daughters with a beard fuller than my own.

So now you've heard my tale. If you need a heal, a resurrection, or a good drinking companion, I am your Dwarf.


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