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[h3][center][b]Clan Bright Shield[/b][/center][/h3]

[h3][center][b]Muin Agrim "The Bright Shield"[/b][/center][/h3] 
[hider=Bio]
[b]Brief biography of your clan's leader[/b]: The second son of the late Master Muin did not come into the world alone. Agrim and Ragnar were always each a piece of a pair, living in each others shadows. The heir and the spares people used to call them (until yet more brothers came along) and it was a title Agrim himself could speak with a smile. Who wanted to be the heir anyway? All the pressure and restrictions, no that wasn't something Agrim wanted for himself. He was the rebellious, drunken lech of a young dwarf, always getting into fights or being thrown out on his ear for making eyes at a lass he shouldn't. Though it was a common bragging point that none could take the second born twins in a fight when they were together (neither brother cared if it wasn't totally true). 

It was decided that this lad was in need of discipline, so Agrim quickly learned that part of the trade off of being the spare was that you were destined for a life in the military. Apparently the kindness of his father that had kept Agrim from that life had worn thin when he'd been caught bedding a wealthy merchant's daughter. This one apparently couldn't be trusted to become the new warden of the valley.

Never one to shy away from a brawl, Agrim proved himself skilled in the art of smacking heads together in the sparring circle. It only took some harsher smacks on the head from the master at arms to thrash some true soldiers spirit into him. Then the call for the banners came to their valley. The high king rallied his forces to war and each dwarven lord was expected to send their tithe of warriors to throw back this fresh incursion of orcs and goblins. It was a bittersweet goodbye as he shook Ragnar's hand for what each thought to be the last time. 

[i]“And this one! I want to see that beard down to his knees when I get back!” Agrim roared, giving his young nephew a light punch on the arm. Both brothers gave an overly hearty laugh. Forcing a smile made it easier to wave goodbye.[/i]   

Agrim would not return to his ancestral valley for many years. Serving in the front lines of the conflict at its height and serving in garrisons when it hit its lulls. It was in the fire of war that Agrim found himself, battered and hardened like a blade in the forge, the lad found his true purpose in life and when the time came stepped up to the role of leadership. It was in the battle of Azul's Folly that Agrim earned himself the name of “Bright Shield”. The goblin hordes had found their way into the mountain halls of Clan Azul. During the battle it was said that Agrim held a swarm of the wretches in a bottleneck in one of the clan's mining shafts, buying valuable time for reinforcements time to rally and form up for a counter attack. This wouldn't be the last time Agrim proved himself on the battlefield as he went about earning a fine reputation for himself among his fellow warriors and the nobility. 

The horrors of war had tempered the petulance of his youth, if not his lust for drink and song. When Agrim returned home he was a changed dwarf and one ready to settle down. He was gifted a stretch of land near the lake across from his father's keep and given leave to resettle the abandoned lands there. When it came time to build his clan Agrim was sure to spread word beyond the valley, offering up work and a new home to his old shield brothers.    

It did something to keep him busy given the other news he was given on his return. 

[i]The mountains of the pass loomed overhead as beautiful as ever, it was good to finally see the damn things again. “Ho there, sentry! Look what the bloody wolves dragged in! Where's our good warden?” The look on their face told him immediately that something was wrong. Half of Angrim hadn't made it home.
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[hider=Clan history and members]
[b]Recent history of your clan in brief[/b]: Agrim was livid with rage and grief at the death of his father at the hand of goblins, spilling out from the lands of his own clan no less! After the funeral rights were settled Agrim swore a sun oath and a moon oath to see his father avenged and to see the valley littered with goblin blood! The clan has been acting as if they were ready for war, renewing their defenses and sending scouting parties out to hunt down the goblin menace. 

So far Agrim has stayed out of the family politics. Unfortunately so far he has had to temper his rage so far, knowing that his first duty is to the living under his banner, but preparing against the goblins and against the beasts of the wild is much the same in his eyes. 

[b]Fia Valten[/b] – A dwarf lass with a spirit as fiery as the colour of her hair. Fia is a merchants daughter, raised in the family trade, with a good head for numbers and business. She's also Agrim's wife and -according to him – the real brains of the clan. The two of them found plenty of premarital comfort in each others' company during their youth. When Agrim returned to the valley they reconnected and it didn't take too long for him to work up the nerve to propose. 

[i]“You're damn right you'll marry me!” Was her response. “You know how long I've had to put up with folk wondering when someone's gunna make an honest woman of me?” Agrim could only stutter out a bewildered response, he'd expected her to be a little more... blushing.
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[b]Braden Stonehammer[/b] – One of Agrim's old war buddies, a veteran sword bearer, pale in beard and eye. Ever pessimistic and in a perpetually grim mood. He and Agrim met each other in the northern campaign, fighting side by side on multiple occasions and forming a bond of trust that only brothers of the battlefield could know. Braden was offered the chance to become Agrim's master at arms, a place he took with pride. Training and maintaining the clans warband of veterans. The past year has embittered him though, as he's watched his chief fade from the fierce warrior he was and be disrespected by pompous whelps who have never even seen the ancient foes. He pushes Agrim to prepare their forces, believing it is only a matter of time before the other clans strike.     

[i]“He asked me if I wanted to keep up the career, spend my days shouting at whelps with arse hair for beards and freezin' myself stiff in the mountains and in return I'd be man of standin' with his own fancy house and fine food and clothes to have. I said to him... I could become accustomed to that.”[/i]

[b]Wotin & Odella[/b] – An old greybeard too stiff in the joint to tend his sheep. Wotin found his place as the village elder, not only because of his age but because of his beautiful (and rarely used) voice. When Agrim first heard it in the village tavern he was taken aback, thinking it bloody unfair that the old crone should have such a golden tone. After spending a few nights in the keep Wotin was named the chief's bard. His place is to sing at events and the chief's table, and to keep the stories of the ancestors and the clan fresh in their minds. He'd happy to do it so long as he can stay at the tavern most nights.  

Odella is his daughter. A young dwarf lass who now tends her family flocks and unlike her father, never stops talking. She had a love for gossip that rivals the dwarven lust for gold. Her habit of worming her way into most of the clans inner dramas has placed her in the unofficial place as Agrim's eyes and ears in the clan. 

[b]Brond:[/b] A rare thing, a dwarf that works with wood. And earth and other things, but the young woodcutter sees himself as an engineer and self made man. An ambitious engineer, Brond saw Agrim as his chance to make it in the valley. He is hungry for oportunity and sees the variety of smaller industries that the clan can call upon as a box tools and toys with which to prove himself and to build a better holding. Agrim was more than happy to have a builder with some energy about him and a way to make use of the forests he'd inherited. 


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[hider=Clan details]
[b]Location of the clan:[/b]  The clan is located across the lake in clear view of Muin's keep.
[b]Population of the clan:[/b]  1543
[b]Main settlement(s) and  economical activities of the clan:[/b] 
[b]Sternhold Keep[/b] is a fortified castle built into the base of the mountain on the northern edge of Kalerodom Lake. The old thing has seen better days but Agrim considers it a fixer upper. He keeps a number of masons from his fathers household around to help restore and fortify it even further. It serves as a commanding guard post to deploy troops from forcing attackers to face them head on. 

[b]High Hearth[/b] is the village in the hills near the lake mountain. The dwarves who live there are mostly farmers by trade, tending sheep for mutton and wool to see through the winter with a few cows offering milk. The vegetables grown up there have to be tough enough to survive the cold the northern climbs, the only reliable harvests tend to be carrots and potatoes that are planted deep and early in the season so they can see out the frost in soily comfort. The rangers tend to make their home there, along with some of the warriors Agrim brought back with him who serve as a militia garrison and hunters to keep back any predators in the woods to the north. The pelts they get from it make some good cloaks and trade items too. 

Of course there are miners among the clan, no dwarven clan could speak its name with pride without numbering some sons of the earth among their number. Though they don't seek any precious metals. Simple stone from the quarry is always welcome for building efforts and any ore that's found is quickly worked over by the smiths for tools and weapons. 

Given their closeness to the lake Plenty of younger dwarves of the clan work the lakeside for fish and clay, finding an honest living and work the land like their ancestors. 
 
[b]Military forces of the clan:[/b] 
[b]20 Rangers[/b] – The scouts of the dwarven war hosts. These lads are trained to survive in the wild and equipped to move quick and quiet. Lightly armoured, they carry supplies to survive in the wild along with bows and hand axes. Agrim gained a great respect for their type during his time in the Green Wilds where the ranger troupes saved his hide more times than his pride would allow him to repeat. 

[b]42 Crossbows[/b] – Warriors of the line. Clothed in chainmail and shields strapped to their backs. Those bolts pack a mean punch when fired by these trained marksmen. 

[b]70 Warriors[/b] – The linemen of the dwarven armies. These stout hearted, heavily armoured, lads form the shieldwall, fighting with axe and hammer in hand.   

[b]1 Balista and 3 crew [/b]– Ah old Hilda, how we love her so. A rugged bolt thrower set up to help defend the keep. Agrim had to really grease some palms to be able to bring her back.

[b]How much does your clan respect the Gods and the old traditions?[/b]
Agrim would consider himself a godly Dwarf. He pays respect to the priests, heeding their words and he wont deny calling on the aid of the gods when things seemed lost. But he doesn't see it as a thing to ram down folks' throats. Agrim doesn't feel any need to engage in great philosophical debate and ignores any who would say he just pays the gods lip service. 

The folk of the clan as a whole are considered moderates.

[b]What justifies your claim for the lordship of the Valley?[/b]
“You've seen how it is, Agrim. The valley needs a leader and none hear can answer that call. Dourhorn is too weak and that clan of his, Reverant? Damnation, they sound like a bloody cult! He'll see folk burned at the stake. Hornfel's too brash, you seen him, he spits on the old ways that made us. Him and his house think they're better than all else in the valley. He'd take the lord's treasure and sell this place to the highest bidder before leading it. Then there's Leth... he's still a boy I tell you. All fire and spark, he isn't long enough on this earth to lead a whole valley. Folk respect you, heard of you and drank to that name and seen you drink beside them. That leaves you to the task.”

Agrim hasn't said anything on the matter other than he refuses to press a claim. The place of heir falls to the eldest and he will not be the one to draw blades against kin. But in his heart he doubts his older brother's ability to lead. And with bitterness brewing in the hearts of their kin it may be time for him to cast away his hopes of peace within the valley.

[b]Quote one thing that makes your clan special among the others[/b]
Many of Clan Bright Shield served in the High King's war host at some point, having come to the valley due to the draw of their new chieftain. Of course not all of them are new comers but many of the warriors married into older valley families. This gives them a much more experienced warrior force if not a larger one.[/hider]