Bramrik the Ironjaw
A dwarven blacksmith with a literal iron jaw and a long history of putting honest metal in dangerous hands.
- Kind
- Dwarf
- Occupation
- The Blacksmith
- Whereabouts
- The forge
In their own words
I made your first knuckles, lad. Try not to need your last.
Honest metal. Honest price. The flattery costs extra.
Same iron as the jaw. Go on. Ask if it rusts.
Bramrik’s name is not a metaphor. A riveted iron jaw replaces the lower part of his face, and his words come through it in a grinding growl. “Bram” is a dwarven blacksmith, a weaponsmith of considerable pride, and the man who forged Vinnie’s first pitfighter knuckles.
Honest metal
Gruff, blunt, and sparing with praise, Bramrik judges a customer by how they hold a blade. Every sentence lands like a hammer blow. He takes his craft seriously enough to seem rude about it, but his metal and his prices are honest. Coming back alive earns more respect than flattery ever will.
His humour is dry, especially where the jaw is concerned. The scorched apron, tool belt, brass-bound braids, and enormous axe are all practical parts of a working day. So is the hard stare.
Old customers, old arguments
His connection with Vinnie goes back to the pits, long before the Archive’s shelves became the centre of the goblin’s world. He keeps fighters equipped at the forge and has a habit of turning up wherever reliable steel is needed.
Picket’s “mostly genuine” wares are a recurring source of disagreement. Bramrik has strong opinions about what constitutes real goods. Mags’s silence makes him suspicious; it has yet to stop him selling her excellent blades.
Made Vinnie’s first knuckles. They held up.
