Sister Bronwyn
A dwarven cleric of the Life Domain who travels the frontier dispensing healing and spiritual comfort to the isolated settlements near the Keep. Her faith is as sturdy as her constitution, and she never turns away a soul in need.
Dwarf
Cleric (Life Domain)
Acolyte
Neutral Good
Ability Scores
14
+2
8
-1
15
+2
10
+0
16
+3
12
+1
Skill Proficiencies
Character Details
Sister Bronwyn left her mountain home of Rockhearth Hall forty years ago after a plague swept through the lower tunnels and claimed two hundred dwarves, including her younger brother. The clan's priests were overwhelmed, and Bronwyn — then a simple stonemason — watched helplessly as her people died for lack of healers. She swore an oath that day to devote her remaining years to the healing arts, and journeyed to a human monastery where she trained in divine magic and herbalism. For decades she has wandered the frontier, treating wounds, curing diseases, and blessing harvests in villages too small and poor to support a temple of their own. She arrived at the Keep on the Borderlands after hearing reports of increased monster attacks and soldiers returning with wounds that festered unnaturally, suggesting dark magic at work in the Caves of Chaos. The Keep's small chapel welcomed her warmly, and she now tends to the garrison's wounded while preparing to venture into the caves herself to confront whatever evil is corrupting the land.
"I treat every injury with the same careful attention, whether it belongs to a castellan or a stable hand. Pain does not discriminate, and neither do I."
"Compassion. Every life has value. I will exhaust my magic and my strength before I let someone die on my watch."
"I failed to save my brother during the plague in Rockhearth Hall. I carry his name inscribed on my holy symbol as a reminder of why I heal."
"I refuse to leave wounded behind, even when staying to treat them puts the entire group in danger."
Appearance
Female
142
4'3"
155 lbs
Warm amber
Ruddy, with deep laugh lines around her eyes
Silver-streaked auburn, worn in two thick braids
A stout, maternal dwarf whose calloused hands speak of decades of practical work — first with stone, now with bandages and poultices. She wears well-traveled scale mail over a simple healer's apron, and her holy symbol — a golden sun with a name etched in Dwarvish runes — hangs from a thick chain around her neck. A heavy warhammer rides at her belt, its head engraved with prayers, a reminder that healing sometimes requires striking down the source of harm.