Dunkler Bock

Dunkler is an antisocial recluse, formerly found almost exclusively sequestered in his laboratory in the University of Wynarn in Fairhaven, tinkering with some widget or other. Now, he seeks knowledge on the road - a risky endeavor.....


Dunkler Bock

Level 2 Dwarven Battlesmith Artificer, Master Mixer and Maker, Cannith Inventor Extraordinaire
Background: Cannith Inventor, specializing in Arcana, item enchantment and alcohol consumption

Age: 105
Height: 4’3”
Weight: 220lbs
Disposition: grumpy

Str 10, Con 19, Dex 10, Int 16, Wis 13, Cha 8

AC: 16 Fort: 16 Reflex: 14 Will: 13
HP: 36 Surges: 10 Surge Value: 9

Arcana +11, Dungeoneering +9, Heal +7, History +9, Perception +7

Artificer: Ritual Caster
Level 1: Mark of Making
Level 2: Implement Expertise (Wand)

Artificer at-will 1: Static Shock
Artificer at-will 1: Magic Weapon
Artificer daily 1: Icebound Sigil
Artificer utility 2: Swift Mender

Master’s Wand of Static Shock +1

Make Whole, Brew Potion


Originally of the Mror Holds, and born to a clan dedicated to House Kundarak, Dunkler spent his childhood in the Ironroot Mountains. He never fit in, though – while other Dwarves were busy searching for new veins of rich ore to mine, or squabbling over mineral rights and other economic interests, Dunk secreted himself away, fiddling with any objects he could find – taking them apart, rebuilding, improving or otherwise tinkering.

A holy pilgrimage to the Fist of Onatar with his family changed everything. Peering into the caldera of the Fist, an active volcano in the southern reaches of the Ironroots, bubbling over with molten magma and a raw, untamed source of elemental power, Dunkler received a vision from Onatar himself. He was to leave the Mror Holds, and seek knowledge elsewhere, for he had the Dragonmark of Making, not of Warding like many of his brethren. His destiny was sealed: become a legendary crafter, an alchemist, enchanter and crafter of magic items such as had never been seen before in all of Khorvaire.

Though young, he was determined to make his way to Aundair, a place of learning and the heart of arcane studies in the Five Nations. He found his chance when a merchant caravan passed through the Holds. He joined as a traveling scholar, and provided the caravan with various trinkets and potions to pay for the journey. He learned of Arcanix and the wizard-towers that floated over Lake Galifar in Aundair, and of the laboratories and halls within, the professors and guildmasters who could teach him the arcane secrets he sought so desperately. He knew this was to be his new home.

On arrival, his optimism was shattered when the wizards of Arcanix turned him away. “Do you think we teach young fools for free? Go to Wynarn – they let anyone in!”. And so he did. Despondent but with few options, Dunkler headed to the University of Wynarn. There he was welcomed, for his skills were apparent to the Headmaster of the School of Arcane Studies, and Wynarn allowed almost anyone through its doors. His displeasure with the Arcanix wizards never left him, however, and he become more and more a recluse, grumpy and dissatisfied with everyone who approached him.

After several years at Wynarn, he found himself a laboratory in the basement of a run-down building at the edge of the University grounds. It was perfect – filled with old test tubes, beakers, chemicals, lab gear and even a fully functioning forge. Stockpiling supplies like a hermit, he rarely left the confines of his lab, once even for over two months.

Though he became quite solitary, he did have a few friends who came by from time to time, at least those who somehow managed to withstand his now quite potent stench and grumpy demeanor. Together, they studied the finer arts of magick, especially with regard to the enchantment of items in ways that had never been tried before. He learned to add a coating of magical frost to a hammer, or place a sheen of poison on a blade’s edge. Creation of a flaming weapon became his obsession, to honor Onatar and his memory of the Fist, but it eluded him. Perhaps someday he could master that fine art, but that day was always just out of reach.

With frustration mounting, and the secret of fire always beyond his grasp, he came to the conclusion that he could only train so much while at Wynarn. Emerging from the bowels of his lab, grimy and disheveled from his years of secluded study, Dunkler decided that travel to distant lands was the only way he could accumulate the knowledge that somehow escaped him in Aundair. If only he could move from place to place in Khorvaire, or indeed all of Eberron, without the annoying delays imposed by primitive transport – bah! Solving that was a yet another problem he vowed to tackle, just one of many that he tucked away in his mind, a mystery he hoped to uncover in the fullness of time.

Picking up bits of knowledge here and there, traveling with caravans and merchants most of the time, Dunkler spent several years on the road. He learned much, but it was a slow, painstaking process. Most of those he met knew nothing of High Arcana, and were bewildered by what to them was his dizzying display of the arts of enchantment.

His disposition only got worse, but the simplicity of raw Dwarven determination and the memory of Onatar’s appearance to him so many years prior drove even Dunkler to gasp at the thought: adventure with a mercenary company. Leave these oblivious tradeskeepers behind! He knew that the vast knowledge he seeked would surely be accompanied with danger, but he was driven beyond all reason. Without regard for personal safety (had he finally gone insane?), he brought only the tools and equipment he could carry, selling off the rest, and made his way to Sharn, City of Towers, and Morgrave University. Perhaps there he will discover the arcane knowledge he seeks, or perhaps find others who can help him in his quest to become the greatest Master Crafter in all of Eberron!

And someday, he will make his way back to Arcanix, and teach the wizards there a thing or two about enchanting…...

Dunkler Bock

Prophecy Immorto