Harden Hartwood

168-year-old veteran adventurer and guildmaster of the oldest active adventurer's guild in the whole continent.


Visible objects on person:

  • Embroided wooden cane of elven craftmanship.
  • Grayish woolen tunic with thick leather belt to keep pants up.
  • Worn-out leather slippers.

A gruffy looking old man with grey hair and badly shaven beard. He lost his right eye in his younger days and a few teeth to boot. Once proud pose has been turned to the gait of an old man with a back ache and enhusiastic adventuring spirit into negativity and pessimism.

The senile old bastard looks has seen it all and he has… great dragons flying the skies, mighty mages hurling spells and death of all his former fellow adventurers. His fixation on honoring his dead friends and the memory of their heroic deeds by teaching youngsters the art of adventuring is all that has kept the guild up for more than two decades. Now his mind seems to be starting to break down as he often loses himself in the past and can hardly manage even to take care of himself.

As a guildmaster he has always been versatile and knowledgeable, even if somewhat harsh. His lessons range from basic trap disabling to rudimentary magicks, but his speciality seems to be swordfighting. In the guild hall on the rack stands his old full plate armor and in the gathering room over the mantlepeace is his evidently magical longsword. A guild secret nowdays though.

Harden Hartwood

Steamworks & Magick Obscura Darksheer