Goffred Brassclad Champion Lore
There are few names that strike fear into the hearts of the sailors and seafarers of Teleria as much as Goffred Brassclad. Some claim that the Dwarf and the mighty warship that bears his name are both nothing more than maritime legends, tall tales invented or, at the very least, exaggerated by sailors looking to spin a yarn good enough to earn themselves a free round of tavern grog. The wiser ones don’t repeat the stories, for they know that they are not really stories at all, but accounts pointing to the existence of the one of the most implacable and unyielding warriors to ever take to the high seas.
Goffred was born with sea salt in his blood. There remains no greater naval power in all of Teleria than the grand fleet of the Dwarf kingdom of the Skyiron Dominion, and as the son of one of Skyiron’s admirals, Goffred was more accustomed to the quarterdeck than he was the mountain slopes of the cantons or the forges buried beneath the rocks. He had every intention of following his father in nautical service to the Dominion, but when that day came, it was sooner than Goffred would have liked.
Not long after he had come of age, the youthful Goffred was acting as a petty officer on the frigate Fyrstone. Along with other war vessels under his father’s command, the ship was assigned to guard one of the fabled Dwarf treasure fleets as it traversed the seas between the Dominion and Gloomdeep Hold. Such a duty was always fraught with peril, for while the Skyiron Navy provided the greatest of protection, there was no prize more alluring than a Dwarf ship with a hold laden down with gold and silver.
On this particular voyage, temptation proved too much for a Gaellen pirate fleet hailing from the Sorrowlakes. It struck at the Dwarven convoy as it made its return journey to the Dominion. Unwilling to lose even a single ship, Goffred’s father signaled to the other vessels to hold their course as he turned his own to keep the Gaellen forces at bay. Goffred begged the captain of the Fyrstone to turn and aid his father, but orders were orders. All he could do was watch as the flagship sank beneath the waves after a long, brutal battle, taking his beloved father with it.
As strong as an ocean’s swell, cold fury gripped Goffred. When he made it back to the Dominion he made every effort to convince the kingdom’s moot that greater investment was needed in order to protect the treasure fleets. He also spent his inheritance on commissioning one of the greatest warships that would ever sail with the Skyiron Navy. He named it Brassclad, sheeting its flanks in the metal that now shielded his own soul, and rendering it impervious to almost any stone or bolt launched by an enemy ship.
In a thinly-veiled quest for vengeance, Goffred set out to lure the Gaellen pirates responsible for his father’s death into attacking another treasure fleet, hiding Brassclad in a cove as the apparently lightly-protected convoy passed the place his father’s ships had been attacked. The Gaellens took the bait, and swiftly regretted it. Brassclad was unstoppable, a floating metal mountain that spat great arcs of charge from the lightning launchers that bristled along its sides, igniting sails, blasting apart timber, and making steel and iron run molten. By the end of the engagement, the Gaellen fleet had been reduced to burning hulks floating around the Brassclad’s unyielding bulk.
Ever since that day, Goffred has overseen the safe passage of the treasure fleets. Irascible and uncompromising, he is now as battle-scarred and hardened as the gouged brass flanks of his flagship, and just as at home a part of boarding parties or shore expeditions as he is giving commands from beside the capstan. Those few who manage to steal any of the gold the fleets carry will find themselves hunted the length and breadth of Teleria, whether on land or sea. The hammer and mace Brassclad wields can shatter bulkheads as easily as they do shields, and his own chain-clad armor deflects the blows of the enemy as surely as his ship’s metal skin can. The crews of the treasure fleets rest easy in their berths knowing that the mighty Brassclad watches over their vessels. There is a good reason why only the desperate or the foolhardy attempt to steal riches from the Dwarf treasure convoys now — to do so, they would have to get past Goffred, and then survive his pursuit. There are none more relentless, on either sea or land, than Brassclad.