Volka Ironhand

A true and stout dwarf, unshakable in her resolve


A shout woman with long black hair, braided back for convenience rather then ecstatics, with a face and hands weathered from long hours mining, with scars marked with dust of iron and coal. With leather breeches, short sleeved tunic, and heavy boots little about her dress or body language says feminine.


Both parents died to an orc raid, leaving Volka and her 3 brothers to be raised by their Grandfather Thane in his mine in Janderhoff. He was a harsh man and a stout traditionalist, morning the loss of his son and daughter in law left him with little love to give for his own grieving grandchildren. This taught a young Volka that nothing would simply be given to her, even love had to be earned through hard work. Most of the days for the young Ironhand clan was filled with drudgery and toil, mining hard unyielding rock for iron, and no exceptions were made for Volka. The brief time they had to themselves was often spent rough housing, hunting, and other dwarvenly activities, but Volka took more of an interest in her grandfather, listening to his stories of their clan, in particular a predominate ancestor who was a master of law.

At about 30 years old Volka, having established herself as her grandfathers favorite, often accompanied him to market. During one of these dealings she noticed that something seemed “off” about a trader, something in the way he held himself, closer examination revealed the trader to be using rigged weights. Red faced and spewing curses she berated the man for doing something so “undwarvenly” as to try and cheat a fellow dwarf, to which the trader responded with simply scampering off. A cleric of Torag had been witness to the event and not only complimented her on her keen eyes but her zeal, wondering if she had ever thought of going into the church? While the idea didn’t appeal greatly to Volka her grandfather saw it as the best possible outcome as it had worked out for his eldest grandson, and agreed on the spot to set her granddaughter up with the church of Torag.

Being forcibly sent to a cloister without so much as asking her what she thought Volka was less then enthused with training right off the bat, she found herself a poor smith, less prone to stoicism, finding it all rather dull, and most worryingly when she prayed to Torag, she heard silence. But not all was bad, for she found that the libraries of Torag were plentiful and she devoured with an aplomb, particularly that of law and history. As the years wore on Volka noticed corruptions within Janderhoff, shifty merchants, traders, guards, and leaders, and that the church of Torag seemed far more concerned with preserving tradition and forging weapons then doing anything about it. This frustration brewed for years until one night, in another long series of prayers to Torag to finish the final part of her apprenticeship she demanded to know why Torag choose to do noting while the people in his own city perverted or ignored the law?

Torag did not answer, but someone did, a being with a voice old as the rock and just as warm “Torag does not ignore these slights child, it is not his concern but mine, the Debtminder. We have watched you child, Torag and I, and we can see his way is not your path, not at all. I see your love of law, and of justice, and desire to punish those who would usurp it! It is with me you will find your way child, you have no other path.” Volka, both terrified and awestruck asked who the voice belonged to, and thou the voice had no form she could almost see it’s lips curving into a small smile “I am Dranngvit child, and you were mine from the day you were born.” at that moment she felt a certainty she had never known before, a keen understanding of who she truly was, and Dranngvits voice seemed to echo all around her “Will you join me child, will you go down the path you were forged for, or will you be left adrift in this cruel world?” and Volkas words were spoken in an instant without thought or doubt, echoing throughout the temple “Yes! I will follow you Debtminder, I will be your hand on this world!” In the morning she went to the high priests of Torag, and while they not surprised they were also not saddened by the loss, for they had known Volka was not to be one of theirs for some time now. With the best wishes of the church she left into Janderhoff to enact Dranngvits justice.

In her quest for justice she came to know an iterate oracle named Amairgen. The odd Elf was one of the few people she could never tell if he was genuine or simply a conman, but he seemed to take a shine to her, accompanying her on her tasks and briefly becoming lovers, but it would not last, the two were simply too different to ever be truly together, so with no goodbyes or last kisses Volka left one silent evening, never to see Amairgen again, but the memories of him and the things he had taught her would never leave.

Having spent a good 20 years in the cloister left her more or less cut off from her family, spending some of her time reconnecting she learned that her Grandfather had recently passed and Harsk had taken over the mine. He was trying his best to keep afloat but there was simply no more iron left in the mine, he discussed with her what to do. He considered setting up shop in Janderhoffs markets but Volka quickly dissuaded him, she knew the markets were crowded as it and Harsk would not fare well. With very few options left he thought of going to the human city of Korvosa, he admitted he was apprehensive about going to such a different place with no support from anyone. Volka offered to come with him, she wouldn’t be much help to him in terms of business but she would provide moral support for her brother, with the knowledge that he wouldn’t go it alone he quickly sold the mine and packed his things for Korvosa, the future unsure but wide.


  • books (particularly mystery novels)
  • Rough Housing
  • Bowling
  • Spicy Food
  • Bards


  • Thieves
  • Zealots
  • Cheats
  • Idleness or Sloth


  • Alkgun: Eldest son, paladin of Torag
  • Harsk: Second Eldest, took over grandpa’s mine
  • Igmar: Youngest, became a warrior

Volka Ironhand

The Ruinlords Present Curse of the Crimson Throne makotoichijoji ihatethemarket