His talent is being replaced with the following effect: Damage taken is reduced by 20%, while the effectiveness of healing and shields received is increased by 20%. While frozen, damage taken is reduced by 50%, while the effectiveness of healing and shields received is increased by 50%.
Blacklast Bastion
Replaces the Talent effect with: For every 1 enemy target(s) blocked by the hero, reduces his DMG taken by 9%, stacking up to 4 time(s).
Fort Blacklast was under siege. A section of the outer wall had collapsed, ripping a gap wide enough for the enemy to pour through. Brokkir, unwilling to tolerate such shoddy workmanship, dragged a slab of masonry from the rubble, fitting it with crude handles.
Then he wedged himself into the gap, answering each crash against the shield with a stream of Dwarven profanity. When reinforcements finally arrived, they mistook him for the wall itself.
08
Brothers in the Snow
"There is no dwarf alive that can craft a finer blade. But don't ever pat his head. He's… touchy."
- King Harz
On one of King Harz's rare ventures south, he passed through the Dwarven Mountains seeking a replacement for his broken blade -- one that could withstand the harsh wear and tear of the northern tundra. He'd heard rumors of a dwarven blacksmith possessing great talent, but who was considered somewhat of a pariah due to his affinity for enchanting -- a practice shunned by most dwarves. The blacksmith's name? Brokkir, The Frosthammer.
So impressed was King Harz with Brokkir that he all but pleaded with the dwarf to travel with him north to Fort Blacklast where he would assume command of the fort's forge and be free to craft and enchant weapons for all of the forces stationed there. Taking one look at his empty registry of Dwarven clientele, Brokkir agreed.
The north suited the dwarf well, and he quickly garnered the respect of the warriors under King Harz's command. It didn't hurt that he could outdrink the entire company, and when he sent one knight through a wall for patting him on the head in praise, the men knew he was truly one of their own.
When King Harz led an expedition to vanquish a band of ice trolls wreaking havoc on passing travelers, Brokkir offered to accompany his most trusted friend. The king was touched, but asked Brokkir to remain behind to look after the fort. When several days passed without word from the expeditionary force, Brokkir feared the worst and set off alone through the tundra to learn the fate of the man who'd given him new purpose.
In the midst of a blizzard two days later, a young sentry spotted a small but stalwart figure trudging through the chest-high snow carrying an unconscious man more than twice his size. Brokkir had returned with the king.
The dwarf remained at his friend's side as he recovered. When King Harz finally had his full wits about him, these are the words the loyal blacksmith bestowed upon him: "We should go back for the troll heads. Sure to be fetchin' us a pretty penny."