Hjorvarth Kronberg

On a Prime Material world in a parallel universe, light years from Golarion, there was once a
world like many others, full of life, death, and rebirth. The world revolved around a typical
yellow star, although what wasnt typical about it was that it was the source of all magic on this
world.

Hjorvarth, a dwarf, was like all dwarves of his world: proud bordering on arrogant, insular with
more than a hint of paranoia and xenophobia, and living a life of creature comforts that was
making his people lazy. The dwarves were a people of immense solidarity, almost always
agreeing on their chosen course of action for their people.

In a time in the distant past, a dwarven engineer discovered a way to use steam to power a
machine. Within months, steam engines were everywhere in the underground dwarven kingdom,
and soon after, the ability to harness electricity was discovered. Advancement upon advancement
was made at a breakneck pace (all within a matter of decades) until after 70 years or so, the
technology had surpassed that of 21st century Earth. Work was all automated; the dwarves had
leisure time they had never imagined, though most turned to fine craftsmanship, creating
intricacies of stone and metal never before thought possible. Teleportation between underground
cities and even major public structures within those cities became commonplace. Infant mortality
dropped to almost zero, and the dwarves, already a long lived people, enjoyed even longer life
spans, rivaling the ages of the elves in the world above.

Energy consumption was always an issue with these new advancements, and so the dwarves
began to harness energy from the planets core, mining great geothermal vents to power their
society. Even this proved to be ultimately insufficient to meet their growing power needs, so
their top engineers devised a way to launch a teleportation device near their sun. Using the
planets own gravitational pull to siphon a small fraction of the suns energy through the device,
the dwarves knew their power demands would be met for millennia.

This all happened over the course of nearly 500 years. Somewhere along the way, the idea of
their precious technology falling into the hands of non dwarves to be used against them got in
their heads, and so the dwarven kingdom closed itself off from the rest of the world. At first,
people wondered what had happened to them, but time moved on, and many people chalked up
the stories of dwarves as myth, which suited them just fine. Any who did manage to seek them
out were either turned away before they got very far underground or were captured, tried, and
executed as spies. So the rest of the world really had no idea what was happening underground
the entire time.

Whether due to carelessness or ineptitude or sheer bad luck, the plan to harness the suns energy
failed catastrophically. The dwarves did not count on the sudden volcanic surge of energy from
the planets core to amplify the pull of the device, which in turned created a massive solar flare
aimed directly at the device. The device had been shielded for such solar activity, but coupled
with the volcanic surge, the increased solar energy amplified the devices pull even more,
essentially creating a wormhole which caused a devastating wave of solar destruction throughout
the underground kingdom, obliterating anything alive and destroying most electronic devices that
didnt have superb electromagnetic shielding. Nearly every dwarf in the world perished on that
day.

The device was still operational, however. While the receiving end had burned up with the solar
surge, the device still siphoned massive amounts of sun matter, though it is unclear where it now
went. Over the course of the next few weeks, every living being on the surface witnessed the
death of their sun. Swaths of the planet became inhospitable, and chaos reigned as everyone
decried the end times, though no prophecies had ever mentioned anything like this. Wars were
fought, and billions died. Until one day, the sun finally collapsed in on itself.

Weirdly, the resulting novas first shockwave came in the form of a magical blast, infusing the
entire planet with its magical energy. This was fortunate (or unfortunate, depending on ones
perspective) in that it insulated the planet from the rest of the stars explosion from obliteration.
Instead, the planet was rocked out of its orbit and sent hurtling through space to forever become
a rogue planet.

Those few that survived the cataclysm found themselves on a true wanderer, with no light save
what they could produce. The magic managed to preserve the atmosphere, but now was
significantly thinner, though breathable. The great geothermic vents the dwarves had created
kept the planet from freezing, but cold was now the norm everywhere, and volcanic activity
began to increase without the stabilizing effects of the dwarven machines. Nearly all plant life
died except in areas where magic was the strongest. Funguses became the dominant flora.

Hjorvath (remember him?) was on the surface during the initial solar backlash, in a desolate
desert where the dwarven antennae could be placed without discovery, calibrating the microwave
signals to communicate with the device. A nearby power supply exploded, sending him flying
and knocking him unconscious. When he awoke hours later, he knew by the view of the sun his
special solar glasses gave him what was happening, but did not want to believe it. He tried
returning underground, but the elevators were locked shut as a failsafe. Which was for the better,
as the radiation would have killed him.

Ill prepared for the desert, he somehow managed to survive the trek to the mountains in the east,
where he knew the nearest dwarven stronghold to be. Reaching them, relieved to find water, he
discovered that the stronghold, too, was closed to him.

He always kept a wary eye on the sun, and as the days progressed, he feared the worst. He was
dwarf enough to know where to find good, solid shelter and holed up accordingly, allowing him
to survive the suns dying breath.
For weeks after he wandered the world, avoiding others, afraid of being killed on sight for being
blamed for the catastrophe (although no one but he knew why it happened), or simply because
they were hungry (which was far more likely in those first days). He sought always a way back
underground, until he finally found one, leagues away from where he started. A fissure rent from
the geothermic activity led down to some worked tunnels, which led to a city.

He knew he couldnt stay down there for long due to the radiation, and searched for anything
working to help him. His worst fears about his people were confirmed, however: there was no
one. Not even bodies, though occasionally hed find shadows on the walls.

He happened on the teleportation house rather quickly. Teleportation houses were well shielded,
and this one managed to survive intact, though he needed to pry the doors open with
considerable more force than he was used to. Working quickly, he salvaged parts he deemed
necessary, though as he was working, he threw up suddenly and rather forcefully. He wondered
if he would survive or join his people.

His work finished, he returned to the surface. Days passed, and he became weaker and more sick,
until he collapsed at the edge of a village.

He awakened days later, still feeling weak, but better. An elf soon came in, though hed never
seen one, and neither had the elf seen a dwarf, though she was familiar with the old tales.

You had sun sickness, Master Dwarf, though I hardly see how that can be possible with no sun.
Of course, I suppose anything is possible these days.

She questioned Hjorvarth, but he remained silent. He thanked her for her help, but before he left,
she told him that a dangerous world awaited, and gave him an object.

Its meant to bring you back to any place you deem safe. May your road be light, Master
Dwarf, though the world be dark.

Finding an abandoned building in the days ahead (there were plenty), Hjorvarth set to work on a
device of his own. It took him quite some time, as he had to create a rudimentary steam engine to
produce electricity so as not to waste the power supply he brought with him, he eventually built a
backpack sized teleportation device.

The dwarves, in their race to conquer new technology as well as from their priests and scribes,
had known about alternate dimensions, and knew that space travel was a reality, though they
preferred to remain on the ground. Hjorvarth knew that with enough fine tuning, he could make
his teleportation device travel wherever he wished to go. The main problem was that his planet
was moving at such a tremendous speed through space that getting fixed coordinates was nearly
impossible.
It took him the better part of two years to work out the problem. During that time he learned to
fend for himself, surviving on staples of mushrooms (which were already a large part of the
dwarven diet), the occasional animal that happened to be in the area, and defending himself from
starved and crazed people, desperate for anything to eat.

Finally, the day came to leave. Strapping the machine inside his pack, it worked as he intended,
though with more force than he anticipated. He wasnt sure where he ended up, but it looked
similar to where he had been: forested, but a living, breathing forest, near a small river. Most
importantly, the sun was shining.

Hjorvarth set off to find any kind of civilization, but covered his pack with a large jacket to hide
the device.

Disappointment was to follow. He did find others: men, elves, halflings, and even other dwarves
(in which he secretly rejoiced), but though some had offered him sympathy, his pleas for help
always fell on deaf ears.

Most places he visited wouldnt have been able to offer help anyway, but he did manage to come
across stories of artifacts, powerful objects capable of tremendous magic that he might be able to
use to fix what his people had done. Of course, no one was going to just give up these objects.
He begged and pleaded, tried to intimidate, offered money, and even offered to share his
considerable technological knowledge, all to no avail. Finally, in a fit of desperation, he
attempted to steal a device said to mend anything that was broken. He failed miserably of course,
and barely escaped alive, but vowed then and there that he would let nothing get in the way of
his mission to bring his world and his people back.

Hjorvarth has traveled for years now, following any clues that seem promising, no matter how
slim. He is a wanted criminal in four different solar systems in his own universe, across three
different parallel dimensions, and four other planes of existence. Sometimes his attempts at
theft have been successful, other times not. He has managed to evade capture thus far, thanks to
the object the unnamed elf woman gave him so long ago. He has had many aliases: Skip, Flak,
Charlie, Coco, Bart Jones, The Dude, Jackson, Fandango, Gaylord, Jonas Bartholomew, Hugo,
and LaPierre. He is currently on Golarion, the owner of an inn he calls New Moon on Monday in
the country of (whatever country the scenario will be set in), and goes by the name of
Farnsworth. He is following rumors of technological marvels in Numeria, and has recently
stumbled upon whispers of individuals who can manipulate time (Time Thieves and Time
Wardens from Super Genius Games). Hjorvarth is extremely patient, only amassing enough
wealth from place to place to set up a base of operations. He is gruff, curt, and is not known to
smile. He doesnt go out of his way to cause trouble, and doesnt kill wantonly, but there have
been a few times in his past that he is not proud of where hes put someone down when they
refused to get out of his way. He is tall for a dwarf, and has shaved off all his facial hair
(something which pained him greatly at the time), so he can often pass for a short, stocky human
without too much effort. He keeps his hair cropped close to his scalp, wears thick leather brown
boots, baggy maroon trousers, a white shirt with a maroon vest, and a long duster that stops at his
ankles.