Duncan Brontoskin - A True Warrior

Sometimes, characters will take on a life of their own. Sometimes, that life spills over into the real world and can get people into trouble. Take for instance, the tale of Duncan Brontoskin, a character I played in one of my earliest campaigns.

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Duncan was a barbarian from the village of Triboar and like many members of his clan, he was disdainful of magic. The only exception were spells cast be priests of the war god Tempus. Sadly, He was also illiterate. His ability to count consisted of “1...2...more than 2...many”. On one occasion, the adventuring party he was a member of was offered 10,000 gold pieces to rescue a princess (or other important personage) and Duncan scoffed, “Feh! Make it FIVE!”


Like many barbarians, he prided himself on being a “True Warrior” and loved to test himself in battle by wrestling his enemies into submission. He’d wrestled wolves, bears and zombies and even tried to wrestle with Wooly Mammoths and a Frost Giant, loudly proclaiming “Feh! I will wrestle with the (insert name of enemy here) as he leapt into battle.

Most of the time, Duncan was fairly lucky but one really unfortunate incident does stand out. His adventuring party were on a quest in the “Great Frozen North” (meaning that I do not remember WHERE the party was, only that it was somewhere balls-freezing-cold).

The rest of the group was employing all manner of magical items and spells to ward off the chill but Duncan insisted “Feh! I will coat myself in bear fat and be just fine!” Then, the white dragon flew by overhead and unleashed its frosty breath weapon against the group. Everyone rolled saving throws to resist the attack and everyone failed…everyone except for the fat-slathered barbarian that is. Feeling rather proud of himself, Duncan turned to the group and boasted “Feh! Bear Fat is better than puny magic!”

  
Of course, the next creature the party ran into was a guardian daemon, a bat-winged bear with a curling set of ram horns on either side of its head that could, oh yeah, breath fire. Duncan failed his save this time and was flash-fried by the monster’s flaming breath (“Feh! A true warrior does not worry about saving throws!”).
  
By this time, everyone in the party had adopted Duncan’s manner of speech, especially his signature “Feh!” which they would pronounce in a variety of really bad Arnold Schwarzenegger-impressions.

Even my DM.

His girlfriend at the time began to loathe Duncan (and more importantly, the “Feh!” that began every sentence the barbarian uttered). Finally, one day, she asked him to take out the trash to which he responded “Feh! A True Warrior does not take out the trash!” Needless to say, she was not amused and made her displeasure clear to both me and him.
  
I don’t remember if Duncan managed to die honorably in combat like a True Warrior or if we retired that group and started another campaign but the “Feh!” remains with me, even to this day as a fond memory of a very enjoyable character.

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