Flint Forgeflame is a graying cleric of Adreham. Flint spent about 50 years pursuing childish/adolescent dwarven pursuits, like exploratory mining instead of working an established vein in the hopes of getting lucky.
He then buckled down and spent 50 years as an apprentice blacksmith, making shoes for the donkeys that worked the mines and high end pots and pans. He spent his 100s as a journeyman, cranking out bulk orders of swords for the armies and overseeing some smaller projects, while sometimes being allowed to try making pommels and grips for masterwork weapons. When he became a master at 200, he joined the smith's guild, and over the years rose in the ranks, and even became an ambassador of sorts to the central guild for about a decade or two. At about 250, he began to train a student or two a decade. On the eve of his 299th birthday, he had a vision in a dream which caused him to rethink his remaining years. He has spent the last year liquidating his assets, donating most to the church after ensuring that his 3 children and 5 grandchildren are well taken care of.
Though he was always a believer, a combination of the vision and his impending old age have made him more devout. He has spent a great deal of time discussing his life and current situation with his local spiritual advisers and training to venture into the wild in pursuit of expanding civilization. He has learned the healing arts and though he's not as strong as he was in his prime, his hammering arm has learned new techniques more suited for crushing the skulls and ribs of the unholy than those untempered masses of red hot steel.
Chances are, his mark or the mark of one of his apprentices is on at least one piece of equipment floating around the party. If not, he knows he could fix their gear if he had the time and stability, but Fayon only gave him so many breaths, so he's going to make his mark on the world while he can by taming the wilderness in the name of Adreham.
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