Brant is a halfing bard from Últrek, who has traveled the world participating somewhat reluctantly in accidentally saving the world.
He has at many points, found hismelf to be in a position of disagreement with his travelling band of heroes. This is the norm for most of his allies, but he has garnered much respect for sticking to his principles.
Brant left the party when given the opportunity to leave during the groups encounter with Y’Shaj. The group were in a cavern system that they’d traversed many traps to get to. Brant wandered off to investigate how to escape this cavern.
A short while later, the bard returns to the group, having realised that he cannot see, and cannot disarm the traps, or make his way out safely, without assistance. He tells Y’Shai that he does not want to go to the fight, but he does want to leave. She asks Brant Goldust where he wishes to go, and he thinks for a long while, before settling on Mouintains Foot.
“Brant,” stirs up the voice of the Patching in the Forest, a timid but enthusiast tabaxi archaeologist, “It doesn’t feel like we will erm survive this. But, but you might. Would you take these?” he asks, as he hands over his scholarly notes from Lesoto’s tomb, and his journey from Vespard to the tomb. Patch also hands over this journal he has been writing to Azazel. “You have a chance to survive. And if we don’t, but the world is somehow still spinning, then well, erm, you have one hell of a story to tell” The bard accepts the request, and the two share a respectful moment – “its been a privilege”.
Granuaile removes the magic of the ring from Brant telling him that she will no longer look for him, as she hands over some magical patches from Rhogar’s cloak. They may be of aid to the bard, but equally, they carry sentimental value, as Rhogar saved Brant’s life, after endangering it, at the cost of his own”.
Karl looks the halfling up and down appraisingly, still hoping to convince him to stay and fight. “Throughout my travels, knowing paladins are meant to be heroes. I always hates how shit I was, and how shit I was compared to the legend of Brant Goldust” The paladin’s heart breaks at this moment, as he turns away, and Y’Shai waves goodbye. The bard’s form wavers and becomes petals.
In Brant’s perspective his form petal’s away in a teleport and appears instantly in Vespard by a familiar but significantly melted statue of brass. There are civilians chained together being marched by armoured Greyborn, with the Maurdorne flag being flown across various parts of the city. The skyline is destroyed and smoking. As he looks up he sees Dreadbats with Greyborn riders flying overhead, with the engine sounds of the Andromeda whirling up, as the vessel, gigantic in the distance is preparing to take off. The bard lowers his head in sudden realisation of the situation, and the chances of survival growing rapidly smaller.
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