Post by Baethor on Oct 7, 2005 8:51:56 GMT -5
In another time, another place, far from the lands of Mittelmarch. The Dwarven mountain stronghold "Azboferg", home to the Dwarven clan "Thunderfist" now lays in ruin, long ago wiped clean of any treasure from raiding goblins and orcs. But let me tell you of a time when it and I were both younger. Before the great tragedy...
Morning...with Azboferg's design the way it is, the main defenses and the balcony's of almost every house rested upon the outside of the mountain, while the main city, the great forges, and the mining operations lay both in and under the mountain. Every morning I stand on the balcony to breathe in that first gush of cool Autumn air. Me father, Magnis Thunderblood, joins me today. Today me father is going to guide me through forging me own battle axe, a sign of coming of age for my clan. "Well boy. le's get te work!" Me father exclaimed while clapping me hard on the shoulder. we walked back into our house, gathered the smithing tools we'd need as well as a pick for me and a pipe for my dad. The first step of making the axe was mining the ore for it meself. Using the system of elevators that Azboferg is famous for, we reached the mines in less then a few minutes. Me father told me to find a spot, and he'd let me know when I had enough ore. I walked down into one of the deeper parts o' the mines. Me father sat on a large rock nearby, and began puffing away on his pipe lazily. I found a good place to start and began working the stone away with my pick, looking for a good vein of ore.
Several hours went by with no find at all except a few chunks of iron. but certainly not enough for a battle Axe. "Hey, le's take a rest for brea'fast." i agreed with my father at once. my arms were starting to feel the burn of churning the pick over and over and over. My father brought out a thick water skin, two mugs, and a bag of what smelled like dwarven biscuits. Me father filled the two mugs with hot Dwarven ale, and tossed me two biscuits. Dwarven biscuits are nearly rock hard, and cant be eaten properly without a good hot ale to dunk them in. After eating and drinking the last of the ale and biscuits, i grabbed me pick, and went back te digging.
A good several hours went by with little to show for it. I was about to give up and move to another part of the cavern, but something inside me kept tellin me te keep working on that spot. I cracked away for a good ten minutes....and then i saw it. a bright shimmer in the torchlight. like silver only...brighter...me father noticed it immediately and dropped his pipe, he charged up next to me and grabbed a pick leaning against the wall, he and i chipped away at the rock until we could see it clearly, a vein as thick as my shoulders of the precious metal. Dad took one cleaving swing of the pick and tore free a huge chunk of wall, this vein seemed to continue deep down into the mine, another huge side swing tore a chunk of the precious metal free. he picked it up and looked at it closely. his eyes widened with his smile through his thick beard, and he turned and shouted to the entire cavern "MIIITHRIIILL!". it was almost as if time itself stopped. err'y Dwarf head slowly turned to where we were standing. a thunderous sound of feet and clanging as every able bodied dwarf dropped what they were doing and grabbed a pick, heading down to that area of the mine. "Now 'old yer horses lad's, there's plenty 'ere for us all!" a thunderous roar of congratulations to me and my father as well as shouts of what the different dwarves will do with the mithril. mE father and I mined out enough o the precious ore for me to make a proper battle axe from.
Later that night, me and my entire family was celebrating. Me father, two brothers, me grandfather, me mother and me little sister were all eating a feast prepared by my mother and sister, dad and i were going to work on that battle axe afterward. Right after dinner a knock was heard on our big stone door. Me father went to answer it. the dwarf at the door looked very grim. i couldn't make out what was being said mostly. but i did catch. "found in the caverns..." my grandfather apparently heard it all, grabbed his battle axe and handed my dad his twin axes...something had happened...my dad and grandfather walked out of the door. my brothers and i all looked at each other and we knew we were all going. I grabbed the battle axe i had been using for training. i kept the blade sharp enough that i could defend myself, but otherwise it wouldn't match the new axe. my brothers grabbed the weapons they had made and we walked out after them as mom and my sister Bazana cleaned up.
Me brothers and i stayed on a tall ledge above our dad and granddad, a dead Dwarf was laying on the ground. as they were inspecting him, dad laid his weapons down to cover the dwarf in a blanket. as soon as he let go of the weapon a dark shape lept from behind a rock and charged at him, with a knife leading the way, my brother Falard shouted out to warn my dad as my other brother, Doric, and I threw rocks at the charging figure, the hefty rocks made the figure falter slightly, just enough for my granddad bring his axe in a half swing, to bury his axe up to the haft into the would be attackers chest. the attacker fell easily, though the swing was light. my father whipped the hood off of the figure revealing what looked to be an elf...but its skin was nearly black...my grandfather shouted something at us, but was cut short as a crossbow bolt pierced him cleanly in the neck. my father grabbed his axes, told us to run then shouted down the caverns at the top of his lungs "DARK ELVES!".
once again time stood still...like a flood they came, pouring from thin crevices and the dark places, swords and daggers in each hand, dripping with poison. the battle went by so quickly though it seemed to go on for eternity...a dark elf cut us off on our way, but a spinning hammer from doric knocked him off of the ledge. Doric grabbed another hammer off of his belt, we charged through trying to reach our father. Falard headed off toward home, probably to warn our mom and Bazana. Dwarves and dark elves were fighting everywhere. dark elves are skilled fighters, and in numbers are nearly unstoppable. except by a force of well armored dwarves....none of these dwarves were well armored though...all i saw left and right were dead dwarves, or dwarves dieing...i felt the bile in me belly rise at the sight of it. but i fought it back. we found our dad defending himself against 3 or 4 of the dark elves, and winning. Doric and i jumped in and quickly finished them off. Dad had only one thought though, his wife. and so we ran to our house, crossing dangerous paths and taking down several dark elves with us. when we reached out house though...inside were several dark elves bodies...but not enough, my mother was laying on the floor, with her bloody rolling pin in hand, my sister was dead in the corner next to her, and my brother falard was laying against the wall with several crossbow bolts sticking out of him. my father ordered us from the house. i could see his eyes were tearing up. this plague of dark elves, no doubt after the mithril we had found, was killing our entire clan...soon enough. my brother was hit by a poisoned dagger. my father kept pushing me on. we came to a secret exit used for cave-ins. he pushed me in and told me to follow the path and he'd be along soon, before he slammed the hidden door shut, i did, and all i heard behind me was steel clanging against steel and the sound of crossbow clicks. i eventually came out of the exit into a small field on the other side of the mountains. a small dirt path leading into some woods was in front of me. i sat next to the exit clutching my battle Axe. waiting for someone, something, anything, to come out of that hole. for 3 days i waited. by the third day i had come to grips with what happened to my clan...even if we had had warning of the attack the dark elves were to many...they had just destroyed my whole clan except for me...for the most of the night i mourned and grieved openly, and prayed for my clans safe passage to join our ancestors...not long after i passed out from exhaustion and hunger...
When i awoke i was staring into the face of what looked to be an ogre...only shorter...generally dark elves are masters of ogres...after that thought came to my mind i sprang up and got into a fighting stance, ready to fist fight the beastly thing if i had to. "hey, you should not move so much." the ogre just spoke to me...i looked around at my surroundings...the ogre had set up a small campsite, a large horse was grazing nearby and some sort of stew was cooking on the fire. a shield was being propped up by a sword stuck in the ground. the shield had a symbol i had never seen before. a kind of crucifix laid over a circle. this ogre did not belong to any dark elf... "who are ye?" I asked it. The ogre looked at me surprised, as if i should know his name, but he answered anyway while thumping his giant fist on his chest. "I be Nichtmar! who are you?" i relaxed a bit, but kept my eye on the ogre. "Baethor...Baethor Thunderblood." the ogre thought for a second then seemed to come to a conclusion, "That name is to long. i just call you Baethor." then the ogre smiled...i'd never seen an ogre smile before...he invited me over to eat, it was then i realized how hungry i was. i hadn't eaten in days and the ogre Nichtmar and i became friends...later on he told me of a place called Mittelmarch...but that might be a story for another time...
Morning...with Azboferg's design the way it is, the main defenses and the balcony's of almost every house rested upon the outside of the mountain, while the main city, the great forges, and the mining operations lay both in and under the mountain. Every morning I stand on the balcony to breathe in that first gush of cool Autumn air. Me father, Magnis Thunderblood, joins me today. Today me father is going to guide me through forging me own battle axe, a sign of coming of age for my clan. "Well boy. le's get te work!" Me father exclaimed while clapping me hard on the shoulder. we walked back into our house, gathered the smithing tools we'd need as well as a pick for me and a pipe for my dad. The first step of making the axe was mining the ore for it meself. Using the system of elevators that Azboferg is famous for, we reached the mines in less then a few minutes. Me father told me to find a spot, and he'd let me know when I had enough ore. I walked down into one of the deeper parts o' the mines. Me father sat on a large rock nearby, and began puffing away on his pipe lazily. I found a good place to start and began working the stone away with my pick, looking for a good vein of ore.
Several hours went by with no find at all except a few chunks of iron. but certainly not enough for a battle Axe. "Hey, le's take a rest for brea'fast." i agreed with my father at once. my arms were starting to feel the burn of churning the pick over and over and over. My father brought out a thick water skin, two mugs, and a bag of what smelled like dwarven biscuits. Me father filled the two mugs with hot Dwarven ale, and tossed me two biscuits. Dwarven biscuits are nearly rock hard, and cant be eaten properly without a good hot ale to dunk them in. After eating and drinking the last of the ale and biscuits, i grabbed me pick, and went back te digging.
A good several hours went by with little to show for it. I was about to give up and move to another part of the cavern, but something inside me kept tellin me te keep working on that spot. I cracked away for a good ten minutes....and then i saw it. a bright shimmer in the torchlight. like silver only...brighter...me father noticed it immediately and dropped his pipe, he charged up next to me and grabbed a pick leaning against the wall, he and i chipped away at the rock until we could see it clearly, a vein as thick as my shoulders of the precious metal. Dad took one cleaving swing of the pick and tore free a huge chunk of wall, this vein seemed to continue deep down into the mine, another huge side swing tore a chunk of the precious metal free. he picked it up and looked at it closely. his eyes widened with his smile through his thick beard, and he turned and shouted to the entire cavern "MIIITHRIIILL!". it was almost as if time itself stopped. err'y Dwarf head slowly turned to where we were standing. a thunderous sound of feet and clanging as every able bodied dwarf dropped what they were doing and grabbed a pick, heading down to that area of the mine. "Now 'old yer horses lad's, there's plenty 'ere for us all!" a thunderous roar of congratulations to me and my father as well as shouts of what the different dwarves will do with the mithril. mE father and I mined out enough o the precious ore for me to make a proper battle axe from.
Later that night, me and my entire family was celebrating. Me father, two brothers, me grandfather, me mother and me little sister were all eating a feast prepared by my mother and sister, dad and i were going to work on that battle axe afterward. Right after dinner a knock was heard on our big stone door. Me father went to answer it. the dwarf at the door looked very grim. i couldn't make out what was being said mostly. but i did catch. "found in the caverns..." my grandfather apparently heard it all, grabbed his battle axe and handed my dad his twin axes...something had happened...my dad and grandfather walked out of the door. my brothers and i all looked at each other and we knew we were all going. I grabbed the battle axe i had been using for training. i kept the blade sharp enough that i could defend myself, but otherwise it wouldn't match the new axe. my brothers grabbed the weapons they had made and we walked out after them as mom and my sister Bazana cleaned up.
Me brothers and i stayed on a tall ledge above our dad and granddad, a dead Dwarf was laying on the ground. as they were inspecting him, dad laid his weapons down to cover the dwarf in a blanket. as soon as he let go of the weapon a dark shape lept from behind a rock and charged at him, with a knife leading the way, my brother Falard shouted out to warn my dad as my other brother, Doric, and I threw rocks at the charging figure, the hefty rocks made the figure falter slightly, just enough for my granddad bring his axe in a half swing, to bury his axe up to the haft into the would be attackers chest. the attacker fell easily, though the swing was light. my father whipped the hood off of the figure revealing what looked to be an elf...but its skin was nearly black...my grandfather shouted something at us, but was cut short as a crossbow bolt pierced him cleanly in the neck. my father grabbed his axes, told us to run then shouted down the caverns at the top of his lungs "DARK ELVES!".
once again time stood still...like a flood they came, pouring from thin crevices and the dark places, swords and daggers in each hand, dripping with poison. the battle went by so quickly though it seemed to go on for eternity...a dark elf cut us off on our way, but a spinning hammer from doric knocked him off of the ledge. Doric grabbed another hammer off of his belt, we charged through trying to reach our father. Falard headed off toward home, probably to warn our mom and Bazana. Dwarves and dark elves were fighting everywhere. dark elves are skilled fighters, and in numbers are nearly unstoppable. except by a force of well armored dwarves....none of these dwarves were well armored though...all i saw left and right were dead dwarves, or dwarves dieing...i felt the bile in me belly rise at the sight of it. but i fought it back. we found our dad defending himself against 3 or 4 of the dark elves, and winning. Doric and i jumped in and quickly finished them off. Dad had only one thought though, his wife. and so we ran to our house, crossing dangerous paths and taking down several dark elves with us. when we reached out house though...inside were several dark elves bodies...but not enough, my mother was laying on the floor, with her bloody rolling pin in hand, my sister was dead in the corner next to her, and my brother falard was laying against the wall with several crossbow bolts sticking out of him. my father ordered us from the house. i could see his eyes were tearing up. this plague of dark elves, no doubt after the mithril we had found, was killing our entire clan...soon enough. my brother was hit by a poisoned dagger. my father kept pushing me on. we came to a secret exit used for cave-ins. he pushed me in and told me to follow the path and he'd be along soon, before he slammed the hidden door shut, i did, and all i heard behind me was steel clanging against steel and the sound of crossbow clicks. i eventually came out of the exit into a small field on the other side of the mountains. a small dirt path leading into some woods was in front of me. i sat next to the exit clutching my battle Axe. waiting for someone, something, anything, to come out of that hole. for 3 days i waited. by the third day i had come to grips with what happened to my clan...even if we had had warning of the attack the dark elves were to many...they had just destroyed my whole clan except for me...for the most of the night i mourned and grieved openly, and prayed for my clans safe passage to join our ancestors...not long after i passed out from exhaustion and hunger...
When i awoke i was staring into the face of what looked to be an ogre...only shorter...generally dark elves are masters of ogres...after that thought came to my mind i sprang up and got into a fighting stance, ready to fist fight the beastly thing if i had to. "hey, you should not move so much." the ogre just spoke to me...i looked around at my surroundings...the ogre had set up a small campsite, a large horse was grazing nearby and some sort of stew was cooking on the fire. a shield was being propped up by a sword stuck in the ground. the shield had a symbol i had never seen before. a kind of crucifix laid over a circle. this ogre did not belong to any dark elf... "who are ye?" I asked it. The ogre looked at me surprised, as if i should know his name, but he answered anyway while thumping his giant fist on his chest. "I be Nichtmar! who are you?" i relaxed a bit, but kept my eye on the ogre. "Baethor...Baethor Thunderblood." the ogre thought for a second then seemed to come to a conclusion, "That name is to long. i just call you Baethor." then the ogre smiled...i'd never seen an ogre smile before...he invited me over to eat, it was then i realized how hungry i was. i hadn't eaten in days and the ogre Nichtmar and i became friends...later on he told me of a place called Mittelmarch...but that might be a story for another time...