Post by hangman on Jul 29, 2005 2:32:41 GMT -5
In a land far from Gron there was once a young dwarf miner. Each day he’d go out with his father and kinfolk and mine the great veins of mithril that ran through the mountain they called their home. They would mine all day, every day. The dwarf’s mother had passed on when he was very young, so he’d been raised by his father and taught to mine the mountain before a was able to properly hold a miners pick. It was a simple life, but one the dwarf and his father were proud of.
One day whilst mining deep inside the mountain the earth began to shake. The dwarves had mined this mountain for generations. They knew the sounds of the mountain and they knew something was terribly wrong. Dropping their tools they ran as fast as their short legs could carry them. They ran in silence with steadfast determination until the tunnel ahead of them collapsed. With their fate sealed the dwarves prayed to their gods as they listened to the tunnels behind them caving in. The could hear the sounds of the collapsing shaft grow closer and then the ceiling above them came down.
Rescuers were sent from another dwarven village to the scene of the earthquake. Among them were faithful priests of Clangeddin Silverbeard the dwarven god of strength and battle. Despite the best efforts of the rescue party only one survivor was pulled from the rubble. The young dwarf was carried away to the priests temple in the neighboring village as only the prayers of the High Priest would be enough to save him.
The young dwarf was treated by the High Priest. Although the High Priest was able to save the lad and repair most of the damage his body has sustained the young dwarf had still lost an eye. As the days passed the young dwarf recovered consciousness and began to talk to the priests. It became clear that an eye was not all the young dwarf had lost. The dwarf had no memory of the earthquake that had claimed his father and kinfolk. He knew nothing of his past, he didn’t even know his name, and his speech was often difficult to understand. The cleric‘s continued to care for the injured dwarf and named him Ironbar. They told him he was stronger than an iron bar to have survived the earthquake and cave in.
The priests would ply their healing spells on Ironbar on a daily basis. They hoped that one day they could restore his memories. As the days turned to weeks they grew more concerned that the young dwarf was falling into depression. Ironbar had grown strong enough to leave the temple during the day and would walk about the town and try to make friends, but wherever he went the other dwarves would always point and whisper about him. His only friends were a stray dog he’d feeds scraps of food and a mug of ale in a lonely corner of the tavern.
Then one day the priests were called to the tavern for a disturbance, when they arrived they found the townsfolk gathered outside and cautiously staring into the windows and doorway. The High Priest entered the tavern alone. Broken furniture littered the floor and amongst the rubble were five unconscious dwarves. In the corner at his usual table with a dented and blood spattered ale mug in his hand sat Ironbar. “What happened Ironbar?“ asked the priest. “Be remembers it, be remembers it alls and dey be makes funs of me.“ said Ironbar. “Tell me Ironbar, tell me what you remember.“ said the priest.
Ironbar then told the priest of memories of battlefields far away, of undead armies on the march, of great dragons breathing fire and of standing beside warriors of all races in the face of the great evil. The priest knew Ironbar was telling the truth about what he had seen, but he quickly realized that they weren’t Ironbar’s memories, they were something else. He looked around the room at the damage. Ironbar would never be accepted in this place anymore. Putting his arm on Ironbar’s shoulder he whispered, “Clangeddin has blessed you Ironbar, but what you have seen is not your memory. Clangeddin has shown you a vision of your future. You must leave Ironbar, you must go today. The evil is out there and Clangeddin is sending you to stop it my son.”
Ironbar followed the High Priest back to the temple. He was given a small purse of gold, armor, a shield and a warhammer and then the High Priest walked him to the edge of the town. “Where I be go?” asked Ironbar. The High Priest smiled, “Three days march to the east is a human town. There you can find passage to wherever you need to go. Fear not Ironbar, Clangeddin will guide your steps.” And so it was that a simple minded, kind hearted dwarf took his first steps towards a new life.
One day whilst mining deep inside the mountain the earth began to shake. The dwarves had mined this mountain for generations. They knew the sounds of the mountain and they knew something was terribly wrong. Dropping their tools they ran as fast as their short legs could carry them. They ran in silence with steadfast determination until the tunnel ahead of them collapsed. With their fate sealed the dwarves prayed to their gods as they listened to the tunnels behind them caving in. The could hear the sounds of the collapsing shaft grow closer and then the ceiling above them came down.
Rescuers were sent from another dwarven village to the scene of the earthquake. Among them were faithful priests of Clangeddin Silverbeard the dwarven god of strength and battle. Despite the best efforts of the rescue party only one survivor was pulled from the rubble. The young dwarf was carried away to the priests temple in the neighboring village as only the prayers of the High Priest would be enough to save him.
The young dwarf was treated by the High Priest. Although the High Priest was able to save the lad and repair most of the damage his body has sustained the young dwarf had still lost an eye. As the days passed the young dwarf recovered consciousness and began to talk to the priests. It became clear that an eye was not all the young dwarf had lost. The dwarf had no memory of the earthquake that had claimed his father and kinfolk. He knew nothing of his past, he didn’t even know his name, and his speech was often difficult to understand. The cleric‘s continued to care for the injured dwarf and named him Ironbar. They told him he was stronger than an iron bar to have survived the earthquake and cave in.
The priests would ply their healing spells on Ironbar on a daily basis. They hoped that one day they could restore his memories. As the days turned to weeks they grew more concerned that the young dwarf was falling into depression. Ironbar had grown strong enough to leave the temple during the day and would walk about the town and try to make friends, but wherever he went the other dwarves would always point and whisper about him. His only friends were a stray dog he’d feeds scraps of food and a mug of ale in a lonely corner of the tavern.
Then one day the priests were called to the tavern for a disturbance, when they arrived they found the townsfolk gathered outside and cautiously staring into the windows and doorway. The High Priest entered the tavern alone. Broken furniture littered the floor and amongst the rubble were five unconscious dwarves. In the corner at his usual table with a dented and blood spattered ale mug in his hand sat Ironbar. “What happened Ironbar?“ asked the priest. “Be remembers it, be remembers it alls and dey be makes funs of me.“ said Ironbar. “Tell me Ironbar, tell me what you remember.“ said the priest.
Ironbar then told the priest of memories of battlefields far away, of undead armies on the march, of great dragons breathing fire and of standing beside warriors of all races in the face of the great evil. The priest knew Ironbar was telling the truth about what he had seen, but he quickly realized that they weren’t Ironbar’s memories, they were something else. He looked around the room at the damage. Ironbar would never be accepted in this place anymore. Putting his arm on Ironbar’s shoulder he whispered, “Clangeddin has blessed you Ironbar, but what you have seen is not your memory. Clangeddin has shown you a vision of your future. You must leave Ironbar, you must go today. The evil is out there and Clangeddin is sending you to stop it my son.”
Ironbar followed the High Priest back to the temple. He was given a small purse of gold, armor, a shield and a warhammer and then the High Priest walked him to the edge of the town. “Where I be go?” asked Ironbar. The High Priest smiled, “Three days march to the east is a human town. There you can find passage to wherever you need to go. Fear not Ironbar, Clangeddin will guide your steps.” And so it was that a simple minded, kind hearted dwarf took his first steps towards a new life.