Far From the Mountains...
“Pheck, got dirt ‘an rock everywhere!” Dalmar annoyingly exclaimed.
“I really thought there wasn’t a trap there! I don’t understand what could have happened?” said Fingus questioningly.
“That’s becuz it’s one of ‘em dark-elves traps, son. Youu need ta keep yer eye on tha grround and trust yer gut! Not all of ‘em are like Jennifestein and his son Liberius of house Baenre! They are slyy devilz the lot of ‘em!” remarked Dalmar Smiley.
“I guess I just need to practice harder.”
“No son, yer need ta purfectly practice! Uderwise, you won’t git a second chance ta disarm. Now let’s git this cleaned up and get dinner” Dalmar replied.
Enter Fingus and Dalmar Smiley, son and father whose family came from the high mountains in Aethe, now finding refuge under the mountains. The war raged on as the small Dwarven family stowed all that they could carry. The Goblin invaders were too much for the small settlement to hold off. Then in the moment when all hope barreled forward the Dark-Elves burst from the Dwarven caves.
Caves that were once rich with valuable gems and ore had become the holding pen for the ambush. Dwarves, men and women ran whichever way possible to escape the onslaught. The young Dalmar Smiley grabbed his son and put him on his back. Then he noticed his wife was not running with them anymore. He quickly turned back and saw her get bombarded with goblin arrows. She was defenseless! In reckless abandonment he lost track of his goal of escape.
With a cat like grace he drew his magical battleaxe and hewed the first goblin in sight. His fury blurred his sense of reason and he soon began hewing and slicing through the horde of goblins and dark-elves. At last his senses were reawakened upon hearing his son, Fingus, crying.
In the Dwarven rage he had neglected to notice a goblin had bitten off part of his son’s ear! He yelled a great Dwarven Curse and the carnage ensued until he had made it out of the settlement safely. He headed south towards the great city of Turingard where there was hope. For always in Turingard dwelt the kings of Orin whose line was most exalted.
There was a time when no dwarf dwelt in Turingard, but not since before the time of Nikander. Little was know of Nikander except through the bards. Ashtar Hillendell gave his bards the stories of how Turingard was rebuilt.
It began with the slaying of the filth who occupied the ruins. Nikander being a Dwarf thought to reclaim the city for the smith’s who could still use a Dwarven hammer. Nikander discussed it with his cohorts Ranoc, Ashtar, and Aman. Upon the verdict, Ashtar began to sing a song “inspiring courage” and the battle commenced. Nikander was convinced that they did not come all this way to not reclaim his rightful Dwarven home. They slew all the beasts until reaching the throne room, where Nikander in a great voice yelled “DEMONS BE GONE, FOR IT IS THE SMITHEY NIKANDER WHICH OWNS THIS HALL AND IT’S FIRES!”
All of this was taught carefully to Fingus in his youth. It was made clear that he needed to be mindful of his surroundings. Dalmar unfortunately could not handle the loss of his beloved though. Every time he looked upon Fingus he saw the missing part of ear and remembered that sorrowful day. Finally it consumed Dalmar’s mind so much that he left Fingus with his Ranger friend Johin Haltmin.
Johin was the same age as Dalmar and the Smileys and the Haltmins had been close families for many generations. Johin thought only that Dalmar was going away for a short time, but that time ended up being a lifetime journey. Word was sent back of Dalmar and his group falling to Mind Flayers and Dark Elves. The transcripts of the battle were found on a Kobold, but no bodies Dwarf, Dark Elf, or Mind Flayer were ever found.
“Now Fingus, look at the tracks! Don’t just walk over them, you will never figure out what they are that way.” sighed Johin.
“I know Johin, but when do you tie me up and watch me escape! Ha HA!” excitedly said Fingus.
“When you learn how to track properly!”
“I know, but I don’t want to be a ranger. I want to be a great hunter like my father was!” replied Fingus.
“The key to being a good hunter is to be attentive Fingus! You can not hastily walk over a track, especially an animal’s track and still expect to kill it.” Johin responded.
Training went on while Fingus was out of the bars. Mostly one day a week, finally Johin quit trying to train him. “You will not be anything more than a Scout! They act like Rangers in some aspect, but it isn’t a way to live one’s life! Adventuring like your father, do you want to get killed like him? In that smelly, Dark Elf infested world? I know you have more sense than that!” exclaimed Johin.
“Well I’m not going down below. I am going east to the mountains by the coast. There I will be appreciated.” replied Fingus.
The next 50 years were hard on Fingus. He scrambled to make any money at all; he stayed drunk and fighting in bars all along the coast. For the coast brought in Pirates and other such riff-raff. He would work for a little while and move on to the next Ale House. Soon the days of doing this caught up with Fingus. He dreamt of his father and it was a warning. Dalmar warned Fingus of the path he was on. He showed him images of what would become if Fingus did not change his ways. After Fingus awoke, he grabbed what little he had and ran. He ran until he disappeared into the Underdark to conquer his own demons….
-- by Keith
“I really thought there wasn’t a trap there! I don’t understand what could have happened?” said Fingus questioningly.
“That’s becuz it’s one of ‘em dark-elves traps, son. Youu need ta keep yer eye on tha grround and trust yer gut! Not all of ‘em are like Jennifestein and his son Liberius of house Baenre! They are slyy devilz the lot of ‘em!” remarked Dalmar Smiley.
“I guess I just need to practice harder.”
“No son, yer need ta purfectly practice! Uderwise, you won’t git a second chance ta disarm. Now let’s git this cleaned up and get dinner” Dalmar replied.
Enter Fingus and Dalmar Smiley, son and father whose family came from the high mountains in Aethe, now finding refuge under the mountains. The war raged on as the small Dwarven family stowed all that they could carry. The Goblin invaders were too much for the small settlement to hold off. Then in the moment when all hope barreled forward the Dark-Elves burst from the Dwarven caves.
Caves that were once rich with valuable gems and ore had become the holding pen for the ambush. Dwarves, men and women ran whichever way possible to escape the onslaught. The young Dalmar Smiley grabbed his son and put him on his back. Then he noticed his wife was not running with them anymore. He quickly turned back and saw her get bombarded with goblin arrows. She was defenseless! In reckless abandonment he lost track of his goal of escape.
With a cat like grace he drew his magical battleaxe and hewed the first goblin in sight. His fury blurred his sense of reason and he soon began hewing and slicing through the horde of goblins and dark-elves. At last his senses were reawakened upon hearing his son, Fingus, crying.
In the Dwarven rage he had neglected to notice a goblin had bitten off part of his son’s ear! He yelled a great Dwarven Curse and the carnage ensued until he had made it out of the settlement safely. He headed south towards the great city of Turingard where there was hope. For always in Turingard dwelt the kings of Orin whose line was most exalted.
There was a time when no dwarf dwelt in Turingard, but not since before the time of Nikander. Little was know of Nikander except through the bards. Ashtar Hillendell gave his bards the stories of how Turingard was rebuilt.
It began with the slaying of the filth who occupied the ruins. Nikander being a Dwarf thought to reclaim the city for the smith’s who could still use a Dwarven hammer. Nikander discussed it with his cohorts Ranoc, Ashtar, and Aman. Upon the verdict, Ashtar began to sing a song “inspiring courage” and the battle commenced. Nikander was convinced that they did not come all this way to not reclaim his rightful Dwarven home. They slew all the beasts until reaching the throne room, where Nikander in a great voice yelled “DEMONS BE GONE, FOR IT IS THE SMITHEY NIKANDER WHICH OWNS THIS HALL AND IT’S FIRES!”
All of this was taught carefully to Fingus in his youth. It was made clear that he needed to be mindful of his surroundings. Dalmar unfortunately could not handle the loss of his beloved though. Every time he looked upon Fingus he saw the missing part of ear and remembered that sorrowful day. Finally it consumed Dalmar’s mind so much that he left Fingus with his Ranger friend Johin Haltmin.
Johin was the same age as Dalmar and the Smileys and the Haltmins had been close families for many generations. Johin thought only that Dalmar was going away for a short time, but that time ended up being a lifetime journey. Word was sent back of Dalmar and his group falling to Mind Flayers and Dark Elves. The transcripts of the battle were found on a Kobold, but no bodies Dwarf, Dark Elf, or Mind Flayer were ever found.
“Now Fingus, look at the tracks! Don’t just walk over them, you will never figure out what they are that way.” sighed Johin.
“I know Johin, but when do you tie me up and watch me escape! Ha HA!” excitedly said Fingus.
“When you learn how to track properly!”
“I know, but I don’t want to be a ranger. I want to be a great hunter like my father was!” replied Fingus.
“The key to being a good hunter is to be attentive Fingus! You can not hastily walk over a track, especially an animal’s track and still expect to kill it.” Johin responded.
Training went on while Fingus was out of the bars. Mostly one day a week, finally Johin quit trying to train him. “You will not be anything more than a Scout! They act like Rangers in some aspect, but it isn’t a way to live one’s life! Adventuring like your father, do you want to get killed like him? In that smelly, Dark Elf infested world? I know you have more sense than that!” exclaimed Johin.
“Well I’m not going down below. I am going east to the mountains by the coast. There I will be appreciated.” replied Fingus.
The next 50 years were hard on Fingus. He scrambled to make any money at all; he stayed drunk and fighting in bars all along the coast. For the coast brought in Pirates and other such riff-raff. He would work for a little while and move on to the next Ale House. Soon the days of doing this caught up with Fingus. He dreamt of his father and it was a warning. Dalmar warned Fingus of the path he was on. He showed him images of what would become if Fingus did not change his ways. After Fingus awoke, he grabbed what little he had and ran. He ran until he disappeared into the Underdark to conquer his own demons….
-- by Keith
posted by Abram | 9:56 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home