Griff Earthminer's page

About Griff Earthminer

Griff Earthminer never cared for violence. Third son of Kord Earthminer, Griff always saw himself as a pacifist. Growing up, he spent long days in the shaft with his father and brothers learning stone cutting and masonry, spending his free time at the church of Torag. A bit of an alter-boy at heart most would say. Swinging the Thurible down the precession, became one of his fondest memories. Yes, one day he would hit a vein of gold and settle down with a decent Fortune and a loving wife. As Griff grew older the Church began to take notice of his natural gifts for the Divine. After a long conversation (Even for dwarven standards) Griff’s parents relented, and he was brought under the tutelage of the Order. The Order of the Golden Hammer was a sect of torag paladins that channeled the divine essence of earth, protecting all that is sacred in the eyes of Torag. Griff’s Ideas of a perfect future began to shift as he delved deeper into the Toragian faith. A strong respected golden hammer, with an honorable position.

Of course Griff’s delusions changed when the Orc hordes assaulted his homeland. While he was on leave helping his father and brothers work a seemingly obscure and tertiary tunnel, Griff sensed that something was not right. The tunnel they were working on was far too close to the surface to yield any Ore of value. Then earthquakes began to shake the tunnel,instead of retreating into the safer reaches of the tunnels, Kord spurred his sons to work faster! Obediently Griff channeled the powers of Torag, turning his heavy pick hard as adamantine, and began to cut through the rock as if it were softer than mushroom. The moment light peaked out from behind the dirt, Kord Sounded a horn. Griff burst through the side of the mountain, the tunnel opening into sharp chilled air.

The sounds of battle could be heard from within the mountain range and quickly the battle itself overwhelmed the four dwarves. In only moments a platoon of Deep Iron Dwarves Flowed out of the tunnel down into the battlefield. Dwarven steel clashed against Orcish blood. Alas the Orcs began to swarm, without reinforcements of their own, the dwarves Retreated into the hole from whence they came. The orcs Cunningly countered, Pincering the second half of the Dwarven retreating force. Vastly outnumbered at this point The remaining dwarves surrendered. The elders were slaughtered and the young shackled into slavery.

Years went by, Griff in chains was forced into the labor camps. Toiling away turning big rocks into smaller rocks and felling the trees that once made his mountain home once beautiful. Time passed but Griff never forgot the look in his fathers eyes before an axe disconnected head from shoulders. Eventually the orc Campaign shifted from blitzkrieg to entrenchment. Seeing an opportunity, Griff led a Small disheveled group of slaves to revolt and escape into the mountains. Without the resources to pursue them, the orcs lost valuable slave labor that day.

When griff returned he was welcomed with open arms of his mother and his community. The years of constant saige had changed everything, xenophobia was rampant. After word spread of Giff’s return he was immediately conscripted into the Nalbrin. His training was rigorous but he made it through seemingly unscathed. His once boyish demeanor was boiled down into his now stoic grimace. He knows what he has to do now, what his future will look like. Pain. Blood. Triumph. Justice.