Torgrem Hellhammer's page

There was a rumble deep within Torgrem's armor as he gave a "Hmmm..." at his descendant's oath.

"Son of my sons, listen well. None could doubt your loyalty or dedication. No, you could not even enter this hall were your convictions impure. When I ask you of duty, it is not to question your dedication, but to ensure your direction."

From his belt, Darvesch's Forefather hefted a mighty hammer, The Hellhammer and held it forth, pure glory flowing from its face like golden flames. There, carved into it was a glyph unlike any the young inquisitor had ever seen. It at once seemed to be formed from the languages of dwarves, elves, men, dragons, and angels, but it was more than a mere word it was a power itself, a portion of the Infinite Light, the Sacred Flame...

"Yliaster," Torgrem said with reverence. "Mark it well, young Hellhammer, for you shall have need of it. Remember this: Your duty is not only to strike down evil when it appears before you, nor is it to simply protect those who stand with you — anyone with the ken to react would do the same."

Even as Darvesch listened, he could feel his time in the celestial realm drawing to a close. With time short, his Forefather stooped on one knee, one powerful hand upon Darvesch's shoulder, their faces eye-to-eye. "We are Lightbringers because we bring The Light to bear against the enemy. Your duty is to root out the enemy with your own cunning. Do not allow them to gather strength; do not allow them to do anything beneficial!"

As Kahn's fortress began to fade from view, Torgrem nodded to the face of The Hellhammer, the smile of a grandfather upon his face. "And what you cannot redeem to our cause...?"

Theme: Overture to the Hymn of the Forefathers

"–between warriors of equal strength, determination decides the victor."

Darvesch stood deep within the halls of a great fortress, tremendous pillars broad as houses bearing the weight of the mounting Heavens far above. Before him, clad in armor that seemed carved from blue marble veined with gold was a dwarf who stood a full head taller, his thick white beard braided with silver and held fast by his weapon belt. His powerful, deeply tanned arms were as thick as Darvesch's legs, and beneath a snowy brow, his deep-set green eyes burned hotter than any forge. When he walked, the long mane of his hair billowed with the cape that he wore, and his very boots struck up sparks like they were hammering steel and all the world was an anvil.

Although Darvesch had only heard of him in legends passed down by his Grandfather from his Grandfather, and his before him, there was no mistaking the man...

Torgrem: Forefather of the Hellhammer Clan

Looking at Torgrem was almost more than Darvesch could bear, not only from the commanding aura he emanated, but the glory radiating from the five thrones at the far end of the hall, one of which, was sized for a titan or– no... a god! For there, upon its back was engraved a single ancient rune that Darvesch would have recognized in his sleep: KAHN.

At regular intervals, a terrific din resounded throughout the place, sending shudders even through the adamantine hall. It had all the seeming of battering ram or perhaps a great wyrm trying to burst some unseen gate.

"Darvesch, do not think that determination alone is enough. The enemy is also determined, cunning — they would increase in strength to overwhelm us. That is why you do not see our Lord when you gaze upon his throne — even now he fights. Do you understand your duties as a thane of the warrior caste? Do you understand what it means to be a Lightbringer?"