Three dwarf cousins

Rise of the Runelords

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We've just kicked of RotRL and decided to do a linked party. Three dwarfs from Janderhoff. Whipped thisup as a group background. What do you think??


The rusty blade of the goblin’s dogslicer shattered as the crudely wrought weapon contacted the dwarf warrior’s large shield. The piece of shattered metal spun across Garaim’s exposed forearm opening an ugly gash. The intensity of the goblin’s incessant, high pitched giggling increased, as it glared in bemusement at the remains of it’s ruined weapon. “Imbecilic vermin!” Garaim spat as the disarmed goblin was decapitated by a particularly ferocious axe swing. “Grundrym! Weren’t you supposed to be watching the road? How’d you miss an ambush set by bloody goblins? Nice job!” Another two goblins began circling Garaim sniggering warily as the dwarf berated his cousin. From atop the small wagon at the edge of the road Grundrym Forgeheart sneered at his fellow clansman.
“What! You worried you’re not up to the task of killing a few pathetic goblins Garaim,” Grundrym retorted as several glowing missiles leapt from the dwarf warmage’s outstretched staff to slam into the maniacally grinning faces of the three goblins that had begun climbing the sides of the wagon.
“By Torag’s hammer,” Gilric chided in exasperation, ducking a clumsy dogslicer thrust as he did so. “Will you two lay off each other? There’ll be plenty of time for arguing once we’ve despatched the last of this filth,” he concluded as the four goblins before him began advancing towards the dwarf cleric giggling conspiratorially. A goblin leapt towards Gilric as he finished the statement, only to be felled by an expertly executed swing of the crusader’s glittering warhammer.
“Hey you were the one driving the wagon,” Grundrym shouted above the goblins’ irritating and continuous laughter.
“Yeah!” Garaim added as another goblin fell (almost cleaved in two) before the dwarf warrior.
“You cannot possibly think this is my fault?” Gilric replied indignantly as another goblin fell before him.
“Well it’s not my fault!” Grundrym and Garaim shouted in unison. The sudden roar of the two dwarves caused even the rambunctious goblins to pause momentarily in their attack and stare about stupidly. The gaze of the three dwarf cousins met above the melee and as one they began to laugh; a deep raucous laughter that seemed to confuse the goblins even more. As one the minds of the three cousins drifted back to the events that brought them to this point.

Garaim, Gilric and Grundrym Forgeheart were born into the Forgeheart clanhouse in the fortress-town of Janderhoff at the western-most point of the Mindspin Mountains in Eastern Varisia. The eldest sons of three brothers, the boys grew up alongside one another amidst the noise and clatter of one of the most successful armour and weaponsmiths in all of Varisia. Possessed of an inquisitive and, some would say, brash demeanour, the cousins frequently found themselves in some sort of trouble or another, much to their respective father’s dismay. Fortunately for the young dwarves each boy’s father would, more often than not, blame the other two boys for their son’s behaviour and as such the boys, more often than not, were able to escape any serious disciplinary action. Unfortunately (at least from the boys’ perspective) the situation would not last.

It was Grundrym who came up with the idea, egged on as always by his cousins. “We’re Forgehearts,” the young dwarf reasoned. “We can smith just as well as anyone else. Better than most. It’s in our blood”.
“Well go on then,” Garaim urged.
“Yeah,” Gilric added. “Forge us some new weapons”.

One massive forge fire and a substantial loss of commissions and gold later and the three cousins found themselves standing before their collected parents listening to their young lives come crashing down. At their parents’ order the boys were separated; sent away to various dwarven academies in order to “settle them down” and to help them to “grow up into serviceable members of the clan”. Garaim was sent to the Iron Peaks Military camps to learn the warrior’s art. Gilric was sent to seminary school where it was hoped the priests and crusaders of Torag would teach the boy some much needed piety and strength of character and Grundrym was sent to the Bleakhearth arcane artillery school deep in the Mindspin mountains where his fiery and brash disposition would be channelled into the skills and destructive arcane arts of the warmage. The boys took a last look at each other as they were led away by their respective parents. It would be the last time they would lay eyes upon each other for forty years.

As the fourth decade of the cousins’ schooling drew to a close, the now grown cousins prepared to say their farewells to their teachers and mentors and return home to Janderhoff as men. The fates however were not done with the Forgeheart cousins. By pure chance, forty years to the day that three young boys had be separated, Garaim, Gilric and Grundrym Forgeheart found themselves standing in the centre of the busy Janderhoff market shaking hands and laughing heartily at the series of events that had led to their banishment forty years earlier. Still laughing the cousins entered the Smiling Griffon Inn, all thought of visiting family forgotten.

Many memories and a great many ales were shared as the night wore on and (as is the way with such things) talk turned to lost opportunities.
“You fanned the forge too much,” Gilric slurred.
“Oh that’s hogsh@#t!” Grundrym challenged in reply, “It was Garaim. He should’ve held the tongs properly”.
“Wha….bluut…hats na…buuuuuurp,” Garaim muttered defensively.
“Well it wasn’t my fault,” Gilric stated emphatically as he swayed to his feet. “and I’ll prove it. Come on”.
Dragging Garaim to his unsteady feet the three friends staggered out of the Smiling Griffon and headed towards the nearest forge…….

Several hours later, as dawn crept across the peaks of the mountains the cousins found themselves standing before the Forgeheart clan council. Charred clothes hung loosely from blackened armour and reddened faces stared unmoving at the floor of the council chamber as the clan elders berated the newly returned clansmen. At the mention of appalling stupidity Grundrym’s head shot up in challenge and made as if to speak but a stern glare from Gilric and the young warmage lowered his head once more.
“One day…..just one day back and look what you have wrought. Half a shipment lost and another forge destroyed,” the wizened dwarf elder chided. “Were it not for the good standing of your parents you would be banished from Janderhoff for life. As it stands you will accompany the remainder of the order to Sandpoint to explain exactly what happened to the rest of the order they were expecting. You will then work as caravan guards and bodyguards for the clan forges between Magnimar and Riddleport until such time as this council deems your debt has been repaid. Which I can assure you will be a substantial amount of time”……….

“Cowards! I still stand! ” Garaim called after the fleeing goblins as Gilric and Grundrym approached.
“You’re arm is bleeding cousin . Let me see it” Gilric demanded.
Garaim thrust his bleeding arm towards his cousin, his eyes however remained on the retreating greenskins whose irritating laughter slowly faded into the distance. Gilric offered a brief payer to Torag and the wound on Garaim’s arm closed.
“Are you injured Grundrym,” the cleric queried, turning from Garaim.
“Injured? They were GOBLINS cousin. Goblins! No goblin has ever landed a blow upon me. Guess you aren’t quite that good Garaim…….yet!” Grundrym replied, doing his best to bait his warrior cousin. Garaim spun about enraged but paused when his eyes met those of his cousins’. Once more the three dwarves began to laugh.
“Well you obviously learnt a thing or two at that magic school cousin,” Garaim cajoled.
“Well someone has to be able to defend us,” Grundrym grinned. “Those spells of yours will come in handy Gilric., especially if Garaim’s going to get hit by every goblin that crosses our path”. The cleric merely smiled at his cousins and grasped them both by the shoulder.
“I’ve missed you too my friends,” he said after several moments. Smiling the three dwarves turned back to the wagon to inspect the damage the goblins had caused.

This is so cool...

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