Juhldalor the Champion of the Virtues, Seeker of Filial Redemption

Role

Chapter 30

Upon the first hour of the first day, of the
Month of the Sun. Juhldalor StrolGinnit had arisen.

Pushing his palms against the ground, his knees
dusty and rough, Juhldalor feels each grain of
soil pressed against his calloused and worn hands.
Grabbing a handful of earth as he stands,
Juhldalor closes his eyes and feels the loose
stones roll and grind in his powerful grasp.
He loses himself in the feeling as the stone
falls from his hands and makes a dull scattering
echo as it falls upon the ground.

Juhldalor shuffles as he walks, his heels kicking
the dust as he moves. The sounds of the earth
grinding upon itself sending shivers up the spine
of Juhldalor. His constant connection to the ground
a source of power to him, a source of his heritage.
The thought of himself lifting from the ground
he finds leaves him disconnected and distant,
nearly as strong as his urge to stray from diving
beneath the waves.

Juhldalor StrolGinnit grinds his teeth as he begins
to focus on the shaping of the world around him.
The weak can only be protected for so long before
being overtaken by the darkness. The one path to
temperance and fortitude of the soul is through
the fierce struggles of combat and battle.

Juhldalor kicks another stone and keenly hears
it crash into another as they tumble along together.
He strokes his ale soaked beard as he thinks to
himself how one action of great strength can
cause reactions and movement within others. His
ability to shape his world around him through the
strength of his Heritage of stone and steel gives
him the will to forge within himself the strength
and fortitude of the earthen gods themselves.

Juhldalor kneels again upon the earth, and places
his hands against the ground. Feeling the presence
of the gods connecting him to an ancient power
deep within the Earth. The great temperance of
unmovable stone connecting him to his peoples
past, greatest legends and greatest heroes forged
by the fire and blood of battle and rage against
the wicked who would oppress and destroy the
righteous.

Role

Chapter 15

Juhldalor listened to the story his father Gruhnarld had
told him, his soul already damned, the fire in his heart
dimmed, long relinquished that misty night long ago.

Juhldalor closed his eyes, waiting for an answer to come to him,
he placed his hands upon the ground, finding strength there.
He grabbed a handful of dirt, letting some of it sift through
his hand, clenching it tightly, he felt his answer come to him.

Juhldalor opened his eyes slowly, a fiery strength behind them.
He said to his father, "Aye dare meh pah, yer knowin whad needin
ta be undone dare eh."

Gruhnarld sobbed, his face long and drawn, looking much older
than he ever had to Juhldalor.

He said to Juhldalor, "Ah kinner be givin it yer dare eh, ah
ner kin be givin back whad ah be takin dare boy."

Juhldalor said to his father, "Den yer be havin ta livin gain
wid strength in yer heart dare pah, yer be havin ta exactin
retribution gainst dem darkness, yer be havin ta destroyin
dat whad takin yer fargin fire dare pah!"

Juhldalor stood up, lifing his father and said, "Yer allways
tellin meh ah ner fearin dem darkness! AH YER NER BE FEARIN
DEM DARKNESS HAR!"

Gruhnarld stood on his own, shaking his head, he turned to face
Juhldalor and said, "Disen hammer ere, ner bein givin, ner bein
stroyin it, ah be smashin dis ere hammer inta dat fargin anvil
meh fargin life eh, ner be crackin, ner be failin dare eh!"

Juhldalor looked at the forge, it's fires a deep orange brightness.

Sensing what Juhldalor had thought, they both began to toss timber
into it's breach.

Role

Chapter 16

Juhldalor watched as his fathers face contorted into
a mask of agony and rage as he cried out in blind fury.
His arms grew slack as he slumped to the ground, his
massive forge hammer falling to the ground with a loud
THUD.

His shoulders began to shake as he started to sob in
uncontrolled fits. Snot and tears dripping down his face,
he slurred uncontrolled as he blathered on to his son
Juhldalor.

"Ner be fearin dem darkness dare meh boy! Ner yer eveh
be givin up yer heart dare boy! Ner yer fargin be
givin up dem fires in yer fargin soul boy! Tellin meh!
Tellin meh now!" Gruhnarld said with a shaky voice.


Juhldalor stared open mouthed at his father, who in his
whole life had never seen him expose weakness, a moment
of fear, or a moment of lack of conviction. He crawled
his way to the anvil, and beneath it's worn face, he
grabbed his father by the shoulders and nodded silently,
his eyes lending strength to his fathers.

There in that cold morning, Gruhnarld told his only son,
Juhldalor of his past, of his betrayal, and of the price
that he will have to pay for his envy and for his vanity.

Role

Chapter 17

As Gruhnarld reached for the hammer he felt a surge of knowledge
rush through his body, he felt strength unlike he had ever known
before in his limbs, the massive hammer became like a feather in
his hand and within his mind, he could hear it calling to him
to work, so much work to do, so much death to bring.

Within a month, he brought the finished mithril sword to it's Lord,
it's blade the finest ever created in it's parts. It's name carried
on the winds and lips of all who saw it, Gruhnarld's name praised
for his skill, and his work sought after by all who sought to oppress
and destroy.

...............

The hammer called to him at all times, over the decades turning his
love into labor and his labor into hate. It began to poison his
soul as he cursed the darkness, cursed his fear, and cursed his
own weakness and jealousy.

When he placed the hammer down, the knowledge and strength had
left him, leaving him feeling empty and useless without it. Nothing
he had created was his own, no works that he had dreamed and then
molded were of his imagination. He began to understand as his
soul had withered within his body, that his life that had once
been his own, had become the unknowing servant of something dark
and sinister.

When he finally realized the fires within his spirit were dimming,
it was too late, his soul was a ruin of darkness, his heart beating
only to strike the anvil, his fear of the darkness a daily battle, for
he knew soon, he would pay for his betrayal.

Role

Chapter 18

The figure motioned to a massive hammer on the ground, it
had once again seemed to eat the light about it, glowing
furiously red and emitting a soft hum that resonated within
his mind.

"Whad yer be sayin ta meh eh?" Gruhnarld said.

The raspy voice beneath the hood said, "If you take hold of
that hammer, you shall be granted the knowledge of a master smith.
Your creations shall become famous through the lands for their
potentcy of death, and all shall come to envy what you create."

Gruhnarld looked at the robed figure, his brow furrowing,
"Whad yer be wantin from me den eh? Whad ah be havin ta give fer
dis gift yer be offerin meh eh?"

The robed figure choked out, "You want to be a smith, dwarf?"

Gruhnarld said, "Mere den yer be knowin!"

The raspy voice replied, "Then all I ask is that you do as you
desire, that you create that which I have given you the knowledge
to create... And that you never stop."

Looking at the Hammer, Gruhnarld thought of the day earlier, his
envy of the smith filling his heart, desires of fame filling
his mind. He could hear the hammer calling to him, it's echoing
clang making his spirit rise.

As Gruhnarld reached for the Hammer the robed figure said
with it's raspy strained voice, "Know this Dwarf, once you take
my gift, you cannot give it back, I can only take it back,
and with a price..."

Role

Chapter 19

"Come to meee..." The voice within the robe echoed.

Gruhnarld looked into the blazing forge - a leather
shoe near the breach. "It" saw where Gruhnarld was
looking and with a motion of his chin, the final remains
of the smith where reduced to ash.

The robed figure turned back to Gruhnarld again and
chuckled a bit under the robe, it's whole body shaking
and shivering in delight.

"I sense within your soul, that you had wanted something
from the smith..." he groaned with a dismissive wave to
the forge.

Gruhnarld, shaking with fear, nodded in agreement without
thinking. His voice betraying him, it quiviered as he
replied..."Yar..."

"Ah be wantin ta be havin dem skill er dem forge dare...
been wantin ta be makin dem swerd wid dem skill er dem
masta smith, meh werk wanted by all, ahn ah bein known
dem werld throughout." Gruhnarld said.

The robed figure seemed to stand taller, and Gruhnarld
could sense that it was grinning beneath it's cowl.

"Well then, dwarf. Perhaps we could come to an arrangement."

Role

Chapter 20

Gruhnarld awoke with a startle, his dreams terrifying
and seeming so real. He walked barefoot into the
moonlight outside of his fathers home, and started
to releave himself as he looked up into the stars,
the silence of the night deaf.....

Gruhnarld's ears pearked as he heard a cry in the
darkness, fear spinning within his mind, he heard
it again as the hairs on his back stood on edge.

Running down the street, his bare feet splashing deep
into mud puddles, he ran away from the sound as fast
as he could, his heart nearly stopped as a painful
cry was cut short near dead in front of him.

He stood still, breathing hard and found himself
looking right into the heart of the forge,
his heart exploding in his chest, each pump sending a
painful message into his head where it throbbed
steadily. His eyes wide and twitching.

....


Staring back at him a hooded figure, darkness enveloped
whatever it was beneath the robe. A long slender arm
raised and pointed a glowing gloved finger at Gruhnarld.

"You there.... Dwarf..." The raspy voice whispered into
the darkness.

Gruhnarld's legs stood frozen in the ground, he felt
displaced, disconnected, alone and cold in the darkness.

"Come...." The raspy voice ordered, as Gruhnarld's legs
marched him forward, his will frozen stiff in fear...

Role

Chapter 21

Gruhnarld looked at his young son, sitting on the ground,
his eyes so fiery and steady for such a young boy. He
felt his eyes looking deep within his soul, deep within his
secrets, his heard hurt. His head always hurt, in his sleep
he could hear the hammer calling to him, his lifes work
behind him marred by death and plagues. His soul being sold
long ago, how long could he keep it from being collected.

Gruhnarld felt fear overtake him, and he thought back to a
time long ago....

Gruhnarld watched from the road on the ourskirts of a large
dwarven settlement, the smith worked on a blade of the finest
mithril, a blade to be made for a lord of great wealth and power,
he would have guessed.

He came in closer, a bakers son by trade, and watched with ENVY
as the smith hammered away on the fine metal, his work being
shaped before the smith.

As he took another step the smith looked up, his eyes glaring
at him through the smoke and dust of the forge, he stormed
towards Gruhnarld raising his hammer as if to strike and
stopped short, looking at Gruhnarld with a furrowed brow.

"Git yer arse outta ere yer bastid, goin ta yer paw dare ehn
gittin outta meh forge fer ah be crushin yer fargin skull eh!
Ner be comin inta meh ferge eh!" The smith turned his back
to Gruhnarld and started to walk away, his hands dropping to his
side, his massive hammer in one hand, the glowing rod in another.

Gruhnarld looked at the hammer, his eyes blurring a bit as it
seemed to swollow the light around it, in a way he swore it glowed.

Gruhnarld slept uneasy that night, his dreams were taunted by
unknown demons, his body sweat and glistening in a fine sheen...

Role

Chapter 22

Clearly confused by his fathers reaction, Juhldalor stared
blankly at his father, Gruhnarld, speechless and a bit frazzled.

Gruhnarld walked over near the anvil, placed his hand upon it and
turned back to Juhldalor, his steady hand turning white and starting
to shake from gripping his hammer so tightly, rage, hate, and fury
filling his face and at the same time having calmness to it.

"Yer den... yer bein knowin er dem legend er dem anvil dare."

"One fergin dare dare eh, iner village jus like dis one ere eh,
dare bein a smith, shoein a herse in dem open air dare eh. Em
Anvil be ringin wid each blow ta dem shoe dare eh. "

"Dem Fargin Devil, em bein passin ahn hearin dem ringin er dem anvil,
wantin ta be seein whad goin on eh. Dem Devil be lookin at dem
smith makin dem shoe, likin dem shoe dare fer dem horse."

Juhldalor nodded as he sat on the ground watching his father. He
reached down and grabbed a handful of earth, and began to clench
it tightly.

Gruhnarld continued his story...

"Dem smith be trimmin dem hooves er dem horse, shapin dem gud an be
placin dem shoe on dem horse, nailin dem down wid dem hammer eh."

"Dem horse bein all fit, dem smith be mountin an ridin, makin sure
all bein gud wid dem werk eh be doin eh. Dem horse bein feelin gud
dare eh, jumpin ahn racin back an ferth, feelin gud."

"Dem Devil be seein dis eh, ahn envy bein en em heart. Dem Devil
bein havin dem hoof emself, cided dat he be wantin pair er dem shoe.
Eh be comin ta dem smith, an askin em ta be preparin er set er shoe."

"Dem Smith ner bein ner fargin idiot dare eh, ner wantin ta be
shoein dem fargin devil wid em bes werk eh! So em Smith be makin dem
shoe too small, he be trimmin dem devil hoof ter fergin shert. Dem
Smith hammerin down dem fargin shoe ter fargin tight, so dey ner
comin off eh!"

"Dem Devil in pain dare, lame an fargin sore went runnin way an
suffered in dem darkness fer many er day dare eh! Fargin hell!"

"So dare meh son, ah be ringin meh anvil dare eh, so dem devil ner be
comin near meh eh. Ehm be memberin dem pain dat fargin wiley smith
be placin on em fer days, ahn ner be comin near ah ferge gain eh!"

Juhldalor stared at his father, remembering how he was always taught
never to fear the darkness, but he looked into his fathers eyes, and
he saw just that. Fear.

Role

Chapter 23

Juhldalor arrived at the forge before his father,
Gruhnarld, had. He came close to the ever fired forge
rubbing his hands together for warmth. His gritty caloused
hands making a rough sandy noise as he moved them back
and forth vigerously, huffing the cold air out of his lungs.

He saw his fathers massive smithing hammer on a table
covered with other odd runes and glyphs of sort. Strange
Juhldalor thought to himself, he almost never left his
hammer out in the cold.

As he neared the hammer, a strange red glow began to pulse
within it, and a ever so slight humming could be heard.
Juhldalor closed his eyes a moment to further concentrate
upon the sound when suddenly the door to the forge slammed
with enough force to shake the building.

"JUHLDALOR!" GIT yer fargin arse way from meh fargin hammer
dare boy! Er ah be rippin yer fargin guts out yer fargin
arse dare eh!"

Juhldalor nearly jumped out of his skin as he stood wide
eyed looking at his father, the memory of their last
evening still fresh in his mind.

Gruhnarld hurried over to the table, the hammer fading
quickly and became silenced as he reached for it, nearly
knocking Juhldalor to the ground as he shoved him to the
side.

Gruhnarld looked into Juhldalor's eyes and locked his gaze
upon him. His massive hammer held steady in his hands.

"So yer fargin wantin ta be knowin wha ah be
striking dem fargin anvil twice dare eh? Do yer boy?

Role

Chapter 24

Juhldalor stood, solid as a mountain within the Altar of the Paragon,
his stone exterior withholding his excitement as he awaited the
arrival of the Biddy. His Fortitude of Spirit and Faith tested yet
again by the Lady Ysaloerye.

"AH dare eh Hedonandra! Dem Biddy beh sayin ta meh ere ta bein ere
at dis time ere eh! Ah be knowin dem lass be comin ta meh ere ta be
havin noder drink wid meh eh! Be sayin ser she did eh!" Juhdalor
said in a manner of fact way to the Priestess of Ysaloerye.

Just as he had finished his sentence, the Biddy Appeared before him
suddently, her grin both revealing and frightening.

Role

Chapter 25

The sharp sound of wood popping echoed through the
blistering cold night as a young Juhldalor sat on a stone
near the warmth of the crackling cooking fire. The bitterness
of his ale a comfort as it warmed his insides. His hand
slowly stroking the worn smoothness of the stone under him,
his mind spinning with the possibilities of what he could
possibly mold and shape from within this bit of earth.

Much like the wills of men, the earth could be molded into something
of greatness that would last for near all time. All that is
needed is a talented hand, and the presense of a mentor to
give the gift of knowledge, passing the secrets of the earth
from one generation to the next. Passing the fires from one
to the next, the mastery unlocking through time and trial.

*crackle, pop, pop, crackle* *SNAP*

A twig broke behind him as Juhldalor could suddenly sense someone,
his body tenses as two rough hands reached for his shoulders
and gave a slight squeeze.

"Arugh dare eh meh laddy eh! Ner bein skerred dare, jus yer ol pap!"

Juhldalor's Father stared at him from beneath a thick and singed
beard, his eyes discerning and his brow furrowed.

"Yer ner bein a fargin yellow bastid dare eh! Ner 'ere bein
scared er dem darkness dare eh!" He said as he released
his grip from Juhldalor's shoulders.

"Widin yer heart bein dem light er dem werld, iffn yer graspin at it,
yer havin dem power ta be changin id, yer havin dem power ta movin
dem cities iffn yer bein wantin dare eh! eh!"

He moved next to the large stone that Juhldalor was sitting on,
and silently they both stared into the fire, it's light dancing
in their eyes and touching their souls as they both took a long
deep swig of fine dark dwarven ale.

Role

Chapter 26

CLANG! tap. CLANG! tap. tap. CLANG! tap.

Juhldalor stood looking up at the massive hammer
crashing down upon the worn and blackened anvil.

CLANG! tap. CLANG! tap. tap. CLANG! tap.

"Whad yer be smackin dem anvil twice dare fer meh papa!"

Juhldalor a small boy, his beard just a stubble on his chin
watched as his father hammered away at the anvil for
what seemed an eternity. His hammer tapping the forge between
strokes.

"ARUGHH!! Yer be askin to meny fergin questions dare boy!
Jus be watchin as ah be strikin dem hammer true! Watch
as ah be makin dis blade ere! Learn dis er ah
be whippin yer hide raw dare boy eh!" Turning back
to his work he raised his hammer again.

CLANG! tap. CLANG! tap. CLANG! tap, tap.

Juhldalor watched as ore had melted in the fires of the forge,
a forge hot with the fires of the earth. He reached down
and grabbed some of the dusty earth at his feet, rubbing
it in his hands and feeling the grit beneath his fingernails.

CLANG! tap. CLANG!! tap, tap.

He thought of the fields with row upon row of drying
wheat, the earth releasing a pure scent that he breathed
in deeply and slowly. The same earth that gives life to
this crop, gives life to the fires of the forge, gives
the ore for which the swords are crafted, and gives all
upon which we fight, most of all the fires in our gut.

CLANG! tap. CLANG!!! tap. tap. CLANG!

Juhldalor reached down and placed his hands upon the cold
bare stone floor of his fathers hot forge and could swear
he could hear a song rising within his spirit.

Role

Chapter 27

Juhldalor had been passed out upon the table in the Biddy's Inn
having fantasies of a crowd of dwarves, celebrating something
or perhaps nothing, standing on the tables, ale sloshing as they wobbled
singing a grand song to their Lady Ysaloerye. In his drunkin
fantasy, he could hear a song of the earth, a song of the fire in his gut
and what else would a drunken dwarf dream about if not drinking some more.

When Juhldalor awoken, he penned to his strange barmaid a song in his head,
a song of his biddy, of his lady, that the world would need to hear.

"Biddy Brew"

Oooooooh! Drink a tankard O'Ale er hour,
bitter yer lips yer face gon sour!
Dem biddy be doin dem dancin jig,
smashin dem duergars bones she'd be takin a swig.

Cool an deep from dem earth be a'growin true,
dem barley an rye dat makin dem ale.
Dem earth be givin dem life ta brew,
Whad bein yer choice den, dark er pale!

Ooooooh! Drink a tankard O'Ale er hour,
bitter yer lips yer face gone sour.
Dem biddy be fir'en dem forges true,
hammer in hand while slurpin em brew!

Dem Beadin bubbles blinkin on dem brim,
yer beard be soaked through an through.
Dem barmaids be comin filled ta dem rim,
dare busts bein poppin from behind dem brew.

OOOOOoohh! Drink a tankard O'ale er hour,
bitter yer lips yer face gone sour,
Dem biddy be strikin meh heart a true,
Dem finest dwarven lass ah ever a knew!


Ah Drinkin Song fer meh Lady Ysaloerye,
She bringin dem fire o dem Earth ta meh gut.

Juhldalor StrolGinnit, Seeker Oh dem Paragon

Role

Chapter 28

"Oh meh Biddy!" Cried Juhldalor as he took another deep swig
of his special brew, made by the jaded barmaid Lauriel.
Meh bein prayin ta yer meh lady o dem earth.'
Guidin meh hand gainst dem darkness! Givum meh dem
fires o dem earth ta strike em down!' He said into his
brew.

As he swiped away the slop and slime from his filthy gob
he looked over to his companion Delen, a follower of the
Jaguar, and reflected on a days work of blood and pain.

Delen had motioned that he would not strike at the darkness
within the city walls - regardless if the guardians of law
were present or not. Juhldalor thought of the paladin code
only mentioned respect for the law, and those who guard it.
It said nothing of being incapable if breaking it, especially
if it resulted in dead duergar littering the streets.

His thoughts drifted back into the present, he took another
long slurp from a whiskey bottle, preparing for his next
meeting with the Lady of the Earth, last they met his
tolerance for brew was quite low, and hed best dwarf up
to be able to drink at least half as the biddy!

He ponders the path of the stonemason, and wishes to speak
again to Ysaloerye of the path of the Earth to learn more
of it's strength and how he can become a better servant.

Role

Chapter 29

Juhldalor StrolGinnit had been praying for a sign at the
chamber of the Paragon when Raucous laughter and cheers
had been heard from the inn as the Paragon's presence had
been felt. Hedonandra continued to utter her prayers as
the barmaids served another round fo the cheering patrons.

Juhldalor glanced back at the fallen duergar, mace still
embedded into his socketed skeletal face, brew in his hand.
Ysaloerye appeared before her priestess waggling her eyebrows,
'Well den well den what's we got here.' She said all to sober
as she glared at Juhldalor.

Handing Lady Ysaloerye a Mug of Akan Brewed Ale, they spoke
of the Earth, and of Juhldalor's strenght of will to shape
it. Juhldalor told the Lady how the earth is the source
of all the bounty in the world, for even the ale she had
just drank drew it's strength from the earth. Those whom
craft of the forge drew their ore of the earth, just as
the farmer who grew their grain and hops.

Ysaloerye had told him 'Den yer already realizin summint
that many don't lad! An dat be no shite Ah tell ye!'
Ysaloerye said 'So yer seek tha path o' tha stonemason den eh.'

And so Ysaloerye Spoke of the Lore of a Stonemason,
Bout time some came seekin tha lore o' stone. She said as
she looked at him with her good eye. Seems dat folks be
enamoured wid tha forge fer an'all long am thinkin. Dems in
tha forge stir up thur fire when metal be needin shaped.
Tha fire in tha eauth though be sommint special.
Fer it be molten rock eh - hotter than any forge.
Whul blacksmiths an stonemasons have thur ain lores.
All who seek ma ways must huv tha fire in thur belly.
Holtzendorff's Hammers! Soddin easy fer dwarves or fargin should be.

After a bit more drinking, Juhldalor had told the Lady he'd
make her proud if she would call her one of her own and set
him upon the path of the stonemason.

The lady had given Juhldalor just that and then had said,
Grurk's Grumpy Gonads! Yer go forth den an battle fer meh.
Show those betrayers wit it means tae hold a grudge.

So Juhldalor StrolGinnit had done just that, and set forth
as a Seeker of the Paragon, apprentice stone mason of Lady
Ysaloerye.

Role

Chapter 7

Juhldalor sat and listening, as Gramoak told him of his latest
meeting with Ysaloerye. Juhldalor had been seeking the biddy for
quite some time, and as usual, Gramoak seems to do the catching.

"Aye Feller, She shown me a few things." He said to Juhldalor.

Juhldalor noticed the scar upon Gramoaks body and smiled a bit,
his insides feeling a great longing. He shuffled his feet and
thought about spending more time in the Hammer, hoping to catch
Lady Ysaloerye.

"Ah goin to write somethin about the history of the Dwarves!" He
told Juhldalor, mentioning that he would be seeking out Iunna.

Juhldalor thought that was a great idea, he began to ask how he could
help Gramoak complete this task when the Maran yelled.

Juhldalor looked over at this Captain, Stonemason and Mentor and ran
along his side to the Fortress, his tankard of ale left spilled on
the ground, soaking back into the earth from where it came.

Role

Chapter 14

The fires of the forge raged, it's heat intense and
withering. Juhldalor working the blast as air rushed
into the flame, making them hotter, and hotter.

His gut fiery and intense, he felt the rush of strength
to his limbs he had never felt before. His heart pounded
in his chest steady. He felt the spirits of his ancestors
before him bringing aid to his soul.

Gruhnarld and Juhldalor, father and son, looked at each other
for perhaps the final time, not knowing what would happen.

Juhldalor said, "Ner fearin dem darkness dare pah, near fearin
dem dark. Be strikin ita dem heart er dem fargin taint dare pah."

Gruhnarld grasped his son on the shoulders, shaking him
and nodding his head, his singed and oily beard rustling
against his chest. Closing his eyes, he tossed the massive hammer
into the forge, it landed with a solid THUMP and WOOF as it
hit the packed and hard glowing embers.

Both father and son stood staring at the hammer, it's glow
becoming more intense by the second, the hammer becoming
a solid angry red within the intese heat of the forge.

At the moment when it's darkness should have become undone, it
seemed to suck the light from around it, the heat of the forge
ineffective against it's darkness, the ash around it steaming
as it's fires had faded.

From behind them, a raspy chuckle could be heard.

Role

Chapter 13

Juhldalor and Gruhnarld turned, facing the source
of the sound, Gruhnarld's face twisted into a mask
of pure rage, Juhldalor's soul felt the strength of
a mountain rising within him, a fortitude of spirit
against the robed figure.

"Foolish Dwarf, the robed figure whispered with a
raspy voice. I had told you long ago, you could not
give back what I had given, it was a gift of darkness,
a placeholder for your soul....One I've come to reclaim."

The robed figure raises his hand and with a beckoning
motion called at Gruhnarld.

Gruhnarld fell to his knees, his hands coming to his
head, screams of shear agony rising from within
his soul. His heart racing, ready to explode in his
chest. He writhed in pain on the ground, twitching
and screaming.

Juhldalor had seen enough, without hesitation he reached
into the forge, and grasped the hammer his father
had held for so long, it's darkness wrenching at his
soul, the fortitude of the mountains standing
against it's taint. He felt the strength of the earth
within his soul, it's fires within his gut and he
struck it down with great vengeance upon the anvil.

CLAAANNGG!!

The robed figure howled and reeled back, it's outstretched
hand retreating and reaching for it's cowled head.

CLAAAAANNNGG!!!

Juhldalor smashed the hammer into the anvil again, it's worn
face cracking slightly as the massive hammer came crashing
down.

CLAAAANNNNNGG!!!

Screaching in a piercing whine, the figure within the robe
reeled backwards, the darkness gathering around it, claiming
the light for it's own.

Juhldalor raised the massive hammer above his head, gripping it
with both hands, it's shaft burning fiery hot within grasp.
He called upon the fires of the earth to strike out
at this darkness, strike out against this taint, to destroy
this instrument of the great evil.

With strength unknown to him his entire life, his spirit
singing with the soul of the mountains, he let out a cry
so fierce it shook the forge, "FEERR DEM FIRRESS ER DEM EARTH!!!"

The massive hammer came crashing down against the anvil,
it's head shattering into thousands of shards upon impact
with it's worn face, nearly splitting the old anvil in two it
rang out in defiance, "CLAAAAANNNNGGG!!!"

The robed figure howling furiously pulled upon the darkness
about him and swirled within it, dissapearing within the whisps
and tendrils that lashed at the light of the forge.

Juhldalor dropped the shattered shaft to the ground, and turned
to find his father on the ground, twitching ever so slightly.

Role

Chapter 12

Juhldalor knelt beside his father, his hands upon his
chest, he called to him, "Pah!... Pah!"

Gruhnarld opened his eyes, the last he would look upon
his son, and uttered out the words, "Ner fearin.....
near fearin dem darkness..." His hand reaching up
and placing it on his son's chest, right over his heart.
"Yer be strikin it dare.... strikin it dare wid dem fire
in yer gut dare son, strikin ... strikin gainst dem taint..
strikin......"

The last breath within Gruhnarld left his body, his head
falling to the side, his hand sliding off Juhldalor to
the ground, dust rising as it landed.

Juhldalor closed his eyes and reached down, grabbing a
fistfull of dirt, feeling the cold earth begin to
warm within his hand. He felt it's strength and fortitude,
he clenched it tightly, bowing his head and began to pray.

Role

Chapter 11

Juhldalor opened his eyes after what seemed an eternity.
The sun had been setting outside the forge, he had not
eaten or drank all day, yet he felt content and at peace.

The earth within his hands he had clenched so tightly had
molded into the inside of his fist, he stared at what he
had created and felt something stir within him, the spirit
within him moving.

As he stood, he felt the strength of his ancestors flowing
from within the ground he stood upon, it's fortitude
tempering his spirit.

Carrying his fathers lifeless body to the forge and placed
it upon the dull embers within it's breach. He closed
his eyes and remembered his fathers words as his body
began to smoke and smoulder.

He shall not fear the darkness, the darkness shall come to
fear the fires of the earth, his soul tempered against the
taint he shall strike out in retribution, the darkness
shall be driven before him, his fury unleashed against it.

Juhldalor opened his eyes once again, their earthy tone
tempered with the fires of the earth, resolute and ready
to seek retribution against the darkness.

Role

Chapter 10

"HAR dare eh lad eh! Whad yer bein doin dare eh!" Juhldalor
said to Ckol, a warrior seeker of the village.

"I was thinking of going to seek the Lady Ysaloerye." Replied
Ckol.

"HAR! Ah be meetin yer dare den eh! Makin sure yer bringin
some ale wid yer dare eh!" Juhldalor replied forcefully.

Once they both stood within the Inn, Ckol and Juhldalor
tiped back their ale and spoke of the Biddy. Juhldalor
had asked if Ckol had wished to learn more of the paragon
they sought. He had wished it so Juhldalor had imparted
with him the same wisdom she had shared with him...


They spoke for a bit of the fires of the earth, and the
shaping of the world. Juhldalor shared his personal desires
of striking against the darkness, and of the fire that
burned within his gut, like the earth fire that was ever
aflame deep in the ground, his tempered heart would hold
no fear of the darkness, and within his soul the strength
and fortitude of the mountain would remain.

Ckol spoke briefly of his will to shape the world and shape
his future upon the forge of the paragon.

Juhldalor and Ckol struck out briefly against the dark mages
of the pit and their journey ended with clasped hands and
a nod.

Role

Chapter 9

Juhldalor had spoken with the other stonemason, and a follower
of Baerinika regarding their places within the fortress of
light. All too often Juhldalor was calling out to them to
strike out against the horrible odds of the darkness, Juhldalor
had called to them to strike against the Imperials and Dark Mages.

Both the Captain and the Marshall having returned to the earth
Juhldalor approached the misty jungles of the Jaguar.

"HAR!!" Juhldalor walked amoung the mists, the Jaguars peeking
out of the shadows and taking sniffs at him. Juhldalor took
a long swig of his dark dwarven ale and wipes his mouth as
he prayed to the Elven Maiden of the Fortress.

Baerinika arrived by stepping into the light, the point of her
spear sharp and glistning within the soft shimmering light.
Juhldalor raised his eyes to the elven maiden, his gaze
shifting up and down as he looked over the length of the powerful
spear.

He reached down and took another swig of his ale, feeling it's
warmth within his gut, he smiled to himself as he could heart
the ground grinding beneath the heel of his boots.

"HAR Dare! Elfy Maiden dare eh!" Juhldalor said as he extended
a tankard of ale.

Baerinika looked down at Juhldalor with contempt and shook her
head in disdain. "What do you want, Juhldalor." She snapped

Juhldalor spoke of the fires in his heart, and of the fires
within the earth, he spoke of the fortitude of his soul and
of his biddy. Baerinika seemed disinterested and told Juhldalor
that he had to speak in a logical and concise manner, and
suggested that perhaps he return after not drinking for a bit.


Looking down at his tankard of ale, Juhldalor tried to simplfy
his desires a bit more for the elven maiden whom had difficulty
understanding him.

"HAR dare den eh!" Juhdalor said snorting a bit to himself,
his voice parched as he looked down at his tankard of dark bitter
sweet ale.

"Ah be takin dis fargin end o'er ere eh!" Juhldalor nodded to
the end of his sword. "Ahn ah be stickin it dare in dem
heart er dem fargin taint dare eh!" he said with satisfaction.

Baerinika again looked clearly unimpressed and said something
"elfy". And mentioned that he should watch his mouth.

Juhldalor replied by saying that she didn't understand his
passion or what he had stood for within his soul, so he did
exactly what she had asked, and simplified it as best he could.

Stick the pointy end of this, into the dark. Simple.

Baerinika said then that what he sought then was to be of the
fortress. Juhldalor nodded, and explained in no uncertain terms
that he sought to bring the fires of the biddy to the heart
of the taint.

Juhldalor struggled with his words as he did his best to watch
what he said in front of the elven maiden.

"Ah bein far.. .err.. fightin dem far.. pox riddle far... errr...
dem blasted whor... errr.. dem far.. errr.. dem bastids dare eh!"

"ARRUUGHHH" Juhldalor grunted to himself. What's so wrong with
saying what you mean.


Juhldalor told a story of the dark, and how the fire within his
heart had shaped the world in some small way.

He spoke of a battle with Shenkov, within the Talishadar caves
near the pit of the Scions. His groupmates had sought to flee
for they feared the darkness, they said Shenkov would slay them
all to

Role

Chapter 8

Juhldalor had been wandering around the lands, recollecting
what he had lost from a raging battle against the imperials
within the palace earlier, two assassins and the necromancer
clissa fighting him as he raided for the codex.

He had spotted Janos upon the eastern road and prepared himself
for battle. He struck out against the darkness and in an intense
battle, slaying the taint, the final blow landing from a guard
on the eastern road.

Juhldalor met up with two of the fortress, and prepared for
battle against Masha, Satabos and Shulyzara. Ramora had
also shown from the shadows.

Again along the eastern road they charged, Juhldalor was the
first to strike against Masha, preventing her song of slumber
against the party. Satebos and Shulyzara struck at Juhldalor
attempting to immolate and giving the command to "Die!"

Masha fled and had returned, but Juhldalor was ready for this
tactic and struck again the the fiery wrath of the biddy,
his strike of faith landing broadly across her body, he
struck again and Masha fled. Satebos attempted to zap at
Juhldalor with a wand of crushing force and stones flew at
him from the mage. Masha fled convulsing upon the ground
and later died from either wounds or the other stonemason.

The entire horde of Satebos's army struck at Juhldalor as he
struck with what strength he had, the lich calling upon his
zombies to rescue him from combat as his wounds mounted from
the devestating blows from Juhdalors sword. The dark elf mage
joining in again as Juhldalor's already weakened body had
nearly given out.

.....

Resting near the whitecloak camp, Juhldalor took another long
drink of ale as he meditated upon the fight previously. The
strength of the earth flowing from below him, tempering his
spirit and giving him strength. His heart thumped steadily
within his chest as he prayed to his Lady.

He reached down, grabbing a fistful of earth he clenched it
tightly and thought again of the last thing his father said
to him before he had returned to the ground...

Role

Chapter 6

Juhldalor arrived at the Hammer once again, bringing a supply
of dark dwarven ale to the masons in the vast cavern. The barmaid
in the hammer useless by the fact she doesn't even serve ale.

"HAR dare lads eh! Makin use er mehself ere bringing yer a
bit er gud dark ale ere eh!" Juhldalor yelled into the cavern.

He watched as the Masons worked their craft, smoothing and carving
the figures out of the stone.

Juhldalor walked over to one of the stalagmites and placed his hands
on it's rough surface. Moving his hands over it's stoney face he
could feel the strength within the earth, and within his mind an
image could be seen of what was within the stone.

"HAR dare eh!" He yelled as he shook his head, the fires within his
heart exploding through his chest. "Fargin ell dare eh Biddy, Fargin ell"
He said to himself.

Juhldalar walked over near the gravel pit and plopped himself down,
drinking his ale and watching the masters of the paragon work their craft.
He smiled abit to himself and felt comforted by their tireless energy.

He thought of the biddy, and what they would talk about next they
saw each others... And what they would have on hand to drink...

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Role

Chapter 2

"Fargin ell!" Juhldalor thought to himself, his words to
Throkk lost within his vacuous head. "Ah almos havin em
understandin bout dem earth dare eh, ahn em goin on ta
speakin er dem bone ahn stone. FARGIN ELL! Iffn ah ner
knowin bout dem stone ahn bone, ahn ner knowin who fargin
do!"

Throkk had dismissed Juhldalor now, wearing his simple
white robe, and his spirit ripped from the breast of the
earth, and his Lady Ysaloerye.

Juhldalor had felt the Greed and Envy creeping into his
heart he thought in retrospect. He winced as he thought
of his father, and how it was the same that had bought
his soul and led him into that path of darkness..

His Final words still echo'ing in Juhldalor's mind, and
their final moments together the purist his father had.

He realized now, that the weapons created by this envy
had served against his people, he too, had been a Kinslayer.


Just as this epiphany struck at Juhldalor, a slithering
yet promising voice of Enlilth struck his mind.

"Yer fargin Gully slime dare eh!" Juhldalor shouted at
him. Enlilth offering Juhldalor to serve him, to follow
as his father did.

"By dem fargin biddy beard!" Juhldalor thought to himself,
for his life he had not known whom that figure at the forge
had been, for his life he had only assumed it being
the dark lord, his minions or a demon, perhaps some otherwise
tainted soul.

But now he understood...

"Dem Fargin Biddy shovin yer fargin head up yer fargin
arse dare eh! Yer slimy fargin gully rat bastid!" Juhldalor
screamed at Enlilth. "Dem BIddy kickin yer fargin arse wid
jus er fargin beard dare eh!"

It was then that Enlilth came for Juhldalor at the Altar
of the Paragon, striking against his starved and depraived
body. The Final blow raised above his head, Ysaloerye came
and laid her hammer over his body.

A tremendous battle took place, Ysaloerye striking out against
the duergar, every part of her body a weapon against the foul
taint.

Ysaloerye had come.

Role

Chapter 3

Juhldalor sought to reflect a bit on the events, and as his past
revelations have come to him as he dreamt of ale and earth, his
path became clear.

Depriving himself of all sustinance, a great fast for redemption,
Juhldalor shall not take in the drink of ale, and shall not take
a taste of the hearty grains of wheat borne of the dark rich earth.

He shall himself suffer as the families of the fallen have suffered,
and if this path removes him from his duties as a Maran, so be it.

For his heart and will shall shape this earth, and he himself shall
be shaped by his Lady Ysaloerye. If she finds redemption within her heart
she shall grant it, if not, Juhldalor will simply return to the earth
from where he has come, his last breath of life returning to the Nordiach
from wence it came.

Role

Chapter 4

Kinslayer, Kinslayer! They chanted in Juhldalor's Dream.
When he awoke, he had found himself labeled, labeled for
the act of another. Shoved by Eoria to fight against his
own kind. The Elite guards he sought to aid him.

The Lady Ysaloerye turning her back on her former apprentice
under pressure from Ludan, Captain of the Dwarven Armies of
Morton. Stripping him of most of his ability, the earth
beneath his feet no longer giving him the strength he has
enjoyed so much of his life. It's song feeling distant.

Was it not Ludan who struck out against the elves of the
fortress, he thought to himself. If anyone could defend them
it was he, rescuing his allies from the beatings of the
dwarven captain.

If any sought to spill kin blood, it was Ludan, raging across
the courtyard of the Fortress. Nearly slaying the felar
Ranger, the elves and Juhldalor.

Yet Juhldalor would not raise weapon against his kin, and
offered what he had for the families of the fallen soldier.

Feeling Hollow, Juhldalor will seek redemption in the eyes
of Ysaloerye.

At first rage filled his heart, and he struck out at the
darkness with blind hatred for their acts against him.

Contimplating the path of his father, he thought perhaps
of turning his soul the same as he had, for those around
him that had done less, have recieved more. He felt Envy
creep into his heart slowly, a bitterness inside that
he will try to shove to the side.

For now, he truly had a grudge to bear.

Role

Chapter 5

Igbah, Satebos and Shenkov Approached the Fortress,
all day Juhldalor had been defending against the
onslaughts of the darkness, and they had been successful
in taking back their item of power. Now they had come
for the orb, hoping to Pick each one of the Maran Off.

Juhldalor knew this would happen, and told the Fortress
they must strike first.

"HAR! Den Fargin comin eh! Git ready dare eh!" Juhldalor
shouted at the fortress. The Idea was to focus on Igbah
first, then deal with Shenkov, Juhldalor's goal was to
scatter the zombie hoard by turning them to ash quickly.

Juhldalor lead the party of elves into battle, just south
of the Maran Guardian. "FER DEM LIGHT EH!" They charged.

Acvilar called the wrath down upon Igbah, Followed by a swift
kick by Daichyl. Juhldalor entered and exited combat continually
calling down wrath upon the massive hoard of the undead.

Seliest was the first to fall, using a cone of cold that struck
the entire undead army. Juhldalor thought this was very very
foolish. As it was his duty to take their blows.

Igbah and Shenkov Fled, leaving the Lich. Juhldalor struck out
at Satebos, the fires within his soul burning fiercly, ready
to die to protect his frail elven brothers. Juhldalor remebered
his several encounters with Satebos, and the liches narrow
escape each time.

Daichyl struck Satebos solid with his rising pheonix kick, Juhdalor
hammered at him with a stunning strike of faith and Acvilar struck
again with the wrath of the Jaguar.

The final strike was Juhldalor, ending the life of the lich.
Quickly Juhldalor survayed the land, to make sure no other
battle continued, and then gathered the stock of Phylactery
that contained the souls of so many innocents, so many that
had been stolen to service Satebos.

Juhldalor sacrificed each and every one of them, the mountains
trembling beneath him as the souls of the damned screached in
freedom. He remembered his friends, whose souls the Lich had
stolen when he was unable to protect them from this foul taint.

Feeling the strength of the earth beneath him grow, he closed
his eyes and prayed to Ysaloerye, her fire growing within his heart.

Role

Chapter 1

Ysaloerye had chased off the Duergar, and her and Juhldalor
stood at the Altar, The Biddy fuming at her former apprentice.

"Ah knowin ah be diss'apointin ta yer dare meh Biddy eh."

'Fargin understatement o' tha millennia thur.' Ysaloerye retorted back.

Ysaloerye spoke of the smith, and how blades had that survived
the fire, come out stronger. Juhldalor had thought the same thing to
himself several times during his fast. If he could survive through
this, if he was once again favored, it would indeed lead him to
great strength.

Ysaloerye asked which stone smiths prefer. Juhldalor thought that
the whetstone used to shape the blades was too simple the answer.
Mithril came to his mind, coveted by his kin.

He did not realize Ysaloerye ment which stone he liked to work with
and which stone he as a stonemason preferred.

Tried as he might, he had not yet perfected the shaping of stone
as much as he hacked away at the stalagmites within the vast
cavern near the hammer. His chisels dulled fast and his skill
grew as he toiled, yet he had not yet created a masterpiece.

Juhldalor had hoped the Lady Ysaloerye would reveal this skill to him.

He could see what was within the stone, and his heart led him as
he striked with his hammer, yet it's shape had yet to reveal itself.

He had always admired granite, the igneous rock of the earth, it's
face can be left raw, sawed at with iron, or bronze, and sanded
with grit until it is smooth and rough. It's crystalline structure
danced alive when lit with the fires of the earth. With enough
work, tin and the finest crushed diamonds, granite could be polished
to shine as if made of glass.

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