Role

Chapter 1

The stranger, the Drillmaster, the lost son, strode towards his fallen
father. His spiked armor glistened in the sunlight from a combination of
oils to keep it in top shape and from what appeared to be dried patches
of blood. As he neared the fallen figure he stopped once more and just
looked down at the crumpled heap of dwarf. A gurgling mutter could be
heard over the dead silent crowd "Son, ah thought yah was bloody lost ta
me. Ah thought tha worst! Ah thought yah was dead! Ahm, ah, ahm, ahm
bloody glad yah back, ah've missed yah yah daft twit. Ah'd 'eard tales,
stories an tha like, o' one from our city that was bein' a betrayer to
'is kin, 'bout one who was becomin' strong, one who was becomin' blessed
by tha Gods 'emselves an each day ah 'oped it was yah, 'oped more'n
anythin yah were safe. An after feelin' what yah can do, son, ahm proud
ta say ahm bloody 'onored ta 'ave raised such a strong son!" A near
silent snuffle came from the returned son before a grin broke out across
his face. "Pa, ah got so much ta tell yah, so bloody much! But first o'
all there's someone ah want yah ta meet. This 'ere, this is mah Lady,
this is tha one who 'as mah 'eart, mah soul an everythin' ahm bein'. Ah'd
like ta introduce yah to mah Lady Iunna." At the mention of her name a
startled look came across the smith and his wife while the entire crowd
took a hesitant step back, unsure on what to do. But before anyone could
react Goroel continued "But before we be gettin' to tha catchin' up ah've
got somethin' ta bloody take care o'. Pa, tha blade, still bein' in mah
closet?" As the smith sat up, back against the wall for support, he
nodded slowly and as he did so the Drillmaster strode into the house and
quickly returned with a blade of which the likes none of us had ever seen
before. It shined in the light, seeming to sing in anticipation as the
air moved over its edges. "Ah'll be right back Ma. Pa, ahm goin' ta right
a wrong that's been sittin' over mah 'ead fer so bloody long." The
stranger strode past the crowd quickly, heading straight towards the
palace. As he neared the open palace gates he raised his face to the
battlements, to the ramparts, to the heavens themselves and bellowed with
all the rage he could muster, all the anger, all the frustration he had
pent up over his entire life "Put yah worthless magics down, 'uman, yah
time is up, it's bein time ta bloody end this once an fer all! Ahm comin'
fer yah, an this time yah tricks won't be doin' yah no good!"