A dwarf sits outside the gates of Goldburg
Posted: Thu Jun 12, 2008 8:41 pm
As his ship docked in the Troll's Bane port the memory of about a month earlier crossed his mind. Four of his brethren and ten of his rescuers left this very same ship only at a different port and for a different reason. The reason is what differed their paths. The others were going toward more bloodshed and war, as he went toward a new beginning. However, not even the hope of escaping more bloodshed could rid him of the guilt he felt inside. While his brethren and rescuers went back to fight for redemption and honor he fled. Still the simple fact remained that it was impossible for him to fight at this moment. The memories of war still polluted his mind and haunted his dreams. This was enough to deter him from battle or conflict. The only words of encouragement he received came from the leader of his rescuing party, Malek, who gave him the idea to come to Gobaith.
"...I know an island that you can go to and find yourself if you are willing?"
The words echoed in his ears like a song bird. If there was one thing he was certain of it was that he needed to find himself. Gobaith felt like a good place to start. Malek gave him further advice once he arrived and that was to seek out a dwarf named Chester Copperpot.
Not even the shrilling bitter cold could thwart his footsteps toward the city of Troll's Bane. Luckily Malek gave him a map because the directions the man at the dock gave him were nothing less then shitty. Of course the distinct aroma of rum was a clear indication of why he was unable to give proper directions. It did not take him incredibly too long to arrive at the southern gate and be greeted by Nebaar who immediately started to bagger him about by some ridiculous expensive books.
Once in the city it doesn't take him long to find Borgate's tavern. Much like the man at the docks it isn't hard to smell the tantalizing aroma of dwarven brew. After a couple of beers to warm his insides or rather numb them he asks Borgate about finding Chester Copperpot. The look and answer Borgate gives overwhelming describe his state of mind
"Arr....?"
Luckily a man sitting in the bar is able to answer his questions. Unfortunately, these answers prove to be somewhat intimidating. Apparently, Chester is the leader of a settlement of new language dwarves called Goldburg just to the north of Troll's Bane. With a heavy sigh he has no option but to continue. Finding Goldburg was the exact opposite of finding a needle in a haystack.
It was at this point that Odin realized something, a settlement such as this must be well organized and knowing dwarven culture he would be required to join the militia at the very least. Looking over himself it would be easy to fake a serious ailment since there were scars all over his body from where the orcs ruthlessly drug and beat him. So it was then that Odin no older then 50 developed a chronic limp and used the weather to his advantage to be sick.
He hits his fist against the gates of Goldburg which echoes loudly through its great halls. With no answer he yells out in the dwarven tongue for assistance and when this fails he drops to the ground just under the grandeur of the banner of Goldburg.
If anyone looks out the gate or windows of Goldburg toward the entrance they will see a dwarf with a stocky build and youthfully lengthened beard. He wears tattered working pants and full leather boots and a beige peasant's shirt. His hair is mahogany brown with wavy curls that rest entangled together all the way to his shoulders. He looks ill as he sits there coughing and sneezing.
"...I know an island that you can go to and find yourself if you are willing?"
The words echoed in his ears like a song bird. If there was one thing he was certain of it was that he needed to find himself. Gobaith felt like a good place to start. Malek gave him further advice once he arrived and that was to seek out a dwarf named Chester Copperpot.
Not even the shrilling bitter cold could thwart his footsteps toward the city of Troll's Bane. Luckily Malek gave him a map because the directions the man at the dock gave him were nothing less then shitty. Of course the distinct aroma of rum was a clear indication of why he was unable to give proper directions. It did not take him incredibly too long to arrive at the southern gate and be greeted by Nebaar who immediately started to bagger him about by some ridiculous expensive books.
Once in the city it doesn't take him long to find Borgate's tavern. Much like the man at the docks it isn't hard to smell the tantalizing aroma of dwarven brew. After a couple of beers to warm his insides or rather numb them he asks Borgate about finding Chester Copperpot. The look and answer Borgate gives overwhelming describe his state of mind
"Arr....?"
Luckily a man sitting in the bar is able to answer his questions. Unfortunately, these answers prove to be somewhat intimidating. Apparently, Chester is the leader of a settlement of new language dwarves called Goldburg just to the north of Troll's Bane. With a heavy sigh he has no option but to continue. Finding Goldburg was the exact opposite of finding a needle in a haystack.
It was at this point that Odin realized something, a settlement such as this must be well organized and knowing dwarven culture he would be required to join the militia at the very least. Looking over himself it would be easy to fake a serious ailment since there were scars all over his body from where the orcs ruthlessly drug and beat him. So it was then that Odin no older then 50 developed a chronic limp and used the weather to his advantage to be sick.
He hits his fist against the gates of Goldburg which echoes loudly through its great halls. With no answer he yells out in the dwarven tongue for assistance and when this fails he drops to the ground just under the grandeur of the banner of Goldburg.
If anyone looks out the gate or windows of Goldburg toward the entrance they will see a dwarf with a stocky build and youthfully lengthened beard. He wears tattered working pants and full leather boots and a beige peasant's shirt. His hair is mahogany brown with wavy curls that rest entangled together all the way to his shoulders. He looks ill as he sits there coughing and sneezing.