They were some of the strangest dwarves ever seen.
They disliked the underground life and escaped the Mountainholmes to live a peacefull life in the forest.
They didn't share the love for the trees the elves have, so as soon as they arrived trees fell and walls were built, through labor and sweat they lifted a nice cozy Bar
and a Warehouse, farmed strawberries and let the hens breed.
Strange dwarves.
Besmar Moldathtan was a little different than the rest of the other dwarves though.
She was the wife of the expedition leader and came along even when the idea of living with the sky as a ceiling and walls and houses of wood.
No metal to bend, no stone to carve...no industry to speak of.
The wild life provided the little meat they had to eat and Besmar was responsible to hunt it.
The years passed and the Mountainholmes was probably angry at the traitorous dwarves, no caravan and no migrants came.
And Besmar was getting gradually better at shooting with the crossbow she made herself.
Tiger-headed creatures attacked! And retreated after a volley of the now Legendary Besmar. One fell at the cage trap.
They prepared the encaged Tiger-headed woman to the shooting galery.
It was then she had the happiness to give birth that it all came down.
As soon as the encaged creature was released, it wiggled it fingers and cuts and gashes ripped open Besmar skin! Blood gushed out and the floor was red with her blood.
She couldn't breath! And worsen it all...she was pregnant at the time.
She gave birth while her own blood soaked her armor and lost consciousness.
Chaos ensued! The creature must have been cursed as at the mere movement of its fingers her targets began to rip appart and fell at their own blood pool. It was painfull.
Their only line of defence lay on the floor and even the screams around her wasn't enough to wake her up.
Several days passed...and a little bump to her head made she finaly wake up. Her baby was with her all this time. He was hungry and fighting for his life.
She smiled at him and felt her body ache and her joints were stiff...and... by the time happiness began to fill her...her baby swelled and blew apart at her arms, drenching her already bloodstained leather armor with more blood. Shock was frozen at her face, her son dying like this.
It was painfull...Not her body for she couldn't feel a thing anymore, but her soul burned! A heat began to fill her body and she picked the familiar bone crossbow beside her, her hand moved without thought to the quiver she still had and a bolt flew true, she more felt than saw the Tiger-headed demon behind her. Blood gushed out from its throath and a bolt pinned a desperate hand trying to stop the blood to its chest! More bolts flew and all at vital spots, even at the brink of insanity her aim was perfect and bolt after bolt the demon screamed in pain! Then it stopped screaming and fell.
It was not enough...one death couldn't replace her son... it was her husband fault! HE wanted to come not her! HE had the idea "to live elsewhere"!
HE WOULD PAY! Rushing to his bed she emptied her quiver at his already bloodied face, the demon spared no one...
Besmar Moldathtan brought justice with her own hands...and eyes. The other dwarves were no match for her pain...When all the bolts were shot she then began to smash their skulls in. No one survived...
And then silence...Kneeling at her son distorted body she was at peace...and Death finaly came to comfort her, and to tell her son was waiting for her...
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Wanted to share this with you guys, hope someone find it entertaining.
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Topic: When the black sheep Strikes Back... (Read 553 times)