Before I start, I'd like to point out that I'm new at this(The story telling part) but found the irony of it to be worth posting. He died before I found out the actual mountainhome he cam from, so that is(Obviously) BS.
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This is the story, of Erith Necikmosus.
Erith was born in the little dwarven city of Uristville in 203AD... but little uristville was a poor useless town with nothing to gain. Erith became a soaper when he was 59, but nobody wanted soap, nor could they afford it. So he went off to Linedlash to seek his fortune. The moment he arrive, he was drafted to the military and stationed on a bridge inside the fort...he and his newfound 'friends' stood on the bridge, and as soon as they were there a voice boomed.
"PULL THE LEVER!" it cried, and the bridge withdrew from under them. Erith fell, wondering why it had come to this? Then he realized it was his own fault for being a soapmaker. As he hit the ground, he found he was...ALIVE! The fall had not killed him! He had not a moment to celebrate before the spear of a dwarf above him landed and hit him in the lung.
He started hacking up blood, but as he did so another dwarf took note of him. "'EY! Floating voice in the sky, e've gut a live'un!"
And so the voice said, "Very well, he shall live and make his soap" So it was said, and so it was done. Erith was a happy little bugger then, and he rushed up the stairs, but before he reached the top, he collapsed, fell down the stairs, and died of suffocation...
And thus ends the story of Erith, the dwarf that couldn't