(A tale of wonder, redemption, and choking. Apologies for lack of earlier pictures, I did not expect this to happen)
An inexplicably wealthy fortress of 80 plodded along, occasionally uncovering caverns filled with terrible what not and whoosits. But they soldiered on, as gold was plentiful, and steel was easily crafted from the coal and hematite deposits. Uncovering one such cavern, a forgotten beast of yore was uncovered, and the dwarves hastily boarded up the cavern with the finest chalk they could find.
Except they missed a spot.
But cavern life went on. The fortress continued making serrated steel disks, as was the fashion of the time. An unassuming Dwarf with the name Cryptriddle was an unspectacular example of his species, making doors and tables, nary an artifact or even masterwork to his name(which would later prove prophetic). Years went by with the occasional goblin assault, but nothing a dwarfy amount of steel disks could not stop.
Then the forgotten beast finally decided it was time to see what all this racket was about.
Unprepared for an attack from within, things did not go well for the dwarves.
The forgotten beast had made its way to the top of the fortress, bursting forth into the light, when cryptriddle saw his wife torn in two in front of his eyes, he went into a berserker rage.
He leapt to the attack, and narrowly dodged a flailing assault by the beast, only losing an ear. No longer able to hear the sound of himself losing, he knew he was winning. He punched the beast as hard as he could, and tore open his wing, grounding the fell monster. The beast slamed him into the nearby wall and shattered his right leg, causing blood to pour into the river below.
Then the beast began to choke him.
The Beast continued to choke him. (for sixty pages.)
The few surviving dwarves quickly walled off the insane hero, saving the fortress from outside destruction. After putting down a tantrum spiral with some well placed immidwarves, they decided to memorialize the Hero. On the second day of Moonstone, they made him Mayor.
Months went by, and the Hero remained steadfast. Never Hungry. Never thirsty. He was fed by his own hatred for the beast. Cryptriddle had become legend. Unable to set mandates due to claws around his throat, he became the most beloved (that is to say, only) noble in the world.
But as the months continued into a year, they wondered if they could save the Mayor. Direct confrontation was deemed too risky, as the numbers fell to only 15, counting the Hero. It was decided that they would drop a roof on him from above. And so the tower contruction began. There is concern that when the beast is destroyed, that the grip will loosen on the mayors throat and his insides will become outsides through his mouth like a toothpaste tube, but that is a risk they are willing to take.
As the massive tower is constructed, Crypt riddle remains, forever choked, forever there. The Hero of Melbilzanor.