Did this for shiggles.
The origin of the Hammerer.
Legends speak of the first hammerer, a dwarf once captured by the goblins when he was still a suckling babe. There was much mourning in the mountainhome for months to come, but eventually the loss was soon forgotten as the parents received a bountiful boom of children. The children grew to be strong, clever, and loved by all.
Until one day...
A wicked band of goblins ambushed the fort, killing several farmers and woodcutters. The alarm was sounded and the militia was roused. The dwarves met the goblins with the force of an avalanche, slaying all but for one. The goblin leader, armed with warhammer of dark iron danced through the swings of the axelords, dodged the spearlords' swift stabs, and parried the swordlords' slashes with ease. Despite all their training and all their weapons, they could not stop him. Skulls and limbs were broken like kindling, and by the end only he remained.
The dwarves in the fortress looked on in horror, and prayed to their gods for a swift death as they saw him rush toward the fort with the fury of a hurricane. His rampaging charge soon ended, as he triggered a simple cage trap. Seeing such a terrible foe layed low by a defense meant for bothersome wildlife would have been an amusing sight, if not for the fact the warrior's helm fell off.
It was a dwarf, almost unrecognizable by the smooth face and the sober eyes. Several of the dwarves recognized him from from old engravings in the fortress walls. Regardless, none, not even the parents of the dwarf were willing to release him, but none had the heart to murder a fellow dwarf.
For months, the dreadful bane of the mountainhome's finest sat within, a stranger among his own kind, neither greenskin or digbeard. Then one day, a dwarven emissary from the capital arrived. When he spied that dwarf in the cage, he inquired about his identity.
When informed, a strange smile appeared upon his bearded visage. He asked if he could take him back to the capital and would even pay them to take him off their hands. The dwarves gladly agreed, and felt as if a terrible burden has been lifted.
However, those who forget the horrors of the past are doomed to revisit them. A regal baron came to the fort, apparently impressed by the achievements of that small town. The reception party was one of easy smiles and gentle laughter, until they saw the escort. HE had come again.
The baron noticed their disquiet and reassured them that it was nothing to worry about, as he was once again "civilized." That was before the mandates of slade and crystal.
When the fort was reclaimed many decades later, all that remained of the original inhabitants was a pile of broken bones in the fort's dungeon, and one corpse seated upon a golden throne, its skull crushed in.
The assailant's whereabouts, identity, or his purpose are still unknown.
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Topic: The origin of the hammerer. (Read 692 times)