25th of Slate, 1101 Today, I finally reached Mindfulring, a small town of Omon Woge. I did not plan on settling there, me being a wandering dwarf and all, but nevertheless I decided to stop at a nearby inn to have a chat with the locals. There, I found a group of men huddled in a corner, whispering quickly to each other, each one with a fearful look etched upon his face. I heard one of them say something about a murder and blood, but, he stopped, having noticed me approaching them. The men glared suspiciously at me, when one of them noticed the sword strapped to my back. He must have taken me to be a warrior, for he turned upon me and told me about a vampire who had been preying on the village, asking me to slay it. I was taken aback, for, although I had served as a guard to trading caravans for some time, killing things was not my hobby. However, glancing at the fearful men, I accepted, more out of pity than valour.
I found the man they described in the town’s keep. I was surprised to find that the man was a priest, but I nevertheless spoke an ancient verse to reveal a vampire’s true identity, and so it was revealed. The vampire immediately murdered the nearest priest. Whilst he was busy cutting another poor man to pieces, I took five strides towards him and promptly cut him in half. Ah, steel. The sharpness of this sword sometimes surprises even me.
I reported my success to the men at the inn, and was about to continue on my way, when someone asked me to clear out the dungeons of a few shady characters that had found refuge there. I obliged, and found the dungeon infested with kobolds. The slaughter that followed actually served as a great source of experience for me! By the time I was done, I was already an accomplished swordsdwarf and skilled shield user.
Incidentally, one of the humans later asked me whether dwarves really are heartless. I left the answer up to him to decide.
26th of Slate 1101The people back in Mindfulring actually asked me to clean out their sewers of vampires. Hah! I may be a dwarf, but, by Armok’s beard, there is no way I am going down there. If they want to kill those vampires so badly, they can send their own men down there. Or flood the tunnels with magma or make them cave in on themselves.
I left Mindfurling and travelled north, with no fixed destination in mind. Eventually, the sun started to set, so I made a beeline for the nearest town, Duskbeasts. I was too late.
Now, dwarves are in no way possessed by fear of darkness. They live deep underground, with little to no natural light, so day and night mean little to a dwarf. Up in the Overlands however, the shift between day and night is far more noticeable. To a tired, wary adventurer, whose minds are constantly filled with pictures of terrifying beasts who would like nothing more than to tear the adventurer to shreds, the darkness is incredibly traumatic. Every shadow around you seems to take the form of your greatest fears. For an adventurer travelling alone, with no one to console him and tell him that the shadows are simply a figment of his overactive imagination, these shadow creatures become so real to him, that he actually believes that they are real and can hurt him. This is merely the work of a tired, scared brain and should be ignored.
Unless, of course, those shadows actually are actually punching you so hard that they break your toe, in which case you are facing bogeymen, the bane of young adventurers, and should run as fast and as far as you can. Which, of course, were precisely what I encountered on that dark, terrifying night. The shadows rose and shifted around me, moulding into shapes that resembled creatures form my worst nightmares. I ran, lashing out wildly whenever one of the shadows seemed to get to close to me. However, run as I might, I could never escape them. I feared for my life, and knew that once I stopped running it would be all over. Suddenly, I felt my mind sharpen and my senses heighten, adrenaline flowing through me. I had entered the legendary martial trance of dwarfkind, the final defense that kicks in when a dwarf finds himself surrounded and hopelessly outnumbered.
Grabbing my sword firmly, I slashed at the nearest bogeyman, severing his head right off. The shadow fell limply to the ground, and did not rise again. Then the realisation hit me. These were nothing more than physical beings, using fear against their prey. They could be killed. Laughing maniacally, I turned to face the horde, and sliced through each and every one of them, using my heightened senses to accurately sever off their heads. Eventually, the cackling stopped completely and I left the trance. The bogeymen were dead.
I continued walking towards town, and slept through the rest of the night in the first inn I found.