Do to a mining accident Urist became trapped in the 3rd layer of caverns, alone with his steel axe. He hasn't seen the sun, or any other civilized creature in over a decade. His axe has spilled the blood of many kind of creatures, from troglodites and gremlins to giant cave spiders, cave dragons and even forgotten beasts. Urist has been hardened by all this time alone meditating with his axe.
Always looking for an exit from this place.
One day Urist hears a familiar sound, it's a drawbridge. Running towards the source of the sound he finds a fortified access, most likely to a dwarven fortress. The bridge is down, the way is clear. Urist doesn't know these dwarves, or even if they are dwarves, but it doesn't matter, he has wandered too long in the underworld. He's taking the chance.
He rushes inside. Not a soul in sight. He goes up the long staircase. Many steps, many levels. Urist feels the change in athomspheric pressure, he knows he's near the surface. The staircase ends in a narrow hallway, from the other side he hears some laughter, but it's not dwarven laughter. Hiding himself in the shadows he slowly advances through the hallway, seeing light from the other side. Something is wrong. Elves. There are elves sitting and drinking in a large dining hall. Urist knows this place was built by and for dwarves, elves have no place here.
One of the elves rises a finely crafted silver mug filled with dwarven wine, and before he even notices his arm is chopped off. The remaining elves jump from their seats preparing their bows, however they are surronded by darkness now, the torches have been put out. Unable to hear anything due to the noise of the screaming elf they don't notice the steps of Urist charging on them with the speed of a cave-in and the rage of a magma flood. Soon the elves are cut to shreds, the armless one being the only one still alive.
Urist learns from the elf of the Great Tree Jihad, of how the mortal races succumbed to the sheer masses of elves and their war animals. How castles and fortresses were now occupied by elves, wallong in riches they could have never produced by themselves. And the most horrifying of all, no trees have been cut down for years in the entire world. This last fact fill Urist with such rage he threw the mangled elf, slamming him against a wall and causing him to explode from the force of the impact.
Many elves had taken residence in that fortress, but after Urist walked out of its gates into the above world, it was empty of life and full of severed limbs. It is 313th of tha Age of Myth. Urist is sure that there are still dwarves fighting the elves, and maybe humans. Guided by a map he found on the elven barracks inside the fort he makes his way to Olomsesh, the nearest dwarven settlement. They are surprised of a dwarf coming from that direction. He tells his story and shows the recoverd map as proof that he did kill that many elves. The king congratulates him for his deeds and names him General of his armies.
It is now 315th of the Age of Myth. The armies commanded by Urist and lead into battle after his axe have pushed into the elven capitol. The High Druid shakes in fear. Humans and dwarves have banded together in were advancing by day. In the 5th of Malachite the gates of the elven palace fall. A steel axe is the first thing that comes through. The High Druid is in his trone room, sitting in his living wood throne, waiting. Urist runs into the room, his axe covered in elven blood and his eyes glowing like deep furnaces.
-I know your weakness- says the druid calmly, as he produces a single pig tail sock from his pocket and rises it above is head. After this, retaining a serene expression he throws the sock out of the window.
Urist shakes from his toes to the point of his beard. A SOCK!!!!! He has to recover it.
He runs to the window. The elven city is on fire, the druid is going to burn to death anyway, screw him. He jumps down the window into the rubble outside. The place is full of smoke, however Urist had long ago learned to guide himself and find things without using hi eyes. He smells something. Even though the place is full of smoke from the burning wood he can detect the scent of burning pig tail fiber. The !!sock!! is near. Following his nose the finds it. There's not much left of it, but its still a sock. Then Urist notices another smell, like dwarven flesh burning. Oh, Urist is on fire!
Through the cracks from the burning wood he hears a loud laughter and a flap of wings. The druid was escaping in a giant kea. Urist had to think quick, specially since he was burning. He threw his axe into the air, not aiming at the bird, just propelling it slightly above the smoke. The kea saw. A shiny object down there. Disobeying the elf command the giant kea flew down to where the axe fell and landed. The druid was furious and scared.
The druid heard a thundering voice from behind him -For the socks!- before getting his skull caved in with a !!pig tail fiber sock!!
Wow, that was long
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Topic: What Would Urist Do? (Read 673486 times)