|Race||Gender||Alignment||Starting Stats (after racial mods)|
STR 17 DEX 12 CON 16 INT 10 WIS 11 CHA 8
|Cycle||Lvl||Class||Feats + Abilities|
|--||1||Dw. Ftr1||Exotic Prof: Dwarven Waraxe, [Axefocus1]|
|--||2||Brb||[Rage 1/day, Fast movement]|
|Orcs||3||Brb||Power Attack, [Uncanny Dodge]|
|Winter||4||Rgr||[Ambidex, F. Enemy: Orc], +1 STR|
1 - Dwarf Fighter substitution level, from Races of Stone|
The fall of his home, Mor Dunehaim, broke all of Rorik's social ties, leaving him completely lost. He embraced Haseath, the patron god of dwarves before civilization, of those alone and without delves. He felt only loneliness, bitterness, and rage. Yet there is still good and caring within him, and as he recovers, these good emotions return. Of his new friends, he enjoys Sarah's company the most, for she reminds him of the care and altruism that marked the dwarven heroes of old.
Rorik's childhood was like that of most dwarves. He trained in the militia, at the forge, in the mines, and at crafting stone and metal. He was officially courting a girl named Magnus, and looking forward to engagement. He had only occasionally been outside the delve, and never further than 50 miles afield.
All this changed in a single night. He and another young dwarf named Boren were tending the forge. Apprentices often slept in the forge at night, for two reasons: one was to keep the forges burning, and the other was to use the time to practice basic smithing and smelting, working with odd scraps of metal. Rorik was sleeping in a back alcove while Boren took his turn minding the forge. He faintly heard the sounds of metal on metal, and slept on.
Then Boren was shaking him awake, telling him to get up, to arm himself, Mor Dunehaim was under attack! Boren was bleeding, but already dashing back out of the forge to find and protect the delve king. Rorik strapped on some armor and grabbed an axe.
Stepping out of the forge, he saw the bloody floor of the Great Hall littered with the bodies of orcs and dwarves alike. He could hear the shouts and clashes of battle throughout the delve. He ran towards the clanholds, dodging and dispatching orcs as he went. The clanholds were ransacked, and a large group of orcs caught him in one of the larger halls. He stepped back into the emergency escape passage, its secret door already open. He held the entrance, fighting back the orcs. He could hear high-pitched screaming from the clanholds, and all he could think of was Magnus, that it was Magnus screaming. The orcs slowly forced him down the narrow passage. Still he could hear the screaming. They passed the secret entrance to the king's chambers, also already open. Then the orcs rushed him, shoving him over the edge of the chasm at end of the passage. Rorik tried to grab the steel ladder bolted to the stone as he fell past, but hit the ground and lost consciousness, his body rolling down the incline.
He awoke again some time later. He was down in the Glitterhame, the network of caverns below the rest of the delve where the mines, tomb catacombs, and food caverns were. He lay among the bodies of three or four other dwarves. He could see occasional bands of two or three orcs roving through. From above, he heard a dwarf voice call out, "Retreat! The delve has fallen! Mor Dunehaim is no..." The voice ended abruptly.
Waiting for a clearing, Rorik picked himself up and slipped through the Glitterhame, past the few scouting orcs, and out the back way. He climbed the secret escape chimney to the surface, tears blurring his eyes. Then he stumbled down the hill into the trees, a dwarf without a delve.
SD Emporium : Tellurian Tales :
Last Edited: 13 Sep 2006|
©2006 by Z. Tomaszewski