His hammer was a blurr of attacks, fallen Duergar lay strewn about his feet, soaking in pools of their own blood. Seeing all their fallen kin the Duergar would veer off to fight a less stout foe. Threndor took this chance to help his clansmen, healing, blessing, and fighting by their sides. Till he finally stood beside a quite large Defender of the clan. It was his father, Thalan, captain of the Defenders.
They fought back to back, their weapons swinging with fluid motions, as if they were extensions of the arms. Their clansmen seeing the two fighting off a large portion of the assailants, began to close in on them, creating a defensive circle, side by side joining their captain, and his priestly son.
They fought wave after wave, sweat and blood creating an almost nauseating stench. With a brilliant flash, a pillar of divine light smashed down into the remaining Duergar, Threndor's whispered prayers drowned out by the thunderous sound.
Thalan lay in his bed, half awake, half dreaming, a vision playing on the inside of his closed eyelids. He sat stright up, his eyes fluttering open, a grim smile creasing his aged face. Quickly throwing on his robe, he stormed out of his bedchambers with hasty determination. Down the hall, three doors on the left hand side, he burst into Threndor's room, chuckling at the loud snores coming from the ball of muscle on the bed. With a start Threndor jumped out of bed, grasping his axe that lay beside it on the floor, not a stitch of clothing on. Seeing his father he quickly relaxed, "By da 'ells pa, wut ye doin stormin inta me room like dat". Thalan smiled as he motioned for Threndor to cover himself. "Ole Silverbeard 'as granted me a vision my son, get dressed an' meet me in da barracks". With that Thalan left the room, closing the door behind him.
As Threndor entered the barracks, he saw his father sitting at a table, one elbow on the table with his hand supporting his chin. "Gud, gud ye are 'ere lad, i will try ta make dis quick, ye 'ave a long journey ahead of ye".
"Silverbeard be's showin me dat ye must journey ta a town called Daggerfalls.....there yer destiny will be shown ta ye, all i can tell ye is dat, i 'ave seen ye training, and battlin alongside a burly kinsmen with an axe covered in lightnin, and a priestess o' Moradin. I's also seen'd a Temple bearing the symbols of Moradin, Silverbeard, an' all of Moradin's lessers. With yerself and four udder kinsmen standin inside it."
"I 'ave gathered yer battle gear fer ye, an' i's got sumptin ta show ye as well". Thalan reveals a rolled up parchment, as he rolls it out on the table Threndor's eyes begin to widen, a drawing of a dwarven crafted axe, with a symbol of Clangeddin forged into the blade itself, covers the parchment.
"dis be's da plans fer an axe blessed by Clanggedin 'imself lad, in me vision it was 'angin from yer belt in da Temple". "I 'ave ne'er seen'd an axe like dis before, but me guess is it be's part o' yer destiny lad".
"Now get yer gear on an' git ye gone lad, ye will travel north, into da dalelands, den ventually ta daggerfalls".
After his goodbyes to his clan, Threndor made his way down the mountain,
one hand grasping the symbol of Clangeddin that hung from his neck, Dwathor-Kek would no longer be his home....his destiny was now upon him.