The Tale Of Boulder Warshield

Subject: The Tale Of Boulder Warshield Thu Nov 06, 2008 7:58 pm

The wind gusted through Keeper's Dale blowing the heavily falling snow into the red chapped face of the lone dwarf who was hunched forward and plowing through the blizzard towards the western gate of Mithril Hall.Reverberating off of the sheer walls of the Dale the howling wind drowns out the heavy breathing and muttered curses spewing from the stocky dwarfs mouth.The ice which clings to his bushy eyebrows and long blonde hair and beard was starting to block his vision a bit as it accumulated more and more as the storms intensity picked up.With less than one hundred yards to go he mutters to himself "Almos' 'ere lad.By tha gods almos' 'ere." Boulder had just returned from a pilgrimage whereupon he had sat atop one of the tallest peaks he could find in the Spine after having fasted for several days and communed with his God.Oh how he couldn't wait to thaw out! Then he would call upon Sparkle Leadbetter to tell her of what he had been told and how he would manage the rest of his life.His family he hoped would understand.Stomping up to the door with a hammer and banging out the code, the huge doors open a crack to let one bulky dwarf step through before slamming shut in a swirl of snow.

"I don' wanna work tha damn forge fer tha res' o' me days dammit!" Boulder growls with a ruby red face and clenched teeth.Standing in front of him with two huge fists balled up and on his hips was a noble looking dwarf with a long blonde beard streaked with grey tucked into his belt.He had a bulbous nose and a scar that ran from the left corner of his eye to the length of a blocky jaw.His wrinkled face told the tale of his life and existence.A definitive road map to wisdom and honor as was apparent by the look he was giving his son and the way he carried himself in general.Eyeing him a moment he calmly replies "Well I's canna make ye lad but I's want ye ta make sure'n ye know wha' yer doin' an' wha' be righ' in yer heart.Gods knows I's tried ta talk ye outta 'is from tha day ye announced ye were leavin'.The old dwarf sighs resignedly and his shoulders sag a bit and his age becomes very apparent.Looking up he says "Two hunnert an' fifty-nine years I's been walkin' tha face o' Toril an' ne'er have I's e'er met someone who be as damned stubborn as ye are.An' that's sayin' somethin' considerin' I's been fighin' longside Bruenor Battlehammer fer many o' year!An' since I's canna stop ye I's reckon I's have ta help ye but don' tell yer Ma er she'll ne'er fergive me.Now go write 'er a note an' leave it on yer bed.Go pack up yer thins while she still be's at tha market in tha lower halls an' meet me by tha doors leadin' south." With a nod of acceptance and his bluster faded Boulder turns and stomps towards his room.Once inside he throws an extra set of traveling clothes into it and double checks all of his adventuring gear.Looking towards the ceiling he says out loud "Clangeddin I have faith.Don' know where I'm ta be headin' an' learnin' but I know yer gonna guide me." At the doors his father gives him a big hug with a single tear running from one of his warm green eyes.With a sniffle and a nod he says gruffly while wiping the tear away "Now don' ye e'er fergit where yer home be's lad an' know yer always welcome.Send a message too tellin' us where yer travels be's takin' ye.An' after ye fin' yerself a measure o' skill in battle come home an' I's will give ye yer inheritance.Tha armor, shield an axe at's been passed down through our family since before Mithril Hall was even thinked bouts." With a firm squeeze of his shoulder and a playful shove Boulders father says "Now go an' make a name fer yerself.An' knows 'at yer representin tha Warshield name an' honor.Show 'em wha' us boys from Mithril Hall be's all bout me son.I loves ye an' yer makin' me prouder'n an I 'on't know wha'.Now git ye gone!" Boulder wraps his father in one more huge hug and shrugging into his bulging leather travel pack he tells the guards to open the gate.

Wiping the sweat from his face he grins wide showing a mouthful of small well rounded white teeth."At's tha firs' time all day lad.Well done." Boulder wags his head proudly as he looks at the breastplate he just finished. "Aye Filgrimm tis a nice piece o' work if'n I do say so meself." Chuckling, he places it to the side of the anvil and declares himself ready for a night on tha town.A night in Pheasants Feather proper was just what Boulder needed.Maybe he thought to himself just maybe I'll have the courage to ask Mirlen to dance this eve.Shrugging the thought aside he plunges his head into the trough and begins scrubbing the forge dust from his body.After bathing in the trough and waiting for Filgrimm the pair begin walking the road which would take them to the Pheasants Feather, Boulders favorite tavern.Laughing hard he sits down in the chair and takes another drink of his ale and winking at Mirlen smiles across the table to Filgrimm. BOOM! The explosion throws Boulder from his chair and hurls him to the ground in a heap against the wall several feet away.After several hours he awakes with a groan and sharp stabs of pain emanating from what seemed every portion of his body. Boulder looks around and struggles to his feet amidst the smoldering ruins of what was once the Pheasants Feather but is now nothing more than a smoking husk of charred carnage.Pinned to what remained of the far wall next to the bar in a gruesome pose was Mirlen.A spear protruded from her chest and her chin rested at an odd angle on her shoulder.Smoking bodies lie strewn about the rest of the Feather in various forms of dissaray.After searching among the bodies for his friend and mentor he does not find him and a glimmer of hope crosses his mind.Did Filgrimm perhaps by some miracle make it out?

Subject: Re: The Tale Of Boulder Warshield Thu Nov 06, 2008 8:34 pm

Upon leaving the wreckage of the inn his hopes were immediately crushed.Lying amongst a pile of bodies spread in a circle around him was Filgrimm.A large gaping wound decorated his torso and his innards were piled in a cold blackening heap beside him.Nine.Boulder counted nine dead men around him.A helluva showing he made for himself in his final moments.Moradin would be honored to welcome Filgrimm into his hall this night.Picking up his friends body and cradling him in his muscular arms he carries him to the farm they shared and worked through the night digging his grave.After giving him a proper burial he again packs his traveling pack and sets his feet to the road.This time a look of anger and vengeance is written on his features.The hard look for the usual amiable one he presented gave him a sinister even menacing look.Many saw him walking the road that day and although most had befriended him none waved their good-byes that day.Heading back to the tavern he watched as the local priests and various farm folk were carting out the bodies and making burial preperations.Ignoring them as he approached the scene he immediately picked up the trail of several horses and set off at once in their wake.For several weeks Boulder constantly hounded the band of killers.Several questions and comments from various people who had served or spoke with the killers gave Boulder more than enough information to go on.They were obviously very confident in themselves and brazen enough to not even hide the fact of who they were or where they were going.Teshwave.A single word gave Boulder a goal and destination.Skelter as he had come to know the killers leader by would pay for the murder of his friends.And the more "friends" he had with him the better.They would pay!

Slowly as the weeks went on and the rage subsided Boulder began thinking on how he would accomplish this goal.He wasn't very skilled in combat but every night before he went to bed he would practice with the waraxe he had taken with him from home.And every morning and night as his breakfast or dinner cooked he would sharpen it until it was so sharp he could shave with it.Knowing he must become one with the weapon in order to succeed he began seeking out caravans and asked if they might need a guard.Of course they were more than happy to have an able bodied dwarf counted among their ranks.Eventually he arrived in Daggerdale and upon hearing from several caravan members of the troubles that haunted the Dale from bandits to bugbears to the Zhentarim themselves, he knew Clangeddin had brought him there.Here he would make a name for himself.Here the Warshield name would be spoken with respect.Here he would build his legend, one beast at a time.Let Skelter hear of the dwarven hero who is known as Boulder Warshield and let him know fear when the axe of that dwarf begins searching for his heart.First and foremost he was a dwarf with an edict from his god.No more dwarves would suffer or die in the presence of Boulder if there was anything in his power he could do to stop it.A champion of his race, a hero of his clan, a protector of the settlement and community known as Dagger Falls, Boulder Warshield has come to claim his mantle of legend.And by Clangeddin he will have it or die trying!

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