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The Complete Tale Of Grabthar Ironclaw


Grabthar
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  In The Beginning...
 
 
   The life of Grabthar Ironclaw began as so many in the land of Aegis did, in the dark. Born to a poor Halfling mother in a run down hut in the wild lands, there was no celebration or fanfare upon his entering the world. Only the smile of a mother, and the cries of a half Dwarven child.
 
   Life was difficult during Grabthar's early years, he had no father in his home, so all the difficult work fell to his older brother Dranthul, who was only 6 when Grabthar was born. Though 6 was still considered a child, in this place it was old enough to scavenge for supplies and hunt for food. Dranthul being the "man" of the house at such a young age gave him a self entitlement that effected young Grabthar tremendously. Grabthar was forced to call his older brother sir at all times, creating a habit that sits with Grabthar to this day. 
 
   Just before Grabthar's 10th birthday, shadows came upon their hut in the night. Through the windows Grabthar watched as the garden turned to red stone and burst into flame. The windows of the hut exploded and the door was blown off it's hinges. In a swirl of darkness Grabthar's mother was gone, pulled from him, screaming, into the night. Left now only to his elder brother's devices, Grabthar became nothing more than a slave. Cleaning, cooking, farming, mending, Grabthar filled all the rolls of the house save hunting. He was left to himself many days as his brother disappeared into the woods to find live food, and during these times Grabthar was grateful. He began to imagine a better world, a world where he wasn't yelled at, where he wasn't looked down upon, where he wasn't hit. 
 
   Many years passed, the stress of this time was too much for young Grabthar's mind to handle and his perspective began to slip. He was no longer just Grabthar Ironclaw, he was also the cook... and the farmer... and the host... and the butler. "Fetch some water Mr Grabthar." "Tend the horses Mr Grabthar." "Sweep out the foyer Mr Grabthar." Referring to himself by name made him feel important, like he had a purpose in this world that seemed to hate him. Why did it hate him? Why was his brother so cruel? Why was his mother gone? Grabthar began to ask about his father. He had never known him... but his brother had.
 
   "Shut it and bring me more food." Was always the response he would get from Dranthul, "I should leave you just like he did." Grabthar tried on many occasions over the years to coax any information from his brother, but never got anything of use. He knew he was a Dwarf, he knew he was from a far off land, but could gather nothing else with his questions. One day while mending some broken boards in the kitchen, he found a small chest hidden inside the floor. It was old and battered but had no lock. Grabthar slid back the top to find a large green helmet with the horns of some beast attached to the sides. It was far too large for Grabthar's head. Inside the helm were various small trinkets, a broken compass, flint & steel, and a note:
 
 
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   Grabthar's eyes filled with tears. All this time it had been right here. The answer to where his father was... to why he had left. Why was it kept from him? Did his brother put it here... or his mom? Why? In an instant Grabthar was out the door with the items in his hands and the helm upon his head. He ran at first, through trees and bushes, over rocks and streams, running as fast as his feet would carry him. For an hour he ran with no idea which direction he was going, but still he ran. Towards the sun... towards the closest road... towards his father.
 
   For 3 days Grabthar ran, stopping to sleep only when the darkness made it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of him. Stopping for rest only when his mouth was so dry that he couldn't breath. He had passed many streams and rivers, but no roads. No people. On this day he realized just how hungry he was. He had not eaten since he left his home. His stomach rumbled and he nearly doubled over from it. He had forgotten to bring anything with him, no food, no tools, no supplies of any kind. He began to search the nearby trees and bushes for fruit but found none. He had not seen any animals for hours, though he wouldn't know what to do with them if he did find them. His brother was the hunter not him. Then he thought of his brother. What would Dranthul do when he returned home to find the door sitting open and Grabthar gone. Would he worry? No. He would be angry. Angry that Grabthar had wandered off. Angry that Grabthar didn't have dinner ready. Just angry. 
 
Grabthar sat upon the bank of a nearby stream to steady himself and catch his breath. He heard the crack of a branch not too far off through the brush. As he crept through the trees, he spotted a patch of pink rush through the underbrush. He heard muttering. Then the skies opened up, and an arc of white hot lightning burst from the heavens and struck down the swine. Grabthar fell back from the blast but quickly regained his feet. Where once stood a pig, now lay a pile of charred meat. Through the trees then stepped a hooded figure. He descended upon the carcass and gathered up all that would fit in his satchel. Then just as quickly, disappeared back into the forest, leaving behind scorched earth and flaming trees. Though scared to make noise that would bring the man back, Grabthar hurried over to quell the fire. While doing so a single apple fell from the high boughs of the tree. Grabthar put out the flames and snatched up the fruit. At least it was food, and now he new he could at least find something to eat. Grabthar spent days doing this, running towards the sun, gathering fruit from trees, and resting near rivers, but not once did he encounter another person.
 
Days slipped into weeks, weeks into months, and Grabthar was slowly withering away. He was lost... always hungry... and losing hope that he would ever find the Dwarven capital. Then it happened. Just after twilight, as he climbed a tree to get some sleep for the night, the creature dropped from a branch above and attacked. Grabthar fell from the tree and landed with a thud on the ground below. He was hurt, hurt badly, and could not move his left leg. Creeping down the tree was a huge black mass, the largest spider Grabthar had ever seen, and it was coming right for him. Grabthar wanted to back away but was frozen with terror. Then it lunged.
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Brotherhood of the Flame
 
 
Grabthar's eyes fluttered. Strange images flashed before him. Smooth white walls. Fire. Water. Soothing chimes echoed in his ears. Where was he? Grabthar struggled to regain his feet only to find his wounds were gone. Wait. What wounds? As fast as they came, the memories of the broken leg disappeared. There had been no tree. There had been no spider. What was happening to him?
 
Grabthar blinked and before him stood a staircase. carved from the same smooth sandstone. He made to follow it and noticed how easy the steps came. He felt light and healthy. His stomach was full and his arms were strong. His bag... where was his backpack? The helmet still sat upon his head, but everything else was gone. In a rush Grabthar ran up the last flight of steps and stopped. Before him lay a strange land. Buildings, roads, people. Smiling, Grabthar rushed ahead to ask questions. "Follow the King's Road!" they said. "Then make a left and you can't miss it." Grabthar's head spun. He was so close. Off he ran down the road, dreams of things to come filling his mind as he went. 
 
Soon the people became sparse. There were no more shops dotting the sides of the road. He had nothing to eat and all the running had worn him down and emptied his stomach quickly. Grabthar stumbled around a corner, ready to collapse, and saw a small wooden building sitting at a fork in the road. Signs around the hut read "Free Food and Tools Inside" Grabthar smiled as he entered Ark's End.
 
At the time it didn't seem like much. A few stone tools, a bowl of soup, a few hours of talking to the innkeeper. All minor items in the grand scheme of things, but this kindness, kindness that Grabthar had never experienced before, it would mold him into the man he wanted to be. Grabthar left Ark's End with a new backpack filled with bread and meat, a mining pick and a wooden shovel. He also new exactly how to find the capital city of Kal'Urguan and nothing was going to stop him, and 3 days later Grabthar walked through the front gates.
 
The City was glorious. Stone pillars and statues. Fields of wheat as far as the eye could see. Dwarves milling about, all seemed to be hard at work doing something. Grabthar made his way through the capital, under the towering stone cliffs, and down the long staircase to Inner Kal'Urguan. This new world was so full of life... and dwarves. Grabthar's heart was happy. For so long all he wanted was to see others like him. He truly felt that he would find his father before the sun set once more, but that's not how this story goes.
 
Grabthar searched the halls... the fields... he checked all the districts of the great capital, talking to every dwarf he saw. The small dwarf built a small house near the walls of Kal'Urguan, and everyday would walk the streets and paths looking for anyone that had heard of Bryyn Irongut to no success. There were many Ironguts... but not his father. Over time the excitement of the city was lost to Grabthar. He focused on his home, building additions, tending a small underground farm, even polishing his cooking abilities. Soon his small home was rather large. that's when the first one came. A lone traveller, walking the White Road out of Kal'Urguan, knocked on his door one evening just as the sun was passing over the trees. He was hungry and tired, and Grabthar had just the remedy for these ails. He whipped up some soup, and a chunk of fresh baked bread and sat with the man by the fire into the late hours of the night. They talked of many things going on in the lands of Aegis, and soon the man wandered down the hall to the spare bedroom. The next morning when Grabthar woke he found an envelope near the mantle with a scribbled thank you note and a few minas inside. Grabthar's heart was glad again.
 
He immediately went to work on a second floor of his house, adding two... then three bedrooms upstairs. He Widened the living area so he could build an immense fireplace with plenty of seating around it. He built a bar... and several tables... and upgraded his kitchen so he could feed anyone that arrived. The visitors, who at first trickled in, began to arrive everyday. Sometimes alone, other times in large groups. Grabthar always had plenty of room and food to make them happy. He never charged. His payment was from the smiles that stretched across the faces of those that he helped. His once small farm grew and grew until it filled a huge cavern beneath his backyard. 
 
Then one warm afternoon, a familiar face showed up on Grabthar's doorstep. It was Ark, from the inn he had stayed at months before. They talked of many things and laughed well into the night before Ark told Grabthar that he had seen and heard tales of the humble lodge on the White Road. He brought Grabthar a single white candle, whose flame was enchanted to never go out. It signified that so long as it's light burned, this home would be open to weary travelers who needed shelter. There were only two candles created in Aegis, Ark kept the other at his inn. Grabthar placed the candle in a holder near his sitting room with a small sign that read, "All are welcomed, by the Brotherhood of the Flame."
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Love it,

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((added the second chapter... enjoy))

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{{Fancy, I enjoyed reading it.}}

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