The Eleventh Champion

[Dreek 1633]

 

A faint rustling is heard within the Ireheart Manor, a light bouncing off the walls as Drynn begins to wrap up a pile of papers. Padding over to the door, Drynn looks out, seeing if any of his kinsmen were about. Frowning in disappointment, he walks out into the main hall, headed for the hall of the remembrancers. Once there, he shakes one of the clerks away, handing him the collection of stories he had written, “Aye lad, dis beh un ov meh storehs, tu record da cloimb an toime roite afteh da tournament. Ah ‘ope ye kun foind ah playce fer et an da loibrareh.”

 

The Eleventh Champion

 

Descended from a generation of heroes, Drynn Ireheart knew that he had a steep hill to climb. He lived his first 25 years under the wings of his father and his brothers, learning the basics of combat and Dwarven culture. He then departed from the Dwarven cities, spending his next century alone in the wilderness, honing his body and mind. He grew up this way, accumulating both maturity and strength. When he reached a hundred and twenty five, Drynn began to visit the Dwarven libraries, relearning his ancestry and who his closest brethren was. Finding Bastion, Drynn journeyed out to the far lands of the wilderness, and collected his belongings, planning to return to the city of Kal’Agnar, and rejoin Dwarven society.

 

Once he had arrived in the city, Drynn met his cousin Bastion, and was allowed a room with the Ireheart Manor, sharing the house with Bastion. Many a stone day passed, with Bastion helping Drynn to reacquaint himself with Dwarven customs, society, and current events. However, soon after he arrived a tournament was announced for the Grand Champion of the Dwarves. Thinking himself a worthy competitor, Drynn signed himself up as one of only two Irehearts, the other being Bastion.

 

When the day of the tourney arrived, Drynn saw how filled the city had become, festivities and merchants swarmed the market square, all types of drink and food were passed around. Drynn had never seen so much extravagant food. He slowly made his way to the arena, gazing at the fighters getting ready. Making eye contact with Bastion, he nodded, as they both made their way towards their seats.

 

The Tournament

 

 

Spoiler

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FVQupjokHZg&feature=youtu.be

(Filmed by lordbobby)

 

The first fight seemed to send the crowd into an uproar, the upset of Eochan Irongut defeating Vorstag II Oathcast. Drynn’s fight was next, and he grew confident by the minute, the crowd calling his name, overwhelming the cheers for his opponent. Drynn tensed his muscles, tightening his grip around his stone sword, ready to leap. The minute the word”Gu” resounded around the arena, Drynn sprang forward, lashing his sword against his opponent’s head, taking only two blows before he knocked his opponent to the floor. Standing victorious, Drynn stood grinning, offering a hand to his kinsman. Gaining confidence, Drynn strode back to the stands, giving a high five to Bastion.

 

The tournament continued with great success, Drynn continued his fighting until he reached the semifinals. A short break was allowed then, and the four fighters were shown together to the crowd, Aleksis Grandaxe was to face Bastion Ireheart, and Skippy Irongut was to face Drynn Ireheart. With the short break ending, Drynn spoke briefly with Bastion, wishing him good luck, and the both of them hoping for an all Ireheart final. Shortly later, Aleksis was lying face down in the arena, Bastion standing victorious over him, grinning from ear to ear. Roaring his name in glee, Drynn ran to his cousin, clapping him on the back for his achievement for reaching the finals. However, his turn was still yet to begin.

Drynn approached the gates leading to the arena, gazing across the stony field to where Skippy was preparing. Looking up he gave a quick nod to Bastion, before gazing back down and tightening his grip on his stone sword. Again, the word ”Gu” resounded across the domed room, sending both competitors in a dash forward. Their swords met in midair, Drynn’s dropping first and allowing Skippy the first hit. However, Drynn had dropped his intentionally, bringing his around into a quick flurry of hits, battering Skippy back until he lay upon the floor, covered in sweat and bruises emerging, Drynn stood victorious once again.

 

It was an Ireheart’s dream. They had been guaranteed a Grand Champion, Drynn was to fight Bastion in the finals.

 

Standing at opposite ends of the arena, Drynn gave a quick nod to his cousin, offering a small smile. The bells rung, and the two fighters engaged. For Drynn, none of his previous fights could compare to what he was facing now. Yet he knew deep inside him, he had the upper hand. Just as he was thinking this, Drynn was knocked into a pool of water, barely managing to recover. Feeling around him for a quick few seconds, Drynn lashed out, scoring hits on vital areas. All too soon was the fight finished, with Drynn standing proud, his cousin firmly placed on the ground. With a small wave and a grin, Drynn offered Bastion his hand, pulling him up for a slap on the back, accompanied with a round of praise.

 

When it all looked to be over, Grand King Balek leaped into the arena himself, challenging Drynn to a duel for a most prestigious position, that of the King’s Guard. readying himself, Drynn spun on his heels to slowly make his way back to his side of the arena. After having shifted around his armor and sword, Drynn stood at the ready, watching Balek’s moves. A horn rang out around the arena as spectators cheered the two fighters on. Drynn, feeling confident from his last fight, battered Balek against the rocky walls, pinning him there, before laying into him with the pommel of his sword. Unexpectedly, Balek pushed Drynn back with a last bit of strength, scoring a few vital hits upon him, before he was struck down by a well placed strike to the side.

 

There he stood, a Dwarf just returned to society, and already a champion within his kingdom. Drynn received the champion’s armor, and donned the King’s guard attire. For he had begun his path, to earn the pride and joy from his father’s spirit.

 

 

 

The days passed on, Drynn watched and occasionally participated in the Legion trainings. He noted however, the urgency and sense of duty that appeared on every dwarf’s face. The day was approaching for when the Orenian army would be on their doorstep. Last minute alliances were being negotiated by Courtiers, hastily constructed defenses put up, and legionnaires trained to aim for the ankles.

For Drynn however, a new challenge presented itself. After winning the tournament, Bastion had approached him with a challenge. He was to undertake the Ireheart trials, to ascend with the true name and duty of the clan. Excited, Drynn ventured out of the city on his own, looking for potential combatants on whom he could test his strength. Within just one Elven week, he had completed his trials with the three orc skins(light green, dark green, and red), three elf ears, and a slab of bark from a druid’s tree. Upon being congratulated, the induction began within the shrine of Dungrimm, it’s inhabitants gathered around the statue of their favored god. The torches were darkened as Bastion brought forward their sacred relic, dragon bone knife. The knife slowly slid down the skin of his palms, cutting a 2-inch long cut. Drynn’s blood flowed freely, before being pressed against Bastion’s, sharing the blood of the Ireheart. He had gained his name, the true name of an Ireheart, and his heritage from his father Dreek was acknowledged by the clan.

 

After exploring the clan’s records, Drynn found himself as the sole heir of his father’s relics. He had been the first of Dreek’s sons to complete the trials and the first in the line to obtain a prominent role within the kingdom. He discussed the issue with Bastion, quickly gaining his approval of the heritage. Delighted, Drynn opened up the sealed chest of Dreek’s relics, obtaining his sacred armor. The original Gutbuster plate mail, destined to be passed down through Dreek’s line. Acknowledging his role in the upcoming battle, Drynn began to train with the armor, learning how to utilize it;s unique fighting style.

 

The Fires of War

 

Spoiler

 

The booming and creaking from the forges and siege engines resounded around the Dwarven Valley, forcing Drynn to spend much of his time within his room or the library. He spent much of his time researching and training, preparing his special design for the defense of his home. The days passed by slowly, leaving Drynn feeling more and more confident about his preparations.

 

The Day had come, but the armies had not. Disappointed, yet still relieved, Drynn began to deconstruct the siege engines, alongside his kinsmen. The day passed slowly, without much event. Night soon fell over the valley of ruins however, and the wolves came out. Horns blew in the middle of the night, Orenian regiments were rushing up the valley, headed straight for the city. Leaping to the aid of his kinsmen, Drynn rallied out alongside his fellow kings guard, ready to skirmish and delay the advancement of the Orenians. Almost too soon did they realize that the Orenians had changed. They had adopted the idea of mounted combat, and were soon running circles around the Dwarven mountain ponies. Scrambling back to the city as fast as they could, the kings guard all managed to get away, only with the assistance of the Legion’s archers.

Rallying together, Drynn sallied out to assist those who had rushed into the maw of the Vladov cavalry. Leaping into the fray, Drynn managed to save the life of his cousin, and slay a foot soldier. Yet the battle was far from equal, again the Dwarves were forced to retreat back to their defenses. Growing tired of the back and forth, Drynn tied up his steed and ran over to a side tower, ready to assist his Grandaxe kinsmen who were raining flaming arrows upon the cavalry. Soon, his arrow hit the mark he desired. The leading Vladov skirmisher fell, his horse dead from Drynn’s crossbow. Giving a hearty cheer, he continued to rain hell onto the Oren forces.

 

The hours drained on however, exhausting the manpower and relics of both forces, only ending with a bitter stalemate. Dwarven legions moved out and collected their fallen, while the Orenian forces fell back from the mountains. Peace descended down once again, as the fighting winded down to a period of stalling. Drynn capitalized, taking this time to build his stores of weapons and armor back up. He knew though, the day would come once again, when the scourge was to invade his precious valley once again.

 

 

 

 

Days passed on peacefully, the flames of conflict had died down, leaving the Dwarven valley in a temporary state of peace. Drynn spent his days trekking around the mountains, discovering its secrets and treasures for himself. He learned of the old grave of the Khordvadic Emperor, the caves of ice, the abandoned spider nests, and best of all he found a spot of quiet. His sanctuary, untouched by the fires of war, the corruption of the undead, or the mechanized Dwarven life. A place of peace and quiet, one where he could just sit and think. Drynn spent long hours, many days a week just sitting within this cave. He thought about both the future and the present. Slowly, he began to seclude himself again from his brethren, only offering a few words to his fellow kings guard. He knew not why he had encouraged himself to be this way, but alone he felt as he was whole again. A piece of his past, he called it.

[Bobby123 115]

((First fools, i made the vid btw))

[Ford 1996]

((gd!

[The Dennis 172]

((Well written, good to see some fine dwarven roleplay and not iPhone frostbeard))

[InfamousGerman 1553]

((Good read, friendo.

[James 425]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.