An Unmarked Grave For Leena Axegrinder

[MunroWood 1]

The black dirt under his fingernails was comforting. Tears still streamed down his face, cold in the crisp morning air. The sun was just coming up and filtering weakly through the trees. Fimund Axegrinder didn't even have the right tools to make a proper gravestone. All he had was a small block of pale, unmarked granite. He wanted to scratch her name on the stone. "Leena." But his tools were no match for the dense stone.

 

His mother was dead, he had to get used to that fact. He would never hear her tinkling laughter again. Rage began to burn through him as the bright sunlight burned through the morning mists. This was all his father's fault. Jormund Axegrinder, a man with even less honor than his father before him. And Holl Axegrinder had been cut off from his clan for kinslaying. But in Fimund's opinion, Jormund's crime had been even worse. He had never been willing to sacrifice his own foolish ambitions to take care of his family; even at this moment, he was miles away, trying his hand at yet another get-rich scheme. His wife had perished, taken by Ki'katta at the young age of 304, and he wasn't even there. It was an outrage.

 

With tears flowing freely down his dirt-stained face, Fimund turned away from his mother's tiny grave and wiped his hands on his tattered clothes. The Cloud Temple lay a short distance away. There had been no help for him there.

 

Where now? He would head south into Dwarven lands. It was time for him to make his own path. It was the only way to honor Leena's memory....

[ARCHITECUS 4788]

((You're a good writer.))

[meg 1994]

((This is a very wonderful RP post, welcome to the server!))

[MunroWood 1]

((Thanks for the compliments. I am very excited to join your adventure.))

 

In a sort of daze, Fimund made his way back into the Dwarven lands. But the sight of his old home proved very difficult. He walked silently through uncaring crowds in the massive caverns of Kal'Azgoth, but the open sky beckoned to him.

 

"It be too stuffy in these dank halls," he said to himself. "I needs fresh air."

 

That very night, he packed his few belongings and headed for the dock leading to the Wilds. He wanted to get as far away from his past as possible, but who could say if the fresh pain of loss would follow him there? He slept through the journey, emerging one morning onto the docks outside Kal'halla, eager to find distraction in some hard work.

[Moot 1719]

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