A 'Winters Twilight' story

[Armitage]

This story is content taken from 'Winters Twilight'. A MMORPG in production at the moment by Pixel Bridge Ltd. Let me know what you think? Part 2 coming soon...

Dwarven Kings through the ages have come to power through brave deeds and the support of the Dwarven warrior cast. Many a Dwarf has successfully navigated to the dark depths of the Underrealm but come back empty handed. The prize of a Klumtags Scale or a Frumian Beetles claw is becoming rarer and rarer. The dark beasts in the deepdownbelow are becoming more wary, more devious, more cunning and above all more resilient to the tactics of a stumbling Dwarf. As a Dwarf reaches maturity it has already had training with its trademark axe. The story's of glorious battles and the heroes of the Dwarven realm have been regaled to every Dwarfling like propaganda spread through a war torn Country. The Dwarf from a young age is constantly preparing for his right of passage, the part of their life where, if they survive, can join the ranks of the swelling Dwarven army and write their name in the history books of the great Dwarven civilisation.

Perhaps the greatest of Kings the Dwarven realm has ever seen was the Great Erenief Gladfist.
Erenief was born to the Dwarven Scholar Eramin and the Captain of the 521st Dwarven Infantry Hirisfirth the bossy , who incidentally met when a Molten Wyrm burrowed its way through to the Hall of Heroes to find Eramin deep in thought over the loss of his 21st book of requisitions made for the Dwarven Auditory Authority. Hirisfirth had been tracking the Wyrm for days and arrived in the nick of time swinging her Mighty Cloven axe upon the Molten Wyrm and casting the creature to the cavern floor. Hirisfirth was becoming well known amongst the Dwarven hordes for her bravery and relentless anticipation for battle. Eramin however had led a quiet life thus far living in the shadows of his mentor, The keeper of the Great Hall, Wafrin the knowledgeable. He had rejected the physical trials of the deepdownbelow saying they were 'An unethical danger placed upon inexperienced shoulders' this had earn t Eramin most peoples contempt in Dwarven society. Slandering the ancient ways had not been the best career move for him. After a whirlwind romance (12 jugs of Dwarven ale) and many months later, a small Dwarfling male was born.

Erenief had inherited his mothers aggression and vigour in battle and his fathers impressive intellect. At the age of 5 his accuracy with the traditional throwing axe was unlike anyone had seen before and his knowledge of the Dwafrin Axe Kata's was unheard of for a Dwarf so young. Erenief spent most of his days training and studying in preparation for the ultimate test of strength and will, The Trials. His mother, Hirisfirth, had been preparing him since he was born, teaching him about the different beasts that lurked in the 'deepdownbelow'. Erenief always made his father tell the story about the infamous Spiked Dragon, a dragon so ferocious it didn't take to kindly to guests in its domain. It could smell Dwarves a mile away and would purposely hunt them down and grind their bones with its teeth (Eramin liked embellishing a little to scare Erenief to sleep)

On the eve of Erenief's 16th birthday he spent most of his day training and saying good bye to his family. With the expectation of glorious battle ahead of him, his meditations in the Hall of Heroes had been fruitless. He gracefully fell asleep at the carved rock feet of Deorth the wise.

The day had finally arrived, Erenief collected his provisions and made his way along the rocky pathway north of the Hall of Heroes. The path had been destroyed due to decay many years ago this led to the final drop off point, the place where Erenief would have to descend to the deepdownbelow. The descent was at least 3000 feet, Erenief would have to climb without the aid of a rope, fortunately this was something that Erenief had been training for all his life, his right of passage had finally arrived and he was more then up to the challenge. It took 3 days to make the descent to the cavern floor, each night Erenief would find a small ledge and drop off to sleep dreaming of his certain glory.

[Armitage]

As Erenief made his way through the rib cage of a long-dead Julopiath Scuig Mite he looked back at the massacre that lay behind him. Giant bones littered the cavern floor, ancient Dwarven armour and weapons had also dropped randomly, obviously from a fallen warrior failing to make the journey back to their homeland. He climbed over a skull of an unknown beast and slowly began the journey into the unknown. With only 6 days that passed, Erenief was making good time. He had already despatched a small Stinger Bug Imp that had wandered along his path and thought Erenief would be easy pickings. Despite this encounter, the vast cavern seemed surprisingly empty. Erenief needed a prise, something that proved him worthy of re-entering the Dwarven capitol and finally becoming an Elder. Erenief entered deeper and deeper into the cavern, picking up small trinkets as he went, loose gems from the cavern walls and Dragon teeth from ancient skeletons that had perished at the hands of his comrades.

Another six days had passed with nothing, but on the day of 'Walfroks Fall', the day where all Dwarves of the warrior cast celebrate the rise to power of their once great fearsome general, a hungry Drakeling had wandered through the valley and stumbled into Erenief's trap. The small trip line had been snapped and a giant boulder had fallen and crushed the Drakeling to the ground. Erenief jumped into action, slicing through the incapacitated creatures jugular killing it instantly. A Drakeling in dwarven society was barely considered to be a worthy kill, in fact, Walfrok was supposed to have had one as a pet!
As Erenief severed his trophy of a Drakeling heart from the beast, he heard loose gravel drifting down a cliff face behind him. As he turned around, what looked like a shadow swept down and knocked his Axe out of his hand and sent him falling to the ground. Erenief scrambled to his feet and as he looked up, perched on the side of a huge ledge, was a fabled Spiked Elder Dragon. This giant beast must have smelt the blood of the fallen Drakeling and flew in to pick at the remains in this harsh desolate waste ground of the deepdownbelow.
Erenief was without his cloven axe that he had trained with since he was a small dwarfling but this did not mean he was defenceless. With guile and cunning he ducked under the talons of the Elder dragons next attack and rolled next to a Broadsword that had been dropped probably by the Elder Dragons last meal. With a mighty swing of his arm he threw the broadsword hurtling through the air at the beast resting on top of the Drakeling's lifeless body. As the sword pierced the dragons eye it let out a piercing cry that echoed throughout the cavern. The Ancient beast fell to the ground with an almighty crash that rippled through the cavern shaking the ground as it went. Erenief had faced a Fabled beast that in many dwarven scriptures had wiped out entire villages of Dwarves in the ancient days. The infamous dragons Spiked Horn mounted on its scaly head lay sticking in the air, as Erenief went in for a closer observation he saw the horn had many scrapes and stains, obviously from previous battles fought. With a sharp withdrawing motion he ripped the broadsword from within the Dragon and slowly began to remove the horn