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post #1 of 9 (permalink) Old 01-09-09, 02:32 PM Thread Starter
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Default Throndil Stonebreaker

Throndil was once a prominent member of one of the Stonemason guilds of Karak Kadrin. While overseeing a party constructing a new brewery vault, the stone of the roof shattered and came down, crushing dozens of workers. The collapse also caused the chamber above the vault to cave in as well, killing several more Dwarfs. The ensuing investigation found that Throndil had overlooked a fatal flaw in the slab to be used as the domed roof's keystone, causing it to shatter under the stress. Upon the discovery of the flaw, Throndil took the Slayer Oath at the Shrine of Grimnir and left the hold to seek his doom.

In the following years Throndil returned to Karak Kadrin to pray to Grimnir for a worthy opponent many times. On one such occasion he was traveling back to the hold when he came upon a small party of Dwarfs coming from Zhufbar being attacked by a large band of Orcs. Throndil waded in and began hewing Orcs as if they were tall grass, until he faced the Orcs leader, a very large and brutish Black Orc. Throndil wasted no time in attacking the Orc. After several long minutes of combat, Throndils axe lay broken beneath the boot of the beast. Though wounded the Black Orc sensed victory and swung down wildly, sticking it's choppa deep into the ground. Dodging quickly aside, Throndil leapt at the beast and throttled it to death bare handed. In the aftermath a full 20 Orcs lay strewn about him, along with the Black Orc leader. He escorted the traders to their destination of Karak Kadrin, and while praying at the Shrine, the priests gifted Throndil with a rune axe from the Shrines vaults as his own weapon had been destroyed, and for saving the trading party.

****Necromancers Stone Addition****

Upon leaving the Shrine after the slaying of the Black Orc, Throndil headed southwest toward the cursed lands of Sylvania. There to find one of the fabled Vampire Counts, or some suitable beast for the slaying, or dieing. He encountered a small ruin, not much more than a fortified tower and great hall, in the foothills to the north of the Coffin Wood.

Throndil entered, knowing the dark creatures of this land were drawn to places like these, as moths to flame. A brief search uncovered a hidden stairwell leading down into what appeared to be a naturally occurring cave. At the back a large stone door was set into the wall with time worn and ancient manling writing etched into it, along with ancient and barely legible Dwarf runes. He could feel the power of the manling scribbles and the runes, but they felt wrong. Running his gnarled fingers across them he spoke to himself out of habit, "Here lies Arnvast Rodel, a King of Men. May his name be forever recorded as Dwarf friend." At these words the stone door opened, revealing a very ancient and very dead warrior standing in the threshold, an unearthly chill emanating from the armor clad bones.

Throndil wasted no time and attacked the Wight King, his first swing nearly missed, merely clipping one of the many ancient tokens from the wights belt. This landed directly at Throndils feet, which he saw was a small and ancient rune covered ancestor badge carved of black stone. As he glanced down the wight attacked, and in his fascination with the badge he was nearly cut down. He returned to the fight in earnest. The two traded blows for nearly two hours with neither gaining the upper hand, though fatigue was beginning to slow Throndil, until the wight scored a lucky blow deep into Throndil's chest. As he sank to his knees his hand found the small stone badge on the floor and closed around it. Throndil spoke one last thing as his visioned dimmed, "Arnvast Rodel, I name thee Oathbreaker." Then saw nothing more.

Throndil awoke sometime later, how long he couldn't guess, but darkness had come. Of his wounds, there was nothing but blue-white scars that were strangely cold to the touch. He searched the ruins but could find no trace of the wight. The memory of the final moments before his vision faded, were of the wight canting his head as though listening to someone, then leaving as if compelled. Standing upon the threshold of the ruin Throndil spoke to the night. "We will meet again Arnvast Oathbreaker. And when we do I'll put you back in your stinking crypt for good." With that he tied the small ancestor stone into his pony-tail and left.

****End of Addition****

For many more years would Throndil return to the Shrine of Grimnir to pray for a proper doom. Until his last visit, when he received a vision of great single combats being waged in the manling city of Tilea, between great champions. Here perhaps, was his doom.

Perhaps...

Organized people are simply too lazy to look for things.

Some of my Warhammer fantasy fluff. Give it a go whydontcha.
Throndil Stonebreaker.
Arnvast the Fellhanded.

Last edited by Locust; 01-11-09 at 04:55 PM.
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post #2 of 9 (permalink) Old 01-09-09, 03:54 PM
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Nice fluff Locust, looks like Snikrat has a proper enemy at last! You will be pleased to know that Thondril is the lucky owner of a Necromancer's Stone. I have added it to his Character Details, feel free to work it in to his fluff if you want to.
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post #3 of 9 (permalink) Old 01-11-09, 04:51 PM Thread Starter
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Default Necromancers stone origin.

Upon leaving the Shrine after the slaying of the Black Orc, Throndil headed southwest toward the cursed lands of Sylvania. There to find one of the fabled Vampire Counts, or some suitable beast for the slaying, or dieing. He encountered a small ruin, not much more than a fortified tower and great hall, in the foothills to the north of the Coffin Wood.

Throndil entered, knowing the dark creatures of this land were drawn to places like these, as moths to flame. A brief search uncovered a hidden stairwell leading down into what appeared to be a naturally occurring cave. At the back a large stone door was set into the wall with time worn and ancient manling writing etched into it, along with ancient and barely legible Dwarf runes. He could feel the power of the manling scribbles and the runes, but they felt wrong. Running his gnarled fingers across them he spoke to himself out of habit, "Here lies Arnvast Rodel, a King of Men. May his name be forever recorded as Dwarf friend." At these words the stone door opened, revealing a very ancient and very dead warrior standing in the threshold, an unearthly chill emanating from the armor clad bones.

Throndil wasted no time and attacked the Wight King, his first swing nearly missed, merely clipping one of the many ancient tokens from the wights belt. This landed directly at Throndils feet, which he saw was a small and ancient rune covered ancestor badge carved of black stone. As he glanced down the wight attacked, and in his fascination with the badge he was nearly cut down. He returned to the fight in earnest. The two traded blows for nearly two hours with neither gaining the upper hand, though fatigue was beginning to slow Throndil, until the wight scored a lucky blow deep into Throndil's chest. As he sank to his knees his hand found the small stone badge on the floor and closed around it. Throndil spoke one last thing as his visioned dimmed, "Arnvast Rodel, I name thee Oathbreaker." Then saw nothing more.

Throndil awoke sometime later, how long he couldn't guess, but darkness had come. Of his wounds, there was nothing but blue-white scars that were strangely cold to the touch. He searched the ruins but could find no trace of the wight. The memory of the final moments before his vision faded, were of the wight canting his head as though listening to someone, then leaving as if compelled. Standing upon the threshold of the ruin Throndil spoke to the night. "We will meet again Arnvast Oathbreaker. And when we do I'll put you back in your stinking crypt for good." With that he tied the small ancestor stone into his pony-tail and left.

Organized people are simply too lazy to look for things.

Some of my Warhammer fantasy fluff. Give it a go whydontcha.
Throndil Stonebreaker.
Arnvast the Fellhanded.
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post #4 of 9 (permalink) Old 01-14-09, 11:39 AM Thread Starter
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Default The Aftermath.

Throndil awoke to find himself on the bank of very swift river. Standing, he noticed his axe and his gold were missing. More importantly, his beard was unkempt with small bits missing where the gold badges had been hastily removed. "THIEVING MANLINGS!!!!!!" Throndil bellowed back towards the city. "You'll pay for the theft of my axe! You'll pay for the theft of my gold! And you'll pay for my BEARD!!!" With this declaration he stalked back to the city.

At the gate, a watch sergeant said to one of his fellows, "Look, the stuntie came back. Guess they can't be all that tough. Never seen someone beaten so fast by an Elf." At this they both started laughing, as the sergeant poked Throndil with the butt of his spear. He snatched the spear from the surprised guard and snapped the thick shaft as though it were a toothpick. Moving before the guards could react he grabbed the sergeants breastplate and pulled him down face to face. "Where are my axe and gold?" Throndil demanded in a low growl. "puh..p.. probably on the way from the arena to the treasury building. The big one near the palace." At this Throndil smiled coldly. "Good. I'll have back what is mine." Delivering a vicious headbutt to the sergeant Throndil cast him aside and glared at the other guards, as though daring them to try and stop him. No one made any move to stop him as he stomped through the gates, though as he did so, he could hear the crowd roaring from the arena. Another bout was in progress.

Hurrying through the city, shouldering aside those too slow or dimwitted enough to get out of his way, Throndil came upon a small cart being escorted by three of the Princes guards. In the back of the cart he could see what looked to be several large chests under a canvas tarp. Rushing forward he struck the nearest guard senseless with the spear butt that, until now he had forgotten he was carrying. As the man fell Throndil hurled the wooden shaft at the carts driver, knocking him to the ground. As he did this the second guard attacked. Throndil ducked the clumsy spear thrust, grabbed the weapon and pulled the guard towards him, delivering a blow to the manlings groin, doubling him over in pain. Rising, Throndil turned on the last guard, an obvious new recruit, that stood stock still, taking in the squat tattooed figure and the two bodies next to him. After a moments hesitation the guard dropped his spear and ran off, deeper into the city.

A quick search of the guards produced the keys for the chests. Opening them Throndil managed to find his axe and his bracelets along with several other weapons and other items. These other things seemed to be from several races, but they meant nothing to him. After locking the chests again, he was no thieving manling after all, he woke the unconscious guard and driver. "I have taken back what was stolen from me. If anyone dares to take issue with what I've done, they can meet me in the arena. Let this be a lesson that if you plan to steal from a Slayer, make sure that he's good and dead first. Now continue on before some other thieving manling decides to steal your cart. I'm not done in this city yet." After delivering his message, he stalked off in the direction of the arena. Those he passed could her mutterings of vengeance against the arena body dumpers, and shuddered, glad it wasn't them.

Organized people are simply too lazy to look for things.

Some of my Warhammer fantasy fluff. Give it a go whydontcha.
Throndil Stonebreaker.
Arnvast the Fellhanded.
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post #5 of 9 (permalink) Old 01-14-09, 02:24 PM
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Hah! Bloody fantastic. Dwarfish through and through. I can just picture the naked, sopping wet, mohawked Dwarf with an axe clutched in his fist trudging along the city's main thoroughfares, muttering and swearing in a mishmashed pidgin of Mannish and Khazalid. Almost makes me wish I was running a Dwarf myself.

'Course, there's something to be said for twelve foot tall killing machines...

Four Colditz salads and a Hermann Goering.
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post #6 of 9 (permalink) Old 01-14-09, 02:54 PM
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As opposed to two foot killing machines =D.

Excellent read - was a joy, Locust.



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post #7 of 9 (permalink) Old 01-14-09, 03:45 PM
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I really liked it, +rep for you buddy.

Quote:
Originally Posted by Grik View Post
Does his pompous ass Lordship even remember how to close his fist? I mean other than around a haunch of meat. You have taxed me for the last time sire!
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post #8 of 9 (permalink) Old 01-14-09, 03:49 PM
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Thoroughly enjoyable read Locust, I particularly enjoyed that you decided to take a Dwarven approach to the matter of missing gear!
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post #9 of 9 (permalink) Old 01-14-09, 04:42 PM Thread Starter
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Thanks all. I was wracking my brain for hours to figure out how to get his equipment back. I couldn't have him "send home for cash" to buy it back from the prince, nor did it seem reasonable that the prince would give it back if asked politely. Besides, any Dwarf who spent gold to buy back items stolen from him needs to shave his head and take the Slayer's Oath. And since Throndil had already done that, a new option was needed. My early ideas all ended with him storming in to demand the prince return the equipment and ultimately getting killed by a pile of guards. But eventually I hit on the key and I have you to thank for it squeek. It was in the beginning of the fight between Snikrat and Ceyla, where you described the prince was mentally tallying the gold he had earned, when I recalled that all of a fighters possessions were stripped off and that in my description I was waring a pile of gold. So squeek, if it hadn't been for that fine description of an avaricious prince, Throndil would probably not be around for further grudge matches.

For that, I thank you. Nicely done.

Organized people are simply too lazy to look for things.

Some of my Warhammer fantasy fluff. Give it a go whydontcha.
Throndil Stonebreaker.
Arnvast the Fellhanded.
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