Togren
04-20-2006, 07:35 PM
Let me say, first off when I grew up in Mercia, I always noticed something funny about my family, when ever I looked at them; my eyes came level about as high as their bellybutton. Which was okay to me I guess, my father though, he was a man of might. My eyes would come about the middle of his thigh. He was a tall man, but me I got my height from my mother. She was the only one I ever saw eye level.
Then it hit me, I'm not human. I'm a dwarf! It's okay though, any one who ever stood taller then me, I could still punch them square in the nose, because I would always manage to put them down with a shoulder block to the back of their knee. My father said I could really never tell my own height, so accasionally I'll say I'm alot taller than what I am. I add an extra foot and an inch on. But it took me twenty six years and soberness to figure that out.
I would walk out of another Kingdom and into the woods, from here I'd venture into the land of the Wessex, what a marvelous place indeed. I'd soon make my way across it, into another local pub. Here I would talk with the Sheriff of Wessex, a good man, but I can say the ale here isn't strong enough for a man like me. I would be on my way.
Then I would run into a fool of a priest. Merrin of the Red Order, what a Priest he be. Some words to be exchanged and before I knew it, I had a fire under my arse! He would cast White Fire, not any orderinary fire, but this was a holy fire. Chasing me out of Wessex, and back into the wilderness.
I would wander far, yet again chaotically in no general direction. Until I met with a man, that I finally could see eye to eye with. Now I haven't seen another man of me, ever. However this man I would see eye to eye. His name was Surly Spitforge, well I would be damned if I ever saw a man as fierce, thick, and broad as myself!
To my knowledge, there was one great nation of Dwarf men, the Anvil. Way in the lands of Dordukr, the land of where the most fierce and large Dwarfs come from, I'm not talking men of ale. I'm talking men more thick then Mahirim and more fierce then Tyrannosaurs.
Low and behold, I have found brethern, Surly was the High Thane of Society of the Anvil. We would walk back to the mountain in which my brethern live. The trek would take us thirty seven days of cold hell. More damnable than the Alfar, I haven't seen such snow. It was quite the pain too, trudging through snow, I was grateful that my clothing underneath me armor was warmer than spring.
Soon we would arrive to the base of a mountain, with a single doorway. As the door open we were greeted by more short men! More dwarfs! What a large citadel it was. Big smiles, big hammers, for men so short everything was mammoth.
Here, I've finally found what I was looking for, kin. A man gave me some ale, I believe he was the brewmaster, I would down the ale and wake up tomorrow. I'd passout on the great stairs, Surly would be hutching over to greet me,
"His Ale does have that affect on new comers, ye' might have not been a lightweight out there, but until you can down a keg of that, you're about a feather weight to me!"
I would get up, "That was some good ale, I want me some more.!"
Surly would look at me, puzzled. "It just knocked you on your arse and you want more of it? Well give it to him."
I would down the keg and look Surly in the eye.
Three, Two, One.. Nothing happened, I wasn't drunk that time.
"I must have been tired."
Surly and the other men would start to laugh relentlessly, "That wasn't ale mate, that was our wash water, all the dirt from the water goes into that, you gotta hold that down before we give you a keg of ale."
I looked around, puzzled. "Have ye' have any room for a cutthroat."
"I was hopin for some axes to suit ya, but I guess a cutthroat can do."
I looked at him, with a gritty face, "I can un wield my daggers and bow, for Two Axes of War and a Crossbow."
A Celebration would be at hand, they would finally give me my keg. I downed that too, they were all waiting for me to hit the floor a second time, it wouldn't happen.
Another keg, I would down the pipes, not even tipsy was I!
Three, Four, and BANG on the end of the fith keg, I was down and out. I woke up an hour after that, Surly hunched over again. "You're damn nutts Togren, you definately a descendant of this great nation!"
I would get up, and for months I would train two axes. Becoming a Master of the Art.
Now I am a master of axes and crossbow....
Then it hit me, I'm not human. I'm a dwarf! It's okay though, any one who ever stood taller then me, I could still punch them square in the nose, because I would always manage to put them down with a shoulder block to the back of their knee. My father said I could really never tell my own height, so accasionally I'll say I'm alot taller than what I am. I add an extra foot and an inch on. But it took me twenty six years and soberness to figure that out.
I would walk out of another Kingdom and into the woods, from here I'd venture into the land of the Wessex, what a marvelous place indeed. I'd soon make my way across it, into another local pub. Here I would talk with the Sheriff of Wessex, a good man, but I can say the ale here isn't strong enough for a man like me. I would be on my way.
Then I would run into a fool of a priest. Merrin of the Red Order, what a Priest he be. Some words to be exchanged and before I knew it, I had a fire under my arse! He would cast White Fire, not any orderinary fire, but this was a holy fire. Chasing me out of Wessex, and back into the wilderness.
I would wander far, yet again chaotically in no general direction. Until I met with a man, that I finally could see eye to eye with. Now I haven't seen another man of me, ever. However this man I would see eye to eye. His name was Surly Spitforge, well I would be damned if I ever saw a man as fierce, thick, and broad as myself!
To my knowledge, there was one great nation of Dwarf men, the Anvil. Way in the lands of Dordukr, the land of where the most fierce and large Dwarfs come from, I'm not talking men of ale. I'm talking men more thick then Mahirim and more fierce then Tyrannosaurs.
Low and behold, I have found brethern, Surly was the High Thane of Society of the Anvil. We would walk back to the mountain in which my brethern live. The trek would take us thirty seven days of cold hell. More damnable than the Alfar, I haven't seen such snow. It was quite the pain too, trudging through snow, I was grateful that my clothing underneath me armor was warmer than spring.
Soon we would arrive to the base of a mountain, with a single doorway. As the door open we were greeted by more short men! More dwarfs! What a large citadel it was. Big smiles, big hammers, for men so short everything was mammoth.
Here, I've finally found what I was looking for, kin. A man gave me some ale, I believe he was the brewmaster, I would down the ale and wake up tomorrow. I'd passout on the great stairs, Surly would be hutching over to greet me,
"His Ale does have that affect on new comers, ye' might have not been a lightweight out there, but until you can down a keg of that, you're about a feather weight to me!"
I would get up, "That was some good ale, I want me some more.!"
Surly would look at me, puzzled. "It just knocked you on your arse and you want more of it? Well give it to him."
I would down the keg and look Surly in the eye.
Three, Two, One.. Nothing happened, I wasn't drunk that time.
"I must have been tired."
Surly and the other men would start to laugh relentlessly, "That wasn't ale mate, that was our wash water, all the dirt from the water goes into that, you gotta hold that down before we give you a keg of ale."
I looked around, puzzled. "Have ye' have any room for a cutthroat."
"I was hopin for some axes to suit ya, but I guess a cutthroat can do."
I looked at him, with a gritty face, "I can un wield my daggers and bow, for Two Axes of War and a Crossbow."
A Celebration would be at hand, they would finally give me my keg. I downed that too, they were all waiting for me to hit the floor a second time, it wouldn't happen.
Another keg, I would down the pipes, not even tipsy was I!
Three, Four, and BANG on the end of the fith keg, I was down and out. I woke up an hour after that, Surly hunched over again. "You're damn nutts Togren, you definately a descendant of this great nation!"
I would get up, and for months I would train two axes. Becoming a Master of the Art.
Now I am a master of axes and crossbow....