Haukur son of Vildur son of Hardur.
Haukur decends from the noble Frotbeard Clan. A dwarven clan esteemed for their smithing and stone carvings, easily recogniced by their blond almost white beards. The Frostbeards where driven from their seat of power the grand city of Issakaz Taalomat (the frozen forge) located under the Blue mountains, at the beginning of the third age. Orcs from the Darkblood Clan marched threw the underdark, led by warlocks and shadow priests to take the frozen forge. It was lost in the mad darkness. The blue city became the frontline for an endless stalemate battle between orcs and dwarves. The few survivers fled to the neighbouring cities of Vol Jordrukat (the blue city) and the dwaven capitol of Aldamar. The once great clan of Frostbeards was reduced to a few families in exile, they swore revenge and their hatred for orcs was great, eaven by dwarven standards. Every young dwarf decended from the Frostbeards joined the age old battle to prove themselves, avenge their forefathers, and to push to retake their lost city. At the start of this tale Haukur is only 46 years old. A young dwarf determined to honour his clan. He stands about 4,5 feet tall, short hair and a braided blonde beard. With serious non humorus blue eyes.
Haukur ventured with a band of friends and relatives to join the underground battle. The frontlines where about a four days march threw old underground passages from Vol Jordrukat. They where in high spirit as the young usualy are, with a romantic notion of fame and glory, not stained by the harsh reality of real war.
The frontline consisted of a fortified position in an old stonecuttery, beyond that was orc territory. It was an ideal place, a wast hall, stonecolums reaching up into darkness. Nothing could move without making an echoing sound threw the hall. Stoneblocks had been used to seal up all but one enterance. A garrison of veteran dwarf fighters was stationed as the first guard against the dark horde. They greeted the band of young Frostbeards with serious nods, understanding their quest. The commander of the guard stepped out of the shadows. As the light iluminated his face Haukur saw that he was missing an eye and a ear on his left side, the right was covered in rune tattoes. He broke the silence by placing his warhammer down in front of him. “Hail warriors! I am Krazek captain of the guard. Behold the ones that went before you, and did not return.” With one vained hand on the battleaxe, the other hand pointed at one of the stonecolums. Runes with a red glow apperead, covering all the colums with names of hundreds of fallen dwarves. A dark feeling of slow rage filled Haukur. Every guard kneeled down, and with bowed heads they honoured the fallen. The young dwarves followed their example. The red runes faded, and the captain rose. “Avenge your brothers, but dont make me carve your names here.” The greeting ceromony was over.
During the next few weeks Haukurs party trained and skirmised with the guards. But they never ventured to far from the stonecuttery. He learned that the erea beond the stonecuttery consisted of a maze of tunnels making them almoast impossible to hold. They encountered a few packs of orcs roaming threw the tunnels. His axe tasted blood, but never for long, the orcs always dissapeared into the shadows. Taunting the dwarves to pursue them. Krazek had warned them about the orcs tactics, they didnt have a clear frontline, rather they patrolled the erea they controlled. They never fought long battles unless they had a clear advantage.
The dwarves was a band of 12, 2 veteran guards and 10 young Frostbeards. The young Frostbeards grew increasingly frustrated with swinging their axes after shadows and the prolonged hide and seek game. It was not the glorious battle they had invisioned. So they devised a strategy where only the last one carried a torch, and the dwarves in front of him moved silently pressed up against each side of the tunnel and hid in the dark. The strategy worked, a large group of orcs walked right into the trap. With the battlecry “axes of the dwarves, the dwarves are upon you!” the dwarves formation closed on the ususpecting orcs. It was a slaughter, and lasted only a minute. Every dwarf still standing, drenched in orcblood. A few orcs had understood the danger and retreated down the tunnel. Crazed with bloodlust Haukur and his fellow Frostbeards chased after them. The 2 veterans called out to calm the battlehungry dwarves. The warning didnt reach them, they where to far ahead. Dwarves with full armor are not the fastest runners in middle-earth, but somehow it seemed that they where able to keep up with the orcs. After 15 minutes of running they had calmed down enuf to sense that something was wrong. A loud piercing laughter echoed in the old tunnels. The dwarves froze, realising that not only had they lost the orcs from sight, but they didnt recognice the tunnels anymore. “We need to turn back now!” the veteran Jowrech uttered while cathing his breath. The laughter was getting closer, sounds of trampeling feets came from evrywhere. Realising what was about to happen Haukur shouted “Shieldwall! Both sides! Togheter!” Instinctively the dwarves reacted, closed ranks blocking the tunnel. There was enuf room in the narrow tunnel for 3 dwarves shoulder by shoulder. Packed togheter in 4 lines of 3, 2 lines facing each direction, with the shieldbearers in the frontlines and those with larger wepons behind them. At the very second the formation was in place a great horde of orcs appered from each side of the dark tunnel. The orcs came rushing toward them with a mad glow in their eyes, completely dissregarding their own saftey. The screaching laughter was unbearably loud. If it hadent been for the dwarves sternenss and their knowledge of underground tunnel fighting they would have been overrun in that first wave. Countless orcs fell, their place always filled by new mad faces. As Haukurs cousin Villfell smashed an orcs face with his shield, his head was cleaved with an enormus crude axe. Blood and gore from Villfell rained down over Haukur. Golhun dropped the only torch, picked up Villfells shield and took his place. Now in almoast complete darkness, the battle continued in what seemed like an eternety. The dwarves where driven farther north threw the aincient maze of tunnels. Eventually they got into a side tunnel, they only had to fight the orcs from one side. In the narrow tunnels the orcs wasnt able to take advantage of their overwealming numbers, but the dwarves where worn down by the endless fighting. Always with the madening laughting following them, drowning all other noises. Gilhum and Fokor died by the hand of a particulary large orc wielding two schyte formed swords. As Fokor fell down clutching his ripped throat, Haukur saw the opportunity, and with a great jump he planted his axe in the face of the snering orc. Still retreating the remaining dwarves had backed into a great chamber. The orc horde didnt follow them, the laughter faded. They had lost 7 of their friends in the long battle.
All standing exhausted staring at the enterance, waiting for the next wave of enemies. Dripping of sweat, their, thier enemies and their friends blood. Noone said a word, all hope of surviving was gone. They would die with honour. As Haukur was standing by the enterance breathing heavily, he realised it had becom much colder. He could see his breath as frostsmoke in a dim blue light. The walls where covered with a thin layer of ice. He turned around, the chamber was an old guardpoast. Illuminated by a hazy dim blue light, originating somwhere by the left wall. Haukur moved towards it, realising that the wall was made enteierly of ice, giving of the blue light. A shape was berly visible behind a thin layer of frost. He raised his bloodstained hand to brush the frost away, as his hand touched the ice, it started to melt. The sound of rushing water filled the chamber and attracted the attention of the recuporating dwarves. In just a moment the large block of ice melted away. After houers in the dark, the blue light was now almoast blinding. Their eyes focused, and they saw a great dwarf warrior. Like a hero from the old legneds, he was covered in a blue full plate armor. With a large blue twohanded warhammer in his hands, he stood almoast five feet tall, with a white braided beard. It was his armor and weapon that gave off the blue light. After the initial shock, Haukur realised it was made of pure Blue Ice. The chestplate of the armor was decorated with the Frostbeards clan sigil, a burning anvil. He looked a bit puzzeled by the sight of the five bloody dwarfs, but he didnt seem to realise that he had been frozen. They where equaly stunned by him. The warrior reclaimed his wits and with a commanding voice he shouted “The city is breached! Forward commrades!” Without any other explenation he ran towards the door. The remeining dwarves followed his command by instinct. They had been filled with a sense of respect and trust just by the sight of the shining dwarf.
Back in the tunnel they ran beside the ice warrior with renewed energy. The mad laughter had reapeared, a bit distant, but closing. This seemed to enfuriate their new leader. “I shall crush evry servant of Morgorth who dare walk in our realm.” As he uttered theese words, the madening laughter changed into a scream. The orcs where upon them again. Instead of holding the position he charged at the orcs. With incredible speed he swong his warhammer smashing heads and sending orcs flying back over eachother. The dwarves pressed on, inspired, leaving a trail of twitching bodies. No orc wepon made a dent in the blue armor. Fudin, Hepne and Goll was not so lucky. Fudin fell with a orc spear threw his throat. Hepne and Goll got pierced by arows while defending the rear. Suddenly there where no orcs left to kill. Haukur looked around, ripping his axe out of the chest of the last orc. “I think we might have won.” “Think agin.” Said the blue warrior. A rather small hooded orc stood alone before them. “Morgorth will claim your souls!” With a twisted smile he drew a dagger and ripped open his gutts. The horrible sight that followed would be etched into Haukurs mind for the rest of his life. A creature at least 3 times larger then the small orc emerged from the opened gutts. It had four long arms with tallons instead of hands. Black slime running over its skin. One large red eye in the middle of a horn covered head, a mouth filled with large pointy teeth. As it rose on two legs, Haukur saw its tail ending in a large tallon. The blue warrior didnt seem moved by the sight. “I am Lone Foehammer of the Frostbeard clan! tell it to your master as I send you back to the abyss.” As he said this he smashed his warhammer with all his might at the floor. The tunnel shook, pieces of stone fell from the cealing, the floor shattered. The creature, almoast filling the narrow tunnel stumbeled as pices of stone came crushing down over it. As the dust setteled it rose from the ruble, one of its arms twisted, hanging limp. It jumped towards them, enfuriated. The remaining dwarfs, Lone Foehammer, Haukur and Jare fought the snaring monster. Jare managed to hack of another arm as Haukur deflected it on his shield. When he cut threw the dark flesh Jare got showered by black stinking blood. It burned like acid, melting his armor. He screamed with angouish as he died, melting away. Haukur dropped his melting shield. The monster had been distracted for only a second by loosing its limb. But it was enuf, Lone planted his warhammer right in its eye, smashing its head to the ground. As the monsters head and torso got thrown down, its tail came rushing forwards piercing Lones exposed throat. Lone fell to his knees, his blue eyes full of an old warriors intensity met Haukurs before they darkened. The monster was dead, only Haukur was left witnesing the carnage. He stumbeled down the tunnel, bearly managing to walk. Dragging his axe, exhausted, his mind felt empty. After a while he passed out in the darkness, the last thing he heard was marching feet in the distance.
He woke up desoriented in a bed. A guard patrol had found him, severly wounded near the stonecuttery. That was twelve days ago, he had been transported to the healers of Vol Jordrukat. Tacticians from the army came to hear his story, the tale astunded them. The seriousness of the young dwarf left no room for doubt. A large patrol was sent forwards with the information Haukur gave them. They met little resistance, only scaveging orcs looting the boodies littering the tunnels. The frontline was moved to the guard chamber where Haukurs party had found Lone the Foehammer. The remains of the fallen dwarfs was given proper funerals. Haukur was hailed as a hero in the city, and given the title Foehammer. He also got a small pendant of Blue Ice in the shape of the Frostbeards clan sigil, the burning anvil. It had been the only item the orcs hadent taken from Lones corpse. But he felt no joy. Remembering his fallen friends filled him with shame for surviving. The historians of Vol Jordrukat was astounded to find records of Lone Foehammer, dating back to before the city fell. He had been frozen in ice for generations. Some theorised that there might be more dwarves preserved in ice. It wasnt any kind of magic that Lone could have cast himself, it might have been somethings the old runesmiths of Issakaz Taalomar had done as a last resort when the city was lost. Haukur swore on his fallen friends to find a way to retake the city. He was convinced that the Blue Ice would be a key element. So he used all the resources he had to pay a Forgemaster called Hodor to teach him the old ways of dwarven smithing. Forging the Blue Ice was an almoast forgotten practice, moastly beacouse the mines where depleted and the material was so scerce. When his training was completed he had devised a plan. To be able to arm a army with Blue Ice a new mine had to be found. He would need money, fame and powerfull allies to asemble an army. Moast importanly he would need experience. Still as young dwarf only 64, Haukur decided to join the Pathfinder society and travel middle-earth to gain what he needed for his quest.
Fre Apr 25, 2014 8:02 pm