One of my players, Tim, has produce the following as background to his dwarf fighter Errol. Since Tim is a talented graphic illustrator he also made some composite images from various source to represent pages on kobolds, lineage and indeed Dwimmermount from his heirloom. I'm totally blow away by both the effort and result.
Errol’s Book
"Sometimes, in my more idle moments, I wonder what it must be like to know from where you came and what came before you. I imagine the weight of history provides a Dwarf with a sense of being that I myself am devoid.
Nigh on 40 summers ago I fell in with a Dwarven stone cutting gang in Trachtenberg. They needed skills with the softer stone found in the area and I had just finished building a farmstead for a wealthy landowner who recommended me to the Baron they were being employed by. The pay was fantastic, and I was promptly installed as an advisor to the band of 30odd masons. They were the first Dwarves I ever had the opportunity to know in detail, and since then I have shied from my people out of embarrassment.
These Dwarves came from near and far, from clans of all varieties, and with rich detailed histories of which they were positively saturated in. By day they would sing worksongs that spoke of the great halls and subterranean cities of their ancestors; by night they would tell stories of the heroic deeds, feuds, wars, and loves of their kin. I could only sit in ashamed marvel at this epic tapestry of history, of which I only held threads of knowledge.
One evening Ercanbald, one of the more gregarious of the Dwarves asked me why I had never spoken of my clan. I was glad of the firelight and the ale I had consumed already having reddened my cheeks, as they flushed further.
I told Ercanbald of my past.
I was found on the steps of the Vidda Commorancy, an orphanage in the town of Vidda as a baby with nothing but the cloth I was swaddled in and an ancient book. The Commorancy was operated by the Scions of Caint, an order of nuns that staff hospitals and the like across the land. They raised me well, and I can’t by any means say that I didn’t have a happy childhood. The book was unknown to me until I came of age and was too old to stay at the orphanage. Sister Haim, who had always been the most kind to me of all the nuns took me aside one morning and presented me with the tattered leather tome, obviously very ancient, and despite the damage it had suffered it had clearly been well cared for otherwise it would not have reached the age it had.
She told me of its provenance; that it had been the only item left with me and that the sisters had attempted to have it translated by some of the many learned Dwarves in Vidda. Unfortunately this had not come to much, Sister Haim said that all they had managed to discover was that it was a general history of the Dwarves, and specifically within that of one clan in particular. Much of it was written in a language unknown to the Dwarven scholars who had studied it, although they saw that it shared elements of Ancient Thulian and Elvish none was able to translate it with confidence.
What is clear is that the book contains a detailed lineage of a Dwarven clan that appeared to be intrinsically linked to the mountain of Dwimmermount and it’s fabled interior. Many of the book’s pages have been lost, be that by through negligence or design I have no inkling. The result is that I cannot trace my own part in that lineage of the Dwarven clan, but I can only assume that I play some part in it. This is why I choose to live by my forename that was given to me by the Scions of Caint only.
This is the driving force behind my journey to Muntberg and desire to explore the mythical mountain and hopefully learn of my history and eventually take my place in it, as after the two years I spent with the Dwaven stonecutters I felt I could no longer hide from my history as I had done for so many years before."
Errol’s Book
"Sometimes, in my more idle moments, I wonder what it must be like to know from where you came and what came before you. I imagine the weight of history provides a Dwarf with a sense of being that I myself am devoid.
Nigh on 40 summers ago I fell in with a Dwarven stone cutting gang in Trachtenberg. They needed skills with the softer stone found in the area and I had just finished building a farmstead for a wealthy landowner who recommended me to the Baron they were being employed by. The pay was fantastic, and I was promptly installed as an advisor to the band of 30odd masons. They were the first Dwarves I ever had the opportunity to know in detail, and since then I have shied from my people out of embarrassment.
These Dwarves came from near and far, from clans of all varieties, and with rich detailed histories of which they were positively saturated in. By day they would sing worksongs that spoke of the great halls and subterranean cities of their ancestors; by night they would tell stories of the heroic deeds, feuds, wars, and loves of their kin. I could only sit in ashamed marvel at this epic tapestry of history, of which I only held threads of knowledge.
One evening Ercanbald, one of the more gregarious of the Dwarves asked me why I had never spoken of my clan. I was glad of the firelight and the ale I had consumed already having reddened my cheeks, as they flushed further.
I told Ercanbald of my past.
I was found on the steps of the Vidda Commorancy, an orphanage in the town of Vidda as a baby with nothing but the cloth I was swaddled in and an ancient book. The Commorancy was operated by the Scions of Caint, an order of nuns that staff hospitals and the like across the land. They raised me well, and I can’t by any means say that I didn’t have a happy childhood. The book was unknown to me until I came of age and was too old to stay at the orphanage. Sister Haim, who had always been the most kind to me of all the nuns took me aside one morning and presented me with the tattered leather tome, obviously very ancient, and despite the damage it had suffered it had clearly been well cared for otherwise it would not have reached the age it had.
She told me of its provenance; that it had been the only item left with me and that the sisters had attempted to have it translated by some of the many learned Dwarves in Vidda. Unfortunately this had not come to much, Sister Haim said that all they had managed to discover was that it was a general history of the Dwarves, and specifically within that of one clan in particular. Much of it was written in a language unknown to the Dwarven scholars who had studied it, although they saw that it shared elements of Ancient Thulian and Elvish none was able to translate it with confidence.
What is clear is that the book contains a detailed lineage of a Dwarven clan that appeared to be intrinsically linked to the mountain of Dwimmermount and it’s fabled interior. Many of the book’s pages have been lost, be that by through negligence or design I have no inkling. The result is that I cannot trace my own part in that lineage of the Dwarven clan, but I can only assume that I play some part in it. This is why I choose to live by my forename that was given to me by the Scions of Caint only.
This is the driving force behind my journey to Muntberg and desire to explore the mythical mountain and hopefully learn of my history and eventually take my place in it, as after the two years I spent with the Dwaven stonecutters I felt I could no longer hide from my history as I had done for so many years before."
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| On kobolds |
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| Dwimmermount and dwarves |
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| Lineage |
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