Faerun's Heroes and The Lost Wave Echo Caves

Dain of Ironfist (1)

The year was 1359. 

The weather was treacherous that winter, and that's saying something for the Silver Marches and Northern Region. The Silverymoon Pass (connecting two key citadels of Sundabar and Silverymoon) was well and buried under several feet of snow avalanched down from the mountainous surrounding landscape. It was common for a dozen or so Dwarves, or whatever other creatures dared to travel the path, to become lost, presumed dead, along that route during the winter months. 

Although, that year, during the war that later became named The War of the Seven Forests, compared to the wounded and dead in battle, some lost adventurers or traders probably went completely unnoticed. Fear not, Mountain Dwarves are thick-skinned and well prepared for this season, keeping their blood flowing in the humming warmth of their burning forges by which their empires defiantly stand.

Sundabar's structure was vast and hardy, just like the rest. A menacing hive, steaming of concrete, brick and metal bearing tall and stark, vibrating in the jagged edges of grey earth valley that cradled the city. Its population oscillated, though always buzzing full of a variety of creatures - the majority were dwarves, who's residence remained predominately on the scratches of the surface and intertwining for miles below that. 

This harsh environment was devoid of any nature, entirely clad in artificial materials. Not a single tree, flower or moss could survive the strangling of a fortress walled boundary that was heavily armed atop every metre length. No doors were more secure than the triple enforced metal contraptions built by Sundabar's Dwarven community. Defense was rife here. The ice-water filled trench named Tarnar's Moat was rumoured to be filled with man-eating creatures of dark magical powers, that served as extra protection from any advancing enemy. Four gates and bridges led into the city: Swordsgate in the North, Eastgate in the Northeast, Turnstone Gate in the Southeast and Rivergate in the West. 

Within the Circle, a large square in the centre of the city that housed market stalls and the Master's Hall, four merry Dwarves were impressively knocking back several tankards of ale in Umshimble's Ugly Face tavern. They had crawled in there after being kicked out of Tabbard and Tankard down the cobblestone road. 

Gundren was a training blacksmith, like hundreds of others, and aspiring to be an influential tradesperson in North Fareun. He wanted his fellow clan to hear his name and look to their own weapons, forged, crafted and traded by the famous Gundren Rockseeker. Many of his siblings, but mainly his younger brothers Tharden and Nundro, laughed in the face of his passion. Although, a blacksmith was a very respectable livelihood for a Mountain Dwarf, so, arguably, he had already established himself well within the clan. The twins Tharden and Nundro were typical male boys, with nothing else on their mind but fighting, drinking and more fighting. Mind you, they were reliable and trusted, also inseparable. They had already been fighting in the war and were always delighted to recall the gruesome details of their missions when they came home on rotation with the other armies from the region. 

"Man, the Arn Forest barely put up a fight to the wrath of the mighty dwarves! We devoured a path right through there... hacked a couple of Orcs here and there, it was easy! You should have been there..." Started Tharden, flinging his sweaty arm around adjacent shoulder of Gundren as he placed another round down hard, spilling froth all over the round wooden table, having just staggered back from the bar. 

"Easy? Coming from the clumsy dwarf who nearly got their whole HAND chopped off from an enemy playing dead that you so arrogantly paraded over!" Nundro could barely be comprehended in between gasping laughs bubbling up from the depths of his gut. 

"Well, maybe that happened... but I sure did finish it off afterwards - then it was properly dead, joining the bloody massacre of its vermin brethren!"