Cunning tactician with divine power.
General Baurus looked out across the battlefield, his forces had broken, all around him the cries of the dead and dieing rang out as the horrors walked amongst them, maiming, killing and gorging themselves on the carnage in their wake.
“Who can defend against such madness?” he thought, for all his years of experience in sieges and conquests he had never faced such a primal and illogical foe.
He was beaten, and now all that remained was for him to accept his imminent fate. Yet it wasn’t claws or teeth that found the gibbering general, but a small host of Dwarves, who upon seeing the Human’s rout had moved in to aid their retreat.
Six wide and five deep the Dwarven shield bearers moved in and held ground as the fleeing force retreated, their pursuers broke upon the shields like water on a rock.
Baurus had seen Dwarves before, but none like these, each of their shields bore a crest with a mace in an upturned fist all except the leader who had no shield at all.
Clad in simple green clothes with a jet black beard, he wielded a collossal hammer, brightly glowing as if fresh from the forge.
Baurus had never seen magic, he didn’t trust gods nor the whims of the arcane and yet as he stood there, helpless to act or even speak, he found himself in awe of the power of such a weapon.
He could not remember when it ended, or even how. The next thing he recalled was awaking to see the dark bearded dwarf from before standing over him grinning.
“GET UP YOU LAZY DOG” He yelled, and almost as if he realised he overdid it a bit, the dwarf lowered his voice a little and said “You were lucky I answered your calling!”.
Baurus wasn’t looking at the dwarf however, by now he’d realised that all around him the other dwarves were starting to fade away, almost as if they were never there at all!
“Nevermind them!” The strange dwarf snapped “Now that I’ve done you a favour, you need to do one for me”. Baurus blinked “Moradin?”.
Muamman Duathal chuckled to himself and stroked him beard thoughtfully “My leader wouldn’t wipe his holy arse on your coat-tails hume. Nah, unfortunately you’re stuck with me, Maumman and don’t be bloody thinking I’ll pull you out of the shite again anytime soon.”
What hapenned next was a series of Baurus passing out, coming to, having instructions barked at him and then passing out again.
It was dawn by the time he came back round, and there was no sign or dwarf, man nor demon, and yet strapped to his arm was a shield, bearing the same crest as the ones he’d seen with the dwarves. Written all over the back of this shield were strange shaped letters and words, as he tried to read them, the instructions came back to him.
“Go to Crag mountain, aid my brothers in their time of need… and change your bloody name to something more interesting!”
The rest is another tale entirely.