Long, long ago...
In a village far, far away...
There lived a dwarven blacksmith named Thwar Ironsmiter. And Thwar had a wife called Dordeth.
Living happily in their village at the mountainside, Dordeth became pregnant of their son, Thror.
Thror grew up as a fine yound dwarf. At the age of 10 Thwar introduced his son to the art of blacksmithing. Thror had quite a talent and was an eager 'student'.
At the age of 12, he started making his first weapon. Although hardly perfect and quite unbalanced, his father showed Thror how one would fight with such a weapon.
Thror improved in both shaping the finest things out of metal as well as in handling them.
The gift that Thwar had passed onto his son was spoken of not only in the little mountain village, but in the neighbouring villages as well.
One day a human from the village Thrajyr came to Thror's father. This wasn't the first time this man came to talk with his father, but this time was different...
The man and his father talked in their home all through the morning and most of the afternoon and Thror wasn't allowed inside. When the door finally opened the man shook hands with Thwar, said something that sounded much like "I'll make the arrangements" and left. But not without kindly smiling at Thror and giving him a slight nod.
Thror did not know what to think of it, so he continued work. After a couple of minutes his dad came to join him, but he seemed absent minded. When the light grew to dim to work, his father told him he would like to have a word with him after dinner.
In this talk, Thwar made it clear to Thror that Thrajyr had lost its smith to an unfortunate accident. They were in desperate need for a new blacksmith and that Shawyn, the man who he had been talking with, had convinced him who to send.
With a lot of lingering Thwar hesitantly told his son that the people of Thrajyr needed him more and that he had nothing left he could teach his son.
Even though it came as a complete suprise to Thror, he was thrilled and accepted wholeheartedly. He had one day to finish the tasks he was working on and to say goodbye to his friends. He was expected in Thrajyr the day after tomorrow and it was almost a day of travel.
Everyone in Belnore was suprised that Thror was leaving but all were very supportive. All but Glanvar, Thwar's other apprentice. He never had been the best of friends with Thror. Especially not after his rank of first blacksmith apprentice had been taken by Thror. After that he had always come second and although Thror had felt very sorry for him, there wasn't much he could do.
Shortly after the announcement that he was going to be Thrajyr's next blacksmith, people reported that they saw Glanvar leaving the village.
And with this last event, Thror said goodbye to Belnore.
The first years in Thrajyr were pretty much the same as to what he had been taught in Belnore, except that there was much, much more to do. Thrajyr was smaller than Belnore, but being the crossing of two important traderoutes (the river and the dust trail), it grew very wealthy. He got to know all sorts of metal and got to make the most peculiair instruments for the villagers.
After almost four years, a vaguely familiar figure showed itself at Thror's smithy. It was Glanvar. He said he came to apologize for his behaviour during the days when they worked for their master, Thror's father.
Thror explained to Glanvar several times that apologies weren't necessary and that everything was forgotten already, but Glanvar would have none of it. Glanvar presented a nice ring as a token of apology and told Thror that this ring used to belong to his grandfather.
Thror accepted the ring and let Glanvar put it on his finger because he didn't want to be rude. After some smalltalk Glanvar left and Thror tried to take off the ring....but realised he couldn't.
The ring seemed stuck, even though it was big enough for Thror's fingers. Thror tried everything he knew, but even with help the ring wouldn't come off. One of his fellow villagers told him that he had heard of cursed rings that couldn't be taken off.
In the next weeks Thror found it much harder to learn new things. Logic escaped him that he surely would've found easy to grip before. Glanvar had obviously taken his revenge.
A mage who came by the village one day explained him that this ring was probably the ring of Lanser, a ring famous for draining wisdom from its wearer.
Thror lived on, with the ring on his finger. Bussiness kept on growing and growing. But so much wealth in a city as unguarded as Thrajyr was, could never last long. They were reminded of this danger one day when a group of 2 orcs and 3 goblins attacked their village and claimed everything as 'theirs'.
Thror, who had kept the fighting skills he learned from his father at a high level, slew 1 orc and 2 goblins that night and chased the rest away. He started to produce more and more weapons as the attacks got more frequent and even though he was not fighting alone anymore, the vile green monsters often escaped with something valuable.
One morning, after a long night of fighting Orcs, Goblins and much else that is stupid, evil and green he noticed that his dwarven mail was gone. The mail he had inherited from his father, who had inherited from grandpa who had been in the military, had been stolen.
Furiously and with much hatred, Thror started working on a new mail. Much lighter than his current mail, but definately strong enough to defeat every mail-stealing orc that ever entered the village again. As he worked furiously, his fists started to glow, but he didn't notice. After that, his hammer followed.
He was very surprised, and as the anger subsided and made room for surprise, the glow fainted. When this happened a second time, the same day, it was the start of Thror noticing that he had something special...
When he channeled his toughts, he could make the most curious things happen. After a while, he could light objects. He managed to tell something to someone without actually speaking to him or her. They couldn't talk back, but Thror made use of his newly found powers as it came in handy.
Meanwhile, the attacks kept growing stronger and stronger.
And one day, the orcs won. Every four out of five houses were pillaged and burned and many men and women were slaughtered. Thror's smithy was no more, so he picked up everything he could and swore to kill every orc and goblin that had raided the city that night.
Following their trails he encountered two dwarves and a halfling. One of the dwarves he knew as he was practically family. Surdur, as the dwarf was called, was with two friends: Urdos and $MATTHIJS. Surtur explained in a short, short version what had happened since they had seen each other last. Thror thought he had seen it all until he heard of Surtur's rise from the dead. He explained his trouble to the trio and they decided to help him by chasing those orcs.
On their way Thror asked Surtur a lot of questions. About raising the death, enchantments, curses and other magic. For Surdur, who had become a wizard, magic seemed to be work different though.
After a couple of days chasing the orcs, they came to a little village. While pondering to spend the night here, they noticed the cries and battle noise coming from the village. Without hesitation Thror and his group rushed to the village, finding a dozen orcs and goblins in this almost defenseless village...
(and there we fought the orcs, met B'redaru and continued our quest...)