Description
This dwarf is a strong fifteen hands and
fourteen stone, with broad shoulders under
his tunic and a face with a proud bearing
and a lack of eyebrows and eyelashes. His
beard, too, is tattered by facial scars, but
what hair he has is siepia that glimmers with
strands the color of yellow maple in the fall.
Knotted around his thick neck is a worn yellow
kerchief, barely visible for his armors and dress,
and slung on his back are a hammer and shield.
His hands are gnarled, misshapen things hardened
by the elements and use. You also notice that
Role
Family
Added Fri Jul 23 13:54:34 2010 at level 1:
I am Cardum Drumcrusher, the son of Gargrim Drumcrusher and Lorenda
Gemgifted. My last name was bestowed on my great-great-grandfather Ioner
Drum Crusher for his valor against Smeargrin Broken-fang, a short-lived
orc chieftain who attempted to pillage the city of Akan.
My grandfather brought his family to Galadon when my da was toddling
to establish a logging enterprise in the Feanwyn Weald and Silverwood,
with designs on expanding into the Emerald Forest. He died when my da
barely had his full growth, but my da was able to keep the business from
goin under, even if he has not yet been able to realize his father's
dream.
His dream wasna my dream, and so while I earned many callouses in the
Weald, my heart wasna in makin family fortune.
Battle
Added Fri Jul 23 13:58:01 2010 at level 1:
I hate this, this writin stuff. If my dear ol ma hadna tol me to write
down my story, an instead some lil daisy-sniffin nancy-pants came to ask
me, why I'd tell them to wash my boots and drink the bathwater, I would.
That said, here I am wit a pen in my hand, and I'll be jiggered if it
doesna need sharpnin agin.
Back. So how did I come ta this place where I'm fixin to sign on with
those crazy bastids that who mages? Well, see, we were on a family
trip to Akan, haulin a load of hickory, but the real burden was in my
da's head, as he was wantin to make an impression on his cousins by
showin off his wife an his seed partial-grown and beginnin to look like
him.
It was a long journey for a wee lad like I was, but when the king
invited wrestlers to step up, I felt a hand in my back and I heard
him spout bout dwarven lineage and family honor and the like, and I
didna have much to say after that. So I put my boots in the circle
and a human boy finds he's in there wit me, and then the king signals
for us to get to it.
He was taller than me, of course, but scrawny like young tree fightin
for light in an old growth forest, and my thinkin was that he'd never
done an honest day's work in his life. Bein charitable, I thought I'd
move in smooth and just sweep his legs out from under him a few times
to get my three falls, so as not to hurt him too much. I spread my
hands wide, take a step forward, and lickety split he pulls out this
stick. For I know it, all I see is fire, I smell my beardling burning
and feel my eyewinkers completely singed off.
I was completely takin by surprise, an I fell back on my arse and conked
my noggin on the floor, it makin the dull thud like a lump of cheese
dropped from a height. The boy then jumps on my chest and starts poundin
me left and right, and that all I remember of that fight.
When I woke up, it's to this dour-faced stranger wrapping a bandage
round my head while my ma watches, and I'm in a bed with fresh sheets.
The room is a bare lil stone cell with a slit of a window, and I hear
the drippin of water from the rag the doctor wrings before he brought
it up to scrub at my face. My da is behind him, lookin away.
My ears are ringin, but I hear my da call me an embarrassment, wishin
he'd never brought me with him. On any future trips, he planned to
leave me in Galadon, working at the mill. I heard him say to make my
way back home when I was fit to travel, and then my parents left.
Profession
Added Fri Jul 23 14:01:52 2010 at level 1:
My stay with the priests of Thror Hammersong was uncomfortable.
Not unbearable, but as soon as my ma and da were gone, it seemed
like I was badgered inta draggin baskets of ore to the smelter,
water to the quenchin troughs, wood to the furnaces, and ashes
to the midden heaps. Now that was work fit for my spirits.
One ugly morn Praglatt, a fairly social dwarf whose beard was so
spectacular as to nearly obscure his face in his hood, well he
took me out into the yard for exercise, he called it. This
largely consisted of him swinging a stout rod and yelling
at me to protect myself for once. At first I tried blocking it
with my forearms and shins, but wearing only a thin shift you
can imagine how I came out of that, with blood and bruises and
bits of me sticking to his stick.
These beatings happened agin, and then eventually every day I got
in for my good thrashin an an earful of "You move like a tortoise"
an "How's that workin for ya, ya dim witted arse bargle!" I'd
tried blockin his swing wit both my arms an then come in for
a kick, but the bastid saw it comin and swung his stick down at my
shin and then pushed me over when I shifted my weight.
"Is the milk maid wantin to go cry to his momma?" Praglatt jeered,
and then I was up and swingin, wantin to push in his face like I
had wanted so many times before. I caught the ironwood rod in
my throat this time, and it took me a bit to recover. As I sat
like a fish out of water, he talked quietly for the first time
I'd known him.
"You need to avoid getting hit, lad. If you charge in at me like,
a bull, I'm going to be butchering you for steaks. If it hurts
and it ain working, try something else before you get your brains
spilt."
I couldna answer, as my throat was feelin all crushed, but when I
could get a bit o air I stood up and came at him again. He raised
the stick high above his head, an I charged toward him, but at the
last moment I got this feelin, an I acted on it. Praglett was
altering his swing from a vertical strike to a sweeping rib shot,
but I was already sliding on the ground under the blow. I came
up to my knees to punch up at jewels, but my tutor was too quick
and the butt of his weapon came down onto my head, layin me out.
When the stars floated away, I looked up at Praglatt's smilin face.
"Good. Now get up and let's see if you can do that again. We might
make a monk out of you yet."
Ordained
Added Wed Jul 28 02:14:49 2010 at level 20:
If my ma were ever ter read this, I spect she'd have been shocked ter
hear that I'd taken up the cloth. I was neer very religious when I
was a kid, an here I went an put myself on Lord Hammersong's anvil,
an pronouncin my intent ter build a hut.
Yer got ter know that Draugnir has a sense o humor, axin me ter
give him a good reason ter call Lord Hammersong fer an interview,
then takin away my voice. I'm thinkin I wringed a lil respect out o
him, though, when I threw down my hammer an put up my fists. Rather
than takin the first swin like I offered him, he laughed, called
me a mad man, an allowed me ter see my lord. I got his blessin,
an then he sent me off ter stir up trouble wherever I found it.
I confess I was worried he'd tell me ter behave myself in Galadon
an all, but he said I wouldna be a good priest o Thror or a hutman
worth a damn if'n I was docile in town. From where I stood, it was
a damn fine ter talk ter a god an have him talk back.
As I been tellin the blighters her axe me about my callin, yer got
ter taste the bitter before the sweet. What I didna tell them is that
I doesna spect that Lord Hammersong is much of a cook; his life is all
about heatin, hammerin, quenchin, and testin ter see if his work is
good. We're the metal caught in his tongs, an as warrior-priest agin
magic, I'm hopin to 'spire the lads ter greater heights and watch
them duergar-piss-drenched wizards sink ter new lows. Ter that, I'll
have ter work up good enough ter become both a hammer an an anvil
myself.
Humor an the Song o the Hammer
Added Wed Aug 11 13:23:10 2010 at level 37:
Well, my ma would ha been proud o me, I reckon. Da' would been
snickerin in his boots for the irony o it all. In the event
someone goes through my thins when they clean ou my hut after
I'm gone, I'll put it all down on the skins. Canna afford the
paper right now, as I'm livin all austere like.
Unnerstan that life 'as been pretty hard. I has foun myself
wakin up at my hometown altar so often that the priests in
Galadon started settin out a cushion so my ghostly arse wouldna
get bruises. I've had "bastions o the Light," them squires
from the Fortress, refuse ter travel wit me, sayin, "Why der
yer waste my time?" The magi I hunt, well, the smart 'uns
has done the math an realize I canna attack them if'n I canna
see them. Draugnir, in Lord Hammersong's shrine, 'as tol me
that the only thin that stands between me an a hut are the
gods o War, but I ain seein them any more than I be see'in
most mages.
Through all that, I been keepin up wit the war as best
as I can, an spendin all my practice money I'd been given
fer learnin prayers jes ter keep my body healthy. My ma
was right, as beans an bread might be a dull meal, but they is
cheap keep yer hale.
So, ter get ter the climax o this story, I was talkin at the
High Herald o her sinful reliance on magick, when out o nothin
a spark o fire kindles my spirit, an I am gifted wit insight
inter temperance. I o course beg leave an go offer up a prayer
o thanks, an then I visit the guil'master in Voralian City
an inquire more directly about the virtue. Maybe yer can imagin
my elation, if yer know a little abou paladins.
I learn a little more o temperance, but I also learn that my lord
has a sense o humor. All but one o my newfound abilities would
requires a prayer, an the one that relies upon yer own skills doesna
work fer a paladin that doesna use weapons much. I can almos hear
Lord Hammersong laughin, an I admit, it makes me laugh ter.
Yer see, it's a funny thin, but when yer refuse ter take the easy way,
but instead lie down between the hammer an the anvil o my lord's will,
you be learnin both pride an humility at the once.
I'm thinkin everyone should has this experience.
Reflections on a priesthood
Added Wed Sep 8 22:08:14 2010 at level 51:
Hello agin, Ma. The brothers done locked me in a cell an tol me ter
reflect on the priestly aspects o my life that I'd bin omittin in me
bid fer a hut. I'm fit ter be tied, as yer can imagin. I'm thinkin
the elder gods be sympathetic ter the plight o mages, I am, fearin
the wrath o the Drumcrusher clan fallin upon them with the ire o
the Battleragers. I wouldna been the first paladin ter take up
arms in the village, but Draugnir done dragged me arse back here an
locked the door. He's a bastid, Ma. Yer'd probably like im.
So here I is in a room three paces by four paces. I got a pallet,
this here wool blanket, an a lil nightstand I can use for a writin
table, like I am righ now. Thin is, Ma, I doesna know shyte abou
prayin. Where do I begin? Yer good priests, well dey been prayin
all their lives, an me, well I'm bein tol it's time I learn an set to
it, an here I is seein the first bits o grey in me beard. Can yer
take a tunnelmaster an assign them ter the coal shuttle? Aye, but
it's a sorry fit.
I doesna know where my life is goin now, Ma. Ifn I ain ter be takin
ter soldierin, I guessin I'm ter maybe settin up a parish, maybe dere
in Galadon. If that doesna satisfy me, maybe I'll look ter takin up
smithin. I got pretty good at it over the years, an I should be able
ter make a honest livin at it.
But fer now I's stuck in here, an ifn my brothers got any decency,
they'll be bringin me a sizable quantity o ale.
PK Wins
Jul 25, 2010|Lv 16|East Sumner's Road|Pheenth vs 1: Cardum (100%,KB)
Jul 26, 2010|Lv 16|Akan|Kessliun vs 1: Cardum (100%,KB)
Aug 11, 2010|Lv 37|Galadon|Schombt vs 2: Harcel (61%,KB), Cardum (38%)
Aug 22, 2010|Lv 47|Coven of Dralkar Wood|Mortanis vs 2: Kemrin (89%,KB), Cardum (10%)
Aug 28, 2010|Lv 51|Hamsah Mu'tazz|Yrork vs 2: Hanord (90%,KB), Cardum (9%)
Aug 29, 2010|Lv 51|Galadon|Elajac vs 2: Cardum (25%), Zubei (74%, KB)
Sep 11, 2010|Lv 51|The Ruins of Ostalagiah|Yohnerk vs 2: Cardum (4%), Sarrah (95%, KB)
Oct 10, 2010|Lv 51|The Inn of the Eternal Star|Uial vs 1: Cardum (100%,KB)
Oct 24, 2010|Lv 51|Galadon|Kotone vs 2: Cardum (4%), Noraeth (95%, KB)