Table Top RPGs by GrinNoCat

Table of Contents

[Shouting] Stop beating on my door! I already told you bastards…

[Jerking the door open] Oh, sorry, your eminence, I thought you were those crusaders; here to pester me about their gear again.

Come in, Come in. You look like you need a drink. Shit, I need one, and you haven’t even told me why you’re here. I have a very nice peach brandy from the northern orchards. Please have a seat; I’ll get a bottle and a couple of tumblers.

You knew I would go as soon as I heard that he killed Zane. Since Zane was the only thing holding me back from going after him after he killed Zane’s family, I’ve got no reason to stay my hand. So why are you here? You must want something from me; otherwise, you would have just left me to do like I usually do.

Maxwell being a demi-lich adds some complexity to the scenario but isn’t going to keep me from putting him down. I may need a few helpers, though – but no church dicks! I don’t want any high and mighty arsehole keeping me from doing what needs to be done, and you know I’ll smash my hammer upside their head no matter who they are or who their daddy is. Find me some adventurers or something, I’ll help them gear up, and we’ll put Maxwell’s soul back in his body just long enough to burn him at the stake and listen to him scream.

I’ll have the forge packed up and ready to go in a couple of hours, and I’ll be ready an hour after that. Where do you want me to meet these killers who wish to put Maxwell down?

https://obliquepaths.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Markus-Hammer-of-the-Earth.pdf

The midwife gave me to the temple when I was only a few hours old, telling the monk that my parents refused to raise a cursed child. They didn’t know how right they were. There was something very different about me, even if I wasn’t cursed, and as I grew, it started to show.

The other children in the temple of Ovos took on characteristics of the Amethyst Dragon who lived there as they progressed in the training the monks provided. I didn’t, my appearance became darker, and my nature mirrored it.

When I was a boy, I delighted in the death of little things, bugs, lizards, rodents, and even birds, when I could catch them. I was fascinated with how the light faded from their eyes and the sound of the last breath leaving their bodies. It invigorated me, knowing I could end it – I was in control of their life.

As we grew older and began weapon training in addition to our martial arts, the others took up swords, knives, shuriken, and crossbows. I took on the tetsubo and spent endless hours mastering it. A great weapon that lets me use it interchangeably in offense or defense. My reach with it let no one approach, and my ability to switch between wielding with hands, feet, or a combination of them made me a nightmare on the battlefield. Balancing it and climbing it like a tree to survey the field often allowed me to fish in troubled waters.

I smile, thinking about it. It is a brutish weapon that let me hear bones break when I didn’t pull my strikes – it still gives me a shiver of pleasure to remember inflicting that pain. A weapon that let me spatter blood across the field as I wrecked my fellow students and showed them their weaknesses.

But their pain was only physical, easily overcome, and nothing to the pain of rejection I would feel on Testing Day. Even though I was the head disciple of the temple, a warrior without peer within my generation, when I could not manifest the Dragon’s Breath, the masters turned their backs upon me, and I was cast from the temple.

I will be back! I will grow stronger than the masters and prove that I am worthy, even without the Dragon’s Breath. Death is a greater power and part of everything! Death is greater than any dragon – even Ovos expects to die!

You want to know about dwarves? You are an idiot. Nobody really wants to know the truth. They’re all sorry afterward. Fine, stop pestering me. This is going to make you glad you’re a halfling.

The ‘gonads’ of a male dwarf detach from him when he reaches sexual maturity. They are referred to as (Dwarven) Stones, and a dwarf usually has two, sometimes three or four. He carries his stones in a small sack and ‘gifts’ them to his bride when he is married. He may get them back if he outlives his bride, but it’s unlikely, and without that gift, he isn’t getting married again. Single dwarves may gift their Stones to family or a marriage prospect before going off to fight in a war, but if he lives, he’ll probably be single for life too. Though this gift is probably the only thing that has saved the dwarven race, there’s no gratitude for it.

Dwarven Stones are the most valuable ‘gem’ in dwarven society. They have no shelf-life, so families hoard extra stones and make secret deals with them. New colonies, if approved, will be granted additional Stones to help them grow fast and stabilize. There are no incestual consequences, so it doesn’t matter how closely related the parties are when using a Stone.

Dwarves don’t reproduce sexually. Instead, the female dwarf places a ‘Dwarven Stone’ in her vagina and pushes it up into her uterus; if she likes her mate, she may let him help. If it takes root, she becomes pregnant and has a dwarfling six months later. If she’s really lucky, the stone isn’t consumed and can be used again.

Dwarven society is actually matriarchal, wholly controlled from behind the scenes by females, who are too important and busy to go adventuring – thus the distinct lack of female dwarves.

Knowing the above should explain some male dwarven behavior; males are sexually frustrated, politically undermined, and clinically depressed. Male society is designed around burying their feelings and hiding their inadequacies by overcompensating with skills and alcohol. I’m a dwarf, and I can pound adamantium into submission! I’m a dwarf, and I can drink any other race under the table! Blah, Blah, Blah – It’s all noise to hide the pain.