History
A Thundermantle History
((This is the tale I've spun to shed light on both the background and history of Bulfus and his home. There will be several parts leading up to present day when he met the Servitors.))
The heat and stifling air of the forge was thick as Bulfus worked.
His concentration on the chunk of iron he was working on the anvil was strong. He could visualize the end product in his mind and made hard, precise pounds on the iron to begin shaping it.
As he worked, the iron slowly transformed from an indistinguishable chunk of metal into the beginnings of a blade. What this blade was to be used for, Bulfus did not know. His forging abilities were often used as a release or time to think. And this was one of those times.
When he'd finished making what might possibly become a sword-blade, he turned to his assistant and told him to give it to the smithing school for practice work. Bulfus stalked away from the forge to where he had his belongings. He deposited the gloves and apron on a hook and wiped some grime from his prominent nose as he shook his thick brown beard.
This past week had been full of things to occupy his thoughts. He stood for a moment by the hook, staring at the forge. This forge made up the center of the small clanhold. The heart, as dwarves believe it. The clanhold, in fact, was a small homage to the capital of his clan, Ironforge.
At the center of Ironforge was the massive Great Forge, filled with forges, anvils, and pools of molten metal and lava. In this clanhold, there was only one large forge, with a roaring fire blazing heat into the city, surrounded by small workshops. Despite the small size of the clanhold, the forge was large and had the most shops. Around the central forge was a ring of other types of shops and stores, selling their wares such as clothing, tools, food, blankets, armor, weapons, alchemical goods, books, anything you could imagine.
Outside this circle of shops was a ring of houses dug into the walls of the large cavern that held the town. If one simply looked at the houses on the surface, they'd think there were hardly any residents in the town. But carved deep into the rock beyond the facades of the homes were larger rooms and even upper floors that extended back into the rock.
Bulfus smirked to himself, admiring the small clanhold. It may be small, but its still bustling.
He turned and made his way to his seat, not a throne as some may refer to it as, but a seat, as Bulfus referred to it. It was situated within a small hall off to the side of the forge. The seat was made of forged steel and thorium, and was large, accomodatig a taller dwarf. This was where the Thane of this small clanhold sat and ruled. And this is where Bulfus sat and ruled.
Thunderforge, as it had been named, was the residence and domain of Thane Bulfus Ironbellows, son of Falgren Thundermantle, son of Tygor Thundermantle. The small clanhold sat within the cavern beneath Everwatch Peak, a tall, lonely mountain in the rocky, uninhabited mountain range in south-eastern Khaz Modan. An area known as the "Badlands".
"Thunderforge? Never heard of the place." You might say to yourself. And you would not be alone. The clanhold of Thunderforge was established after the War of the Three Hammers by King Madoran Bronzebeard. He entrusted a loyal captain of his army, Tygor Thundermantle, with leading an expedition to the mountains and establishing a watch-post to guard over the mysterious eastern seas that bordered Khaz Modan, as well as to keep an eye south for any invading Dark Irons. Tygor had brought with him his entire Thundermantle Clan, numbering only a few dozen. He found what he named Everwatch Peak to be the highest peak with the commanding view of the seas and lands around. There he built his watchtower, the mighty Tower of the East, and with it, a watch-post.
Over the centuries, Tygor and the Thundermantle Clan grew their small watch-post into a small clanhold. Eventually discovering a large cavern beneath the peak where they established a fort and town. And this, they named Thunderforge. And from the time they first established the watch-tower on, the small clan lived simply, mostly unknown to the greater world around them. The only visitors were traveling traders and messangers from Ironforge and other dwarven towns.
The Thundermantles stood guard at Everwatch for two centuries. Encountering few threats but quelling them with ease when they arose, even engaging in a particularly fierce battle with Dragonmaw Dragonriders during the Second War. In time, Tygor was succeeded by his son, Falgren, as Thane. And after him, his son Bulfus. In quiet solitude, the Thundermantles lived and defended the kingdom that had all but forgotten them. They put duty to their kingdom above all else and pledged their loyalty to the Bronzebeard Clan, first to Madoran and then to his sons, Magni, Brann, and Muradin. Magni was always good to the Thundermantles, never forgetting them and their contribution to the kingdom. He visited personally once a decade.
The Thundermantles are not wholly forgotten however, in fact many of their exports are traded across the Eastern Kingdoms. Thunderforge's blacksmithing prowess is praised for its quality, and the bushels of delicious everberries are native to Everwatch Peak.
The clan has existed for centuries in quiet, but that was all about to change with the recent news delivered to Bulfus.
A courier had been sent from Ironforge by gryphon to deliver Bulfus a message. Normally post and messages were taken overland on the steep roads by ram. A gryphon meant urgency.
Bulfus had received word from the Ironforge Senate that King Magni had been in an accident that left him frozen in crystals, unable to be freed. When this had happened, his long-lost daughter, Moira, now in charge of the long-time rival Dark Iron Clan, had charged into the city and claimed the throne of Ironforge for herself and her son Dagren. The city was in a state of war and it looked as if the Dark Irons would prevail.
This message had been delivered the day prior, and Bulfus had called a council to determine his clan's action. It was a long and deliberate debate, but he finally prevailed in convincing the council to agree to him leading half of their small army to Ironforge to fight for the Bronzebeards. The Thundermantles had sworn an ancient oath of allegiance to Ironforge and the Bronzebeard Clan, and had been treated well by it's Kings.
Bulfus knew this was what must be done and wished to set out immediately, but his captain had said it would take time to prepare to leave. Bulfus had been in the forge all the morning working away, itching to ride out. "Th' sooner we depart, th' sooner we kin get ter Ironforge an' defend it from this wench, Moira." He had told his captain. But to no avail. His small army consisted only of eighty dwarves, which is a large number in a clanhold of two hundred in total. The captain needed to carfeful pick the forty that would accompany Bulfus. Taking half of their garrison was a risk but it was necessary, in Bulfus' mind, as it meant the defense of their kingdom.
Bulfus now sat in his seat, awaiting word from his captain to go. Bulfus had hand-picked twenty soldiers whom he trusted and knew were his best fighters. The other twenty he left to the captain to decide, since he'd be in charge of defenses in Bulfus' absence.
The seat was cool as Bulfus rested in it. Thankful this time of year when the air was dry and the sun was hot. Waiting was all he could do.
The heat and stifling air of the forge was thick as Bulfus worked.
His concentration on the chunk of iron he was working on the anvil was strong. He could visualize the end product in his mind and made hard, precise pounds on the iron to begin shaping it.
As he worked, the iron slowly transformed from an indistinguishable chunk of metal into the beginnings of a blade. What this blade was to be used for, Bulfus did not know. His forging abilities were often used as a release or time to think. And this was one of those times.
When he'd finished making what might possibly become a sword-blade, he turned to his assistant and told him to give it to the smithing school for practice work. Bulfus stalked away from the forge to where he had his belongings. He deposited the gloves and apron on a hook and wiped some grime from his prominent nose as he shook his thick brown beard.
This past week had been full of things to occupy his thoughts. He stood for a moment by the hook, staring at the forge. This forge made up the center of the small clanhold. The heart, as dwarves believe it. The clanhold, in fact, was a small homage to the capital of his clan, Ironforge.
At the center of Ironforge was the massive Great Forge, filled with forges, anvils, and pools of molten metal and lava. In this clanhold, there was only one large forge, with a roaring fire blazing heat into the city, surrounded by small workshops. Despite the small size of the clanhold, the forge was large and had the most shops. Around the central forge was a ring of other types of shops and stores, selling their wares such as clothing, tools, food, blankets, armor, weapons, alchemical goods, books, anything you could imagine.
Outside this circle of shops was a ring of houses dug into the walls of the large cavern that held the town. If one simply looked at the houses on the surface, they'd think there were hardly any residents in the town. But carved deep into the rock beyond the facades of the homes were larger rooms and even upper floors that extended back into the rock.
Bulfus smirked to himself, admiring the small clanhold. It may be small, but its still bustling.
He turned and made his way to his seat, not a throne as some may refer to it as, but a seat, as Bulfus referred to it. It was situated within a small hall off to the side of the forge. The seat was made of forged steel and thorium, and was large, accomodatig a taller dwarf. This was where the Thane of this small clanhold sat and ruled. And this is where Bulfus sat and ruled.
Thunderforge, as it had been named, was the residence and domain of Thane Bulfus Ironbellows, son of Falgren Thundermantle, son of Tygor Thundermantle. The small clanhold sat within the cavern beneath Everwatch Peak, a tall, lonely mountain in the rocky, uninhabited mountain range in south-eastern Khaz Modan. An area known as the "Badlands".
"Thunderforge? Never heard of the place." You might say to yourself. And you would not be alone. The clanhold of Thunderforge was established after the War of the Three Hammers by King Madoran Bronzebeard. He entrusted a loyal captain of his army, Tygor Thundermantle, with leading an expedition to the mountains and establishing a watch-post to guard over the mysterious eastern seas that bordered Khaz Modan, as well as to keep an eye south for any invading Dark Irons. Tygor had brought with him his entire Thundermantle Clan, numbering only a few dozen. He found what he named Everwatch Peak to be the highest peak with the commanding view of the seas and lands around. There he built his watchtower, the mighty Tower of the East, and with it, a watch-post.
Over the centuries, Tygor and the Thundermantle Clan grew their small watch-post into a small clanhold. Eventually discovering a large cavern beneath the peak where they established a fort and town. And this, they named Thunderforge. And from the time they first established the watch-tower on, the small clan lived simply, mostly unknown to the greater world around them. The only visitors were traveling traders and messangers from Ironforge and other dwarven towns.
The Thundermantles stood guard at Everwatch for two centuries. Encountering few threats but quelling them with ease when they arose, even engaging in a particularly fierce battle with Dragonmaw Dragonriders during the Second War. In time, Tygor was succeeded by his son, Falgren, as Thane. And after him, his son Bulfus. In quiet solitude, the Thundermantles lived and defended the kingdom that had all but forgotten them. They put duty to their kingdom above all else and pledged their loyalty to the Bronzebeard Clan, first to Madoran and then to his sons, Magni, Brann, and Muradin. Magni was always good to the Thundermantles, never forgetting them and their contribution to the kingdom. He visited personally once a decade.
The Thundermantles are not wholly forgotten however, in fact many of their exports are traded across the Eastern Kingdoms. Thunderforge's blacksmithing prowess is praised for its quality, and the bushels of delicious everberries are native to Everwatch Peak.
The clan has existed for centuries in quiet, but that was all about to change with the recent news delivered to Bulfus.
A courier had been sent from Ironforge by gryphon to deliver Bulfus a message. Normally post and messages were taken overland on the steep roads by ram. A gryphon meant urgency.
Bulfus had received word from the Ironforge Senate that King Magni had been in an accident that left him frozen in crystals, unable to be freed. When this had happened, his long-lost daughter, Moira, now in charge of the long-time rival Dark Iron Clan, had charged into the city and claimed the throne of Ironforge for herself and her son Dagren. The city was in a state of war and it looked as if the Dark Irons would prevail.
This message had been delivered the day prior, and Bulfus had called a council to determine his clan's action. It was a long and deliberate debate, but he finally prevailed in convincing the council to agree to him leading half of their small army to Ironforge to fight for the Bronzebeards. The Thundermantles had sworn an ancient oath of allegiance to Ironforge and the Bronzebeard Clan, and had been treated well by it's Kings.
Bulfus knew this was what must be done and wished to set out immediately, but his captain had said it would take time to prepare to leave. Bulfus had been in the forge all the morning working away, itching to ride out. "Th' sooner we depart, th' sooner we kin get ter Ironforge an' defend it from this wench, Moira." He had told his captain. But to no avail. His small army consisted only of eighty dwarves, which is a large number in a clanhold of two hundred in total. The captain needed to carfeful pick the forty that would accompany Bulfus. Taking half of their garrison was a risk but it was necessary, in Bulfus' mind, as it meant the defense of their kingdom.
Bulfus now sat in his seat, awaiting word from his captain to go. Bulfus had hand-picked twenty soldiers whom he trusted and knew were his best fighters. The other twenty he left to the captain to decide, since he'd be in charge of defenses in Bulfus' absence.
The seat was cool as Bulfus rested in it. Thankful this time of year when the air was dry and the sun was hot. Waiting was all he could do.
Sun broke on the third day of the ride.
Bulfus rose from his travel bedding and gathered his gear before readying his riding ram. He was the first up that morning, aside from the sentry, and was eager to move.
Bulfus had finally left Thunderforge and his force was now on the border of the Badlands and Loch Modan. So near. He thought to himself. Yet so far to go still. Hopefully we are not too late.
Bulfus turned as his second in command waddled up, yawning from his sleep.
"Jagin. Wake th' troops. We need ter get goin'. We coul' make Thelsamar by noon."
The tired lieutenant nodded and went to wake his sergeants. Chain of command was handy for a task like this.
When the force had all woken and broken their fast, they mounted up on their proud rams and began riding north and west. They'd camped in the pine meadows of Loch Modan, just over the border from the Badlands. Bulfus was thankful for this. The troops did not like having to descend and climb the vast ravine between the two lands the night before, but Bulfus knew that they would be safer for it. Their journey across the Badlands had gone as well as hoped, only encountering a few Dark Irons who ran off seeing the larger force.
The troops were tired. They were not accustumed to riding day after day. Most had not left Thunderforge in many years or ever at all. Bulfus, however, was determined, and had journeyed west to the grand city of Ironforge a handful of times. He pressed his troops on, not wanting to delay a second from aiding his King.
The force rode in to the small dwarven town of Thelsamar, just west of what had once been the Loch. The inhabitants were surprised but curious to see the force. There they resupplied and ate lunch, Bulfus spoke with the mayor and Captain of the Guard.
The news they gave surprised him. He was slightly relieved and also slightly concerned. They had informed Bulfus that after the attempted coup, Alliance forces had charged and subdued the attackers. The human King Wrynn ordered that a Council of Three Hammers be formed, consisting of representatives of the three clans to rule the Kingdom in Magni's absence. The situation was stable, but still hostile. Bulfus was pleased to hear order was restored, but this Council seemed strange to him.
"Jagin." Bulfus spoke with his officer and sergeants. "Th' situation in Ironforge 'as been handled. Our combat will no longer be needed."
"So will we be returnin' ter Thunderforge, Thane Ironbellows?" The Lieutenant asked, almost eagerly.
Bulfus shook his head. "No. This Council business doesn't feel righ' ter me. I need to go ter Ironforge still, to see fer meself. But I won' be needin' an army at me back."
The bald Lieutenant nodded. "So wha' is yer plan, Thane?"
Bulfus stroked his long beard as he thought, he set his hands on the table and folded his fingers as he presented his idea. "Jagin. Ye'll take th' twenty lads tha' th' Captain selected an' return ter Thunderforge. Our post mus' retain it's manpower, especially in such turbulent times as these."
Again the bald head nodded. "As ye wish, m'lord. An' wha' o' yerself?"
The Thane looked around the table at the four dwarves that were his "officers". "I'll be headin' ter Ironforge with me 'personal guard' ter see th' Council. I intend ter use this as a show of Everwatch's allegiance ter th' Bronzebeards an' let th' Council know tha' we support Muradin as ruler. I 'ave no bitterness fer th' Wildhammers but both they an' th' Dark Irons 'ave no righ' ter rule our kingdom."
"Do ye think tha' wise, Thane?" Asked one of his sergeants. "Do ye think tha' th' other clans may 'old tha' as treason?"
Bulfus smiled at the young dwarf. "Perhaps lad, but ever since th' time Everwatch was established, an' before then even, th' Bronzebeards 'ave been th' only ones ter supprot us, or even recognize us. My gran-pappy swore an' oath ter Madoran tha' th' Thundermantles would watch an' protect th' kingdom as long as they lived. An' now our kingdom faces a grave peril. It is my duty ter honor our oath and show support fer th' Bronzebeards."
The officers agreed and the next morning, Lieutenant Jagin set out with his nineteen troops back for Thunderforge while Bulfus and his guard struck out for Ironforge.
As he passed between the towering statues of Khardros and Madoran, Bulfus contemplated his actions. I hope I know what I'm doing.
Bulfus rose from his travel bedding and gathered his gear before readying his riding ram. He was the first up that morning, aside from the sentry, and was eager to move.
Bulfus had finally left Thunderforge and his force was now on the border of the Badlands and Loch Modan. So near. He thought to himself. Yet so far to go still. Hopefully we are not too late.
Bulfus turned as his second in command waddled up, yawning from his sleep.
"Jagin. Wake th' troops. We need ter get goin'. We coul' make Thelsamar by noon."
The tired lieutenant nodded and went to wake his sergeants. Chain of command was handy for a task like this.
When the force had all woken and broken their fast, they mounted up on their proud rams and began riding north and west. They'd camped in the pine meadows of Loch Modan, just over the border from the Badlands. Bulfus was thankful for this. The troops did not like having to descend and climb the vast ravine between the two lands the night before, but Bulfus knew that they would be safer for it. Their journey across the Badlands had gone as well as hoped, only encountering a few Dark Irons who ran off seeing the larger force.
The troops were tired. They were not accustumed to riding day after day. Most had not left Thunderforge in many years or ever at all. Bulfus, however, was determined, and had journeyed west to the grand city of Ironforge a handful of times. He pressed his troops on, not wanting to delay a second from aiding his King.
The force rode in to the small dwarven town of Thelsamar, just west of what had once been the Loch. The inhabitants were surprised but curious to see the force. There they resupplied and ate lunch, Bulfus spoke with the mayor and Captain of the Guard.
The news they gave surprised him. He was slightly relieved and also slightly concerned. They had informed Bulfus that after the attempted coup, Alliance forces had charged and subdued the attackers. The human King Wrynn ordered that a Council of Three Hammers be formed, consisting of representatives of the three clans to rule the Kingdom in Magni's absence. The situation was stable, but still hostile. Bulfus was pleased to hear order was restored, but this Council seemed strange to him.
"Jagin." Bulfus spoke with his officer and sergeants. "Th' situation in Ironforge 'as been handled. Our combat will no longer be needed."
"So will we be returnin' ter Thunderforge, Thane Ironbellows?" The Lieutenant asked, almost eagerly.
Bulfus shook his head. "No. This Council business doesn't feel righ' ter me. I need to go ter Ironforge still, to see fer meself. But I won' be needin' an army at me back."
The bald Lieutenant nodded. "So wha' is yer plan, Thane?"
Bulfus stroked his long beard as he thought, he set his hands on the table and folded his fingers as he presented his idea. "Jagin. Ye'll take th' twenty lads tha' th' Captain selected an' return ter Thunderforge. Our post mus' retain it's manpower, especially in such turbulent times as these."
Again the bald head nodded. "As ye wish, m'lord. An' wha' o' yerself?"
The Thane looked around the table at the four dwarves that were his "officers". "I'll be headin' ter Ironforge with me 'personal guard' ter see th' Council. I intend ter use this as a show of Everwatch's allegiance ter th' Bronzebeards an' let th' Council know tha' we support Muradin as ruler. I 'ave no bitterness fer th' Wildhammers but both they an' th' Dark Irons 'ave no righ' ter rule our kingdom."
"Do ye think tha' wise, Thane?" Asked one of his sergeants. "Do ye think tha' th' other clans may 'old tha' as treason?"
Bulfus smiled at the young dwarf. "Perhaps lad, but ever since th' time Everwatch was established, an' before then even, th' Bronzebeards 'ave been th' only ones ter supprot us, or even recognize us. My gran-pappy swore an' oath ter Madoran tha' th' Thundermantles would watch an' protect th' kingdom as long as they lived. An' now our kingdom faces a grave peril. It is my duty ter honor our oath and show support fer th' Bronzebeards."
The officers agreed and the next morning, Lieutenant Jagin set out with his nineteen troops back for Thunderforge while Bulfus and his guard struck out for Ironforge.
As he passed between the towering statues of Khardros and Madoran, Bulfus contemplated his actions. I hope I know what I'm doing.
Dun Morogh was colder than he remembered, even in the summer. Many of his troops were not prepared for the weather, coming from the dry, blazing heat of the Badlands. Passing through the gates of Ironforge into the warmer, cavernous halls of the mountain was welcome to the dwarves.
As they rode through the streets in formation, many dwarves gawked. The guards at the main gates nearly didn't believe him. They'd never heard of Thunderforge. But when Bulfus showed them the Ring of Thanes that rested on his finger, they allowed him entry without further qustion.
The fierce Mountain Kings, or Thanes as they were more often called in the new era, were well respected warriors of dwarven society. Every warrior worth his mettle dreamed of becoming as skilled as they.
Bulfus was determined still to meet with the Council, but he had been denied, even as a Thane, entry to their proceedings until the end of their meeting. And with as conflicted a society that was Ironforge these days, it could be all day.
Undaunted, Bulfus left two of his men at the Hall to await entry while he and the rest made for the nearest tavern. It'd been a long, dry ride in the past week, and good ale was always a healthy prescription.
The nineteen dwarves stabled their rams and made for Bruuk's Corner, a well-known bar in the bustling Military District. There the Thundermantles spread themselves out across the bar, making acquaintences and swapping stories with the numerous others enjoying a pint or four.
Bulfus sat at the bar chatting with Bruuk himself, he was seated with a couple of his own and a few Bronzebeards.
"Thunderforge, eh? I've 'eard they make pretty good armor."
"Ye'd be correct on tha', laddie. We've got a long history of forge-work an' 'ave some of th' finest smiths in th' land." Replied Bulfus to the good-natured Bronzebeard he was speaking with.
"An' ye say yer name is Thane Ironbellows, eh? I thought ye were a Thundermantle?"
Bulfus nodded while drinking from his second pint. "Aye, lad. I am, born an' bred. But th' name Ironbellows was given ter me after a battle with some Dragonmaw durin' th' Second War."
The Bronzebeards sitting with him as well as a Wildhammer and even Bruuk all became curious to hear a war tale. Every Thane worth his salt had a good one, and Bulfus was no exception.
"Woul' ye honor us with th' tale o' 'ow ye were granted this name, Thane?" Asked Bruuk while cleaning a glass.
Bulfus settled in to his seat and winked at his Thundermantle compatriots. "Oh I suppose I coul'. I'm waitin' on th' Council ter grant me audience so I'm sure I got a few hours." He grinned toothily.
The listeners crowded around Bulfus, eager to listen. "Aye! well then let's 'ere it, mate!"
"Very well. It begins back in th' early months o' fightin', when th' orcish Horde was makin' it's push through Khaz Modan north towards Lordaeron..."
As they rode through the streets in formation, many dwarves gawked. The guards at the main gates nearly didn't believe him. They'd never heard of Thunderforge. But when Bulfus showed them the Ring of Thanes that rested on his finger, they allowed him entry without further qustion.
The fierce Mountain Kings, or Thanes as they were more often called in the new era, were well respected warriors of dwarven society. Every warrior worth his mettle dreamed of becoming as skilled as they.
Bulfus was determined still to meet with the Council, but he had been denied, even as a Thane, entry to their proceedings until the end of their meeting. And with as conflicted a society that was Ironforge these days, it could be all day.
Undaunted, Bulfus left two of his men at the Hall to await entry while he and the rest made for the nearest tavern. It'd been a long, dry ride in the past week, and good ale was always a healthy prescription.
The nineteen dwarves stabled their rams and made for Bruuk's Corner, a well-known bar in the bustling Military District. There the Thundermantles spread themselves out across the bar, making acquaintences and swapping stories with the numerous others enjoying a pint or four.
Bulfus sat at the bar chatting with Bruuk himself, he was seated with a couple of his own and a few Bronzebeards.
"Thunderforge, eh? I've 'eard they make pretty good armor."
"Ye'd be correct on tha', laddie. We've got a long history of forge-work an' 'ave some of th' finest smiths in th' land." Replied Bulfus to the good-natured Bronzebeard he was speaking with.
"An' ye say yer name is Thane Ironbellows, eh? I thought ye were a Thundermantle?"
Bulfus nodded while drinking from his second pint. "Aye, lad. I am, born an' bred. But th' name Ironbellows was given ter me after a battle with some Dragonmaw durin' th' Second War."
The Bronzebeards sitting with him as well as a Wildhammer and even Bruuk all became curious to hear a war tale. Every Thane worth his salt had a good one, and Bulfus was no exception.
"Woul' ye honor us with th' tale o' 'ow ye were granted this name, Thane?" Asked Bruuk while cleaning a glass.
Bulfus settled in to his seat and winked at his Thundermantle compatriots. "Oh I suppose I coul'. I'm waitin' on th' Council ter grant me audience so I'm sure I got a few hours." He grinned toothily.
The listeners crowded around Bulfus, eager to listen. "Aye! well then let's 'ere it, mate!"
"Very well. It begins back in th' early months o' fightin', when th' orcish Horde was makin' it's push through Khaz Modan north towards Lordaeron..."
A bead of sweat rolled down Bulfus' cheek underneath the visor of his plate helm. The sun was hot. It was mid-day in June and Bulfus was standing atop the high watch tower that dominated Everwatch Peak. The Tower of the East, as it was known. Built over two hundred years ago to keep vigilance over the eastern lands of Khaz Modan. It was just as solid as the day it was built.
Bulfus removed the heavy plate helm from his head and wiped his hand over his brow. He set the helm on a nearby crate, unwilling to put it on in the blazing sun. He had been standing on the observation deck for a few minutes and was already desiring the cool depths of the clanhold beneath the peak.
"Anythin' new ter report, Lieutenant Gravelmight?"
The equally hot watchman responded with a shake of the head. "Nothin' Thane Thundermantle. Skies an' ground 'ave been clear all mornin'."
Bulfus grumbled at the title. "Lieutenant, I'll remind ye tha' Thane Thundermantle was me Da's name." Bulfus did not like sharing the title his father had carried. He never felt like he had quite lived up to his father's and grandfather's examples as Thanes. Not in his over thirty years as Thane had he done anything as remarkable as them. But now might be the time.
Gravelmight apologized with a nod. "Apologies, Bulfus."
Bulfus waved it off with his hand. "No matter. Keep yer guard up, Lieutenant. I hear tell these 'orc' creatures are a fair handful ter deal with. We'll no' want them takin' us by surprise."
Gravelmight nodded. "Aye. So th' stories are true then? Th' same bloodthirsty monsters wha' destroyed Stormwind are marchin' north?"
The taller dwarf nodded with a sigh. "Aye. I received a missive yesterday tha' two o' our advanced outposts were overwhelmed by their army. Only a few lads made it ou'." He glanced up at the sky. "I hear tell they've got dragons they're ridin' ter battle."
Gravelmight looked up at the skies nervously. "No. There's no way they coul' do tha'. Coul' they?"
Bulfus shrugged and patted Gravelmight on the shoulder. "None kin tell, mate. Jus' don' be too surprised shoul' ye see an orc on dragon-back. We'll use our pikes, guns, an' bows ter bring them down. Gryphons as well shoul' it come ter it. Jus' like dragon-huntin' in th' winter, mate." With that, Bulfus gave the Lieutenant a fine nod before descending the stairs down into the peak and to his seat near the forge.
As he was halfway down the stairs, Bulfus heard shouting from above, the observation deck he'd just left. Securing his mighty axe and hammer at his sides, Bulfus dashed back up the stairs to see what the commotion was. At the top of the stairs he found Lieutenant Gravelmight, looking shocked and attempting to bark orders to the few other watchers who looked equally afraid.
"Wha' is it, Lieutenant?"
The watcher, eyes wide, merely shook his head and handed a spyglass to Bulfus. "Look south, Bulfus."
Bulfus took the spyglass and leveled it with his eye, peering in the direction indicated. Then he saw what had frightened the men: Dragons.
He could hardly believe his eyes, he'd thought the reports of dragonriders were just tired lookouts imagining things, but now he could see for hismelf that it was all too real. He lowered the spyglass and turned to yell down the pipe which led down into the cavernous hold below, projecting his voice across the dark town.
"ATTENTION ALL GUARDS! REPORT TER BATTLESTATIONS AT ONCE. ANY GUARD NOT STATIONED IS TO REPORT IMMEDIATELY TO THE TOWER."
His booming voice echoed across the rock walls of the small clanhold. Within, confused soldiers rushed to defensive positions at the town's outter gate and at various stations on the peak and tower itself. Worried townsfolk gave each other scared looks and rushed to their homes to seek shelter. Whatever their Thane had ordered was not good news.
Bulfus turned back to his Lieutenant. In a moment there were twelve more guards at the tower, increasing the top defenses to fifteen. The majority of the guard was down at the main gate which was the most vulnerable position of Everwatch. The rest of the guard was scattered about the mountain top in dugouts, concealed by camouflage with bows, rifles, and pikes readied.
Bulfus turned to the troops standing in confusion around him. "Alrigh' lads, quit yer gawkin' an' prepare ter figh'! There's dragonriders comin' our way!" The stunned troops looked at each other, then dumbly glanced in the sky above and around. "Form th' south ye fat-heads, now get ter yer positions! Lieutenant, 'ow many kin ye count on th' horizon?"
Gravelmight looked through his spyglass. I'd say it's a full two wings o' em, sir. Aroun' a dozen." Bulfus paled beneath his beard. A dozen dragons against his eighty men. When dwarves go dragon-hunting, it normally takes at least ten, fully armed and fully alert dwarves to take down one drake. Twelve dragons and their riders were going to be a nightmare.
"Alrigh', steady yerselves lads! Prepare ter fire!" The dwarves on the tower armed themselves with repeating rifles, blunderbusses, longbows, and crossbows. Bulfus himself had his own blunderbuss and rifle with him, as well as some large javelins wtih lightning bolts engraved on their tips. The garrison on the mountain braced itself as the dragonriders circled out of missile range, deciding on their approach.
"Steady lads. Wait until they're in range." As soon as these words left his lips, the dragons split into three groups. Six flew off to the north and then dove down apparently heading towards the city gate. He hoped the guards below were prepared. Above, two dragons dove down in a spiral towards the tower, the remaining dragons circled above, laying in wait.
"FIRE!" Bellowed both Bulfus and Gravelmight as the dragons streaked towards them. Arrows and bullets flew into action, some pelting their targets, others whizzing off in narrow misses. The dragons kept advancing and a melee ensued. Dragons flying around, breathing flames at the dwarves as the dwarves retaliated and defended to their best ability. Two guards were down but the group had managed to slay a dragon with a thorium-tipped arrow through its heart. Despite their disadvantage in numbers, the dwarves had en edge with experience in dragon-hunting. They knew the weakpoints to look for and were excellent marks. The second dragon dropped with an arrow to the throat. The dragon and its rider plummeted to the cliffs below.
The band celebrated the small victory on their scorched tower. But their victory was short-lived as the four reserve dragons streaked down now into the foray. This time the dwarves could not hold. Their shots were well-aimed and they managed to down two more dragons, one by the javelin throw of Gravelmight into the stomache of a dragon and its rider, another when Bulfus leapt on to the back of another and dug his axe-head into the beast's head while killing the rider. But the dwarves had lost seven more guards, thrown, eaten, burned, or slashed by the savage dragons.
"RETREAT! FALL BACK TER TH' KEEP!" Bellowed Bulfus over the fight. The half-dozen remaining dwarves rushed into the covered stairwell that led down to the mountain hold beneath. Partway down they heard footsteps above them. The orc riders had dismounted and were pursuing on foot. What luck! Bulfus thought to himself. The foolish orcs were running headlong into a deathtrap. The stairs were designed so that one descending had the central wall to his right while the one ascending had the outter wall to his right. This meant that anyone invading from the tower had their fighting arm up against the central wall when turning the stairs and the defender had free mvoement of their fighting arm to attack. Bulfus ordered the halt and stood at the stair waiting. The dwarves behind him stuck long-tipped spears past Bulfus' head so that anyone rushing down would be impaled.
Sure as daylight, the first orc ran blindly into the trap, running three spearheads through his chest. Bulfus scampered around the dead orc to face the second and slew him in a brief scuffle.
The dwarves cheered but Bulfus darted past them, frantic to see to the defenses of his town, as well as to distance himself from the drakes above.
Upon reaching the door to the town below, Bulfus paused before opening it. He heard the sounds of battle on the other side: warcries, screams, and the clang of weapons. The dragonriders had broken into the town, he was sure.
Bulfus and his squad burst through the door to a balcony overlooking the small cavern. What they saw terrified them.
There were no less than five drakes within the town, flying, fighting, killing, and dying. Just as they had stepped out of the door one drake was shot through its wing and plummeted with a mighty crash into the middle of the forge. It writhed in agony as it the searing coals and flames devoured it and its rider. One drake lay slain atop a pile of bodies at the gate, part of it had been burned away. There were currently three drakes fighting or flying, another was pierced through the neck, laying on a pathway, dying.
There were scorch marks all over and many of the shops and stands in the central market were damaged. A drake was circling the outer ring and as it flew past the balcony where Bulfus stood, he leapt onto it's back, his men following suit. The added weight of six dwarves and the many hackings and stabbings which were inflicted on the drake forced it to drop in moments. Bulfus and his squad sprawled across the path near where the drake crashed, crumpled in a heap. Dazed, Bulfus regained his feet and led his troop to fight another drake that was grounded and cornered, spewing fire and slashing dangerously with its claws and tail. It was surrounded by a dozen guardsmen all shooting at it or attempting to spear it. One of the bolder who was standing too close was coralled by the tail closer to the drake. He tripped and the drake's head descended, biting the dwarf in two.
A guard next to Bulfus vomited but Bulfus charged forward with a yell, he grabbed a javelin laying on the ground and heaved it with all his power towards the drake. The javelin hit home and skewered the beast through the heart. A similar situation could be heard on the opposite side of the town, by the time Bulfus and the troops arrived on the scene the last drake and its rider lay dead.
The defenders of Thunderforge were victorious! Of the twelve drake riders who'd attacked, only two drakes had escaped, riderless. But the dwarves took a heavy toll. Nearly half of the guard was slain in the attack, and numerous civilians and guard were injured. The central forge was completely destroyed when the drake had fallen on it and many shops were badly damaged or destroyed. It took a week before all the bodies were carried out or buried and the debris cleaned up.
Bulfus learned from his guard-captain that the drakes were nearly stopped at the gate. The first drake had attempted to burst through past the defenders but had fallen to missile fire and crashed into the gate, shutting off the town from the outside. But the drakes were determined and burned a gap through their fallen brother and began wreaking havoc. Not soon after was when Bulfus and his troops entered.
The first thing Bulfus commissioned after the battle and war was a new forge. This forge was to be much larger and mightier than the original common forge that had once occupied the space. In the stone of the new forge was engraved all the names of the guards who had died that day defending their home. After that incident, Bulfus was known well for his contribution and support of blacksmithing as well as his combat prowess.
Bulfus removed the heavy plate helm from his head and wiped his hand over his brow. He set the helm on a nearby crate, unwilling to put it on in the blazing sun. He had been standing on the observation deck for a few minutes and was already desiring the cool depths of the clanhold beneath the peak.
"Anythin' new ter report, Lieutenant Gravelmight?"
The equally hot watchman responded with a shake of the head. "Nothin' Thane Thundermantle. Skies an' ground 'ave been clear all mornin'."
Bulfus grumbled at the title. "Lieutenant, I'll remind ye tha' Thane Thundermantle was me Da's name." Bulfus did not like sharing the title his father had carried. He never felt like he had quite lived up to his father's and grandfather's examples as Thanes. Not in his over thirty years as Thane had he done anything as remarkable as them. But now might be the time.
Gravelmight apologized with a nod. "Apologies, Bulfus."
Bulfus waved it off with his hand. "No matter. Keep yer guard up, Lieutenant. I hear tell these 'orc' creatures are a fair handful ter deal with. We'll no' want them takin' us by surprise."
Gravelmight nodded. "Aye. So th' stories are true then? Th' same bloodthirsty monsters wha' destroyed Stormwind are marchin' north?"
The taller dwarf nodded with a sigh. "Aye. I received a missive yesterday tha' two o' our advanced outposts were overwhelmed by their army. Only a few lads made it ou'." He glanced up at the sky. "I hear tell they've got dragons they're ridin' ter battle."
Gravelmight looked up at the skies nervously. "No. There's no way they coul' do tha'. Coul' they?"
Bulfus shrugged and patted Gravelmight on the shoulder. "None kin tell, mate. Jus' don' be too surprised shoul' ye see an orc on dragon-back. We'll use our pikes, guns, an' bows ter bring them down. Gryphons as well shoul' it come ter it. Jus' like dragon-huntin' in th' winter, mate." With that, Bulfus gave the Lieutenant a fine nod before descending the stairs down into the peak and to his seat near the forge.
As he was halfway down the stairs, Bulfus heard shouting from above, the observation deck he'd just left. Securing his mighty axe and hammer at his sides, Bulfus dashed back up the stairs to see what the commotion was. At the top of the stairs he found Lieutenant Gravelmight, looking shocked and attempting to bark orders to the few other watchers who looked equally afraid.
"Wha' is it, Lieutenant?"
The watcher, eyes wide, merely shook his head and handed a spyglass to Bulfus. "Look south, Bulfus."
Bulfus took the spyglass and leveled it with his eye, peering in the direction indicated. Then he saw what had frightened the men: Dragons.
He could hardly believe his eyes, he'd thought the reports of dragonriders were just tired lookouts imagining things, but now he could see for hismelf that it was all too real. He lowered the spyglass and turned to yell down the pipe which led down into the cavernous hold below, projecting his voice across the dark town.
"ATTENTION ALL GUARDS! REPORT TER BATTLESTATIONS AT ONCE. ANY GUARD NOT STATIONED IS TO REPORT IMMEDIATELY TO THE TOWER."
His booming voice echoed across the rock walls of the small clanhold. Within, confused soldiers rushed to defensive positions at the town's outter gate and at various stations on the peak and tower itself. Worried townsfolk gave each other scared looks and rushed to their homes to seek shelter. Whatever their Thane had ordered was not good news.
Bulfus turned back to his Lieutenant. In a moment there were twelve more guards at the tower, increasing the top defenses to fifteen. The majority of the guard was down at the main gate which was the most vulnerable position of Everwatch. The rest of the guard was scattered about the mountain top in dugouts, concealed by camouflage with bows, rifles, and pikes readied.
Bulfus turned to the troops standing in confusion around him. "Alrigh' lads, quit yer gawkin' an' prepare ter figh'! There's dragonriders comin' our way!" The stunned troops looked at each other, then dumbly glanced in the sky above and around. "Form th' south ye fat-heads, now get ter yer positions! Lieutenant, 'ow many kin ye count on th' horizon?"
Gravelmight looked through his spyglass. I'd say it's a full two wings o' em, sir. Aroun' a dozen." Bulfus paled beneath his beard. A dozen dragons against his eighty men. When dwarves go dragon-hunting, it normally takes at least ten, fully armed and fully alert dwarves to take down one drake. Twelve dragons and their riders were going to be a nightmare.
"Alrigh', steady yerselves lads! Prepare ter fire!" The dwarves on the tower armed themselves with repeating rifles, blunderbusses, longbows, and crossbows. Bulfus himself had his own blunderbuss and rifle with him, as well as some large javelins wtih lightning bolts engraved on their tips. The garrison on the mountain braced itself as the dragonriders circled out of missile range, deciding on their approach.
"Steady lads. Wait until they're in range." As soon as these words left his lips, the dragons split into three groups. Six flew off to the north and then dove down apparently heading towards the city gate. He hoped the guards below were prepared. Above, two dragons dove down in a spiral towards the tower, the remaining dragons circled above, laying in wait.
"FIRE!" Bellowed both Bulfus and Gravelmight as the dragons streaked towards them. Arrows and bullets flew into action, some pelting their targets, others whizzing off in narrow misses. The dragons kept advancing and a melee ensued. Dragons flying around, breathing flames at the dwarves as the dwarves retaliated and defended to their best ability. Two guards were down but the group had managed to slay a dragon with a thorium-tipped arrow through its heart. Despite their disadvantage in numbers, the dwarves had en edge with experience in dragon-hunting. They knew the weakpoints to look for and were excellent marks. The second dragon dropped with an arrow to the throat. The dragon and its rider plummeted to the cliffs below.
The band celebrated the small victory on their scorched tower. But their victory was short-lived as the four reserve dragons streaked down now into the foray. This time the dwarves could not hold. Their shots were well-aimed and they managed to down two more dragons, one by the javelin throw of Gravelmight into the stomache of a dragon and its rider, another when Bulfus leapt on to the back of another and dug his axe-head into the beast's head while killing the rider. But the dwarves had lost seven more guards, thrown, eaten, burned, or slashed by the savage dragons.
"RETREAT! FALL BACK TER TH' KEEP!" Bellowed Bulfus over the fight. The half-dozen remaining dwarves rushed into the covered stairwell that led down to the mountain hold beneath. Partway down they heard footsteps above them. The orc riders had dismounted and were pursuing on foot. What luck! Bulfus thought to himself. The foolish orcs were running headlong into a deathtrap. The stairs were designed so that one descending had the central wall to his right while the one ascending had the outter wall to his right. This meant that anyone invading from the tower had their fighting arm up against the central wall when turning the stairs and the defender had free mvoement of their fighting arm to attack. Bulfus ordered the halt and stood at the stair waiting. The dwarves behind him stuck long-tipped spears past Bulfus' head so that anyone rushing down would be impaled.
Sure as daylight, the first orc ran blindly into the trap, running three spearheads through his chest. Bulfus scampered around the dead orc to face the second and slew him in a brief scuffle.
The dwarves cheered but Bulfus darted past them, frantic to see to the defenses of his town, as well as to distance himself from the drakes above.
Upon reaching the door to the town below, Bulfus paused before opening it. He heard the sounds of battle on the other side: warcries, screams, and the clang of weapons. The dragonriders had broken into the town, he was sure.
Bulfus and his squad burst through the door to a balcony overlooking the small cavern. What they saw terrified them.
There were no less than five drakes within the town, flying, fighting, killing, and dying. Just as they had stepped out of the door one drake was shot through its wing and plummeted with a mighty crash into the middle of the forge. It writhed in agony as it the searing coals and flames devoured it and its rider. One drake lay slain atop a pile of bodies at the gate, part of it had been burned away. There were currently three drakes fighting or flying, another was pierced through the neck, laying on a pathway, dying.
There were scorch marks all over and many of the shops and stands in the central market were damaged. A drake was circling the outer ring and as it flew past the balcony where Bulfus stood, he leapt onto it's back, his men following suit. The added weight of six dwarves and the many hackings and stabbings which were inflicted on the drake forced it to drop in moments. Bulfus and his squad sprawled across the path near where the drake crashed, crumpled in a heap. Dazed, Bulfus regained his feet and led his troop to fight another drake that was grounded and cornered, spewing fire and slashing dangerously with its claws and tail. It was surrounded by a dozen guardsmen all shooting at it or attempting to spear it. One of the bolder who was standing too close was coralled by the tail closer to the drake. He tripped and the drake's head descended, biting the dwarf in two.
A guard next to Bulfus vomited but Bulfus charged forward with a yell, he grabbed a javelin laying on the ground and heaved it with all his power towards the drake. The javelin hit home and skewered the beast through the heart. A similar situation could be heard on the opposite side of the town, by the time Bulfus and the troops arrived on the scene the last drake and its rider lay dead.
The defenders of Thunderforge were victorious! Of the twelve drake riders who'd attacked, only two drakes had escaped, riderless. But the dwarves took a heavy toll. Nearly half of the guard was slain in the attack, and numerous civilians and guard were injured. The central forge was completely destroyed when the drake had fallen on it and many shops were badly damaged or destroyed. It took a week before all the bodies were carried out or buried and the debris cleaned up.
Bulfus learned from his guard-captain that the drakes were nearly stopped at the gate. The first drake had attempted to burst through past the defenders but had fallen to missile fire and crashed into the gate, shutting off the town from the outside. But the drakes were determined and burned a gap through their fallen brother and began wreaking havoc. Not soon after was when Bulfus and his troops entered.
The first thing Bulfus commissioned after the battle and war was a new forge. This forge was to be much larger and mightier than the original common forge that had once occupied the space. In the stone of the new forge was engraved all the names of the guards who had died that day defending their home. After that incident, Bulfus was known well for his contribution and support of blacksmithing as well as his combat prowess.
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