Torriah Foehammer


Race: Dwarf
Class: Paladin
Diety: Moradin
Order: Anvil of the Light (relic hunter)
Weapon: Warhammer


Alone in one of the cheapest rooms at the Pampered Traveler, listening with partial disgust and an unadmitted longing to the sounds of revelry in the tavern below, Torriah unrolls an old and yellowed scroll. Turning up the oil lamp, she leaned closer to the light to read, and remind herself of her purpose in this den of inequity full of rabble…

Then the Maker took rock and iron and heated them in the Eternal Forge. He forged
the most pleasing shapes. These he took and quenched in the Trough of Life, and so the
first dwarves were created.

Each of the gods then took one of the dwarves and revealed to him the secrets
imparted by the Maker. But to Frar, the Father of Dwarves, the first King, the Maker
himself spoke. He told Frar of the mithril pinnacle and gave him the gift of wisdom to
rule his people. And so the First Dwarves came into the world in full knowledge of their arts and crafts

Once the First Dwarves had learned these things, the Maker placed them in a land he
had chosen for them on the earth, into the mines and caverns he had created for their
entertainment and their joy. In these sacred caverns the First Dwarves multiplied and
prospered, but some became restless and went in search of greater riches. These were
Glordin Anvil Forger, son of Bardin Hammer Beater. . .(1000 years of geneology)

After the First Dwarves had been laid in their tombs, Blight came into the world. The
god of Evil nursed a dark and ancient envy of the Maker’s creation of the dwarves. In
cheerless caverns, which knew not the glow of dwarves’ hearts, he labored to imitate the
maker. Goblins, hobgoblins, evil giants, and other monsters he made, and dreamed that
they would destroy the dwarves. In imitation of the Maker he labored, but he lacked the
true water from the Trough of Life to mix with the stone and to make clean clay. And so
they were tainted with his impurities.

Not content to work his own will, his twisted tongue sowed discontent among the
gods. A few began, like him, to imitate the Maker. So it was that elves, gnomes,
halflings, and humans came into the world. But these races lacked the iron that had been
forged into every dwarf’s soul, they were sickly and pale to behold. He had overlooked dwarven
resistance to his evil, so it was used by other races against themselves.
Then did the god of Evil send his creatures against the dwarves. The monsters were
driven back many times, yet they bred quickly and returned again and again in ever
increasing numbers.

Now at this time the lesser races spread over the world above, and they learned of
the wealth of the dwarves. And so, men and elves began to covet the dwarves’ jewels
and mineral wealth. Some sought to trade, others lied and used treachery to acquire
dwarven treasures. An alliance of men and elves formed against the dwarves and they
brought war to the mountain homes. Thus were the great gates of the dwarf kingdoms
closed and the stone halls sealed from the evil of those beneath the sun.

The lesser races, not content to leave the dwarves in peace, began to dig into the
earth, but knew naught of its ways. Their folly awakened the dragons.

The dragons rose in the fury of broken sleep demanding tribute, but the lesser races
could not satisfy their greed. They appeased the dragons with tales of dwarven gold, and
told them that the mining of the dwarves had disturbed their slumber. Those who had
traded with dwarves told what they had learned of the secrets of their realms. And so the
dragons came to our ancestral halls and blew in the gates. Spitting fire, they slew many.
Those who survived fled their inheritance into the world above.

Since that day new homes have been created and we give thanks to the Maker for
our increased wealth. But prophecy says that one day the caverns of the First Dwarves
will be reclaimed. Then will we be free from the attacks of monsters and the ways of
elves and humans

Renewed in her mission, she carefully rolled the old parchment and put it away. 139 years ago she had begun her training with her order, leaving her clan at the unheard of age of 20. She would not falter now, even as most of her order were no more, killed or scattered by the filthy beasts she had spent too many years fighting. Though the Orc Wars had dealt a severe blow to the order, a few still remained. The homelands of her people would be reclaimed, once all the sacred relics were recovered and the ritual redeemed. Whatever and whomever she had to use to achieve this purpose, she was sure Moradin would approve. Making sure her belongings were secure, she uttered a quick prayer for strength and guidance as she headed for the legendary library, the only reason she was in this noisy, pleasure palace. She was hoping perhaps some of their older tomes would hold clues to the whereabouts of the relics unknown to most dwarves and all the other races. Curling her lip in disgust as she passes the common room, she notes that there seems to be some sort of creature relating an unusual event and stops to listen…..

Torriah Foehammer

A coin for the Talleyman redbirdinmo