Post by Firstt on Jun 13, 2008 3:37:16 GMT -5
War Of The Three Hammers: Chapter One: Snobby Dark Ironns![/b][/u]
261 Years Ago, One Month before the death of Anvilmar
"Bah, Parab! Why do we ha' ta do this ne' ways? T'e Dark Irons are pompus! Snobby fools... Why can't we drink with ta Wildhammers? At least they're Honorable. These Dark Irons only care about one thing: Killin', killin' and killin'. Can't ye see this Parab?"
Parab Brewbeard sighs, his brother was always so rude and loud, then again, all the dwarves were like that! Except him and the few dwarves who didn't drink all the time... He didn't really mind though, he could still hold up to his name. Generally he'd turn around and walk off, but his brother was there to protect him. Parab was a stout, strong dwarf. But he was not trained in combat, his brother, Barab was a soldier in the guard, so he had skill.
Parab, wasn't a strong dwarf, but he was a smart dwarf. His mother had always praised him for being the smart one, knowing her boy was going to be a smart, non-drunk all the time dwarf! Parab lived to please his mother, his stout, short body a testament to that. He had helped around the house when she was sick.. Parab shook the thoughts of his mother out of his head, snagging his robe on something, growling slightly as he pulled it loose. Thinking to himself 'I really need a new robe.' His robes were brown, slightly raggedy and plain, plain as him. He had no braids, no fancy hair-dos, just plain old, neatly cleaned hair.|
He had gone into a daze and before they knew it, they were at the Dark Iron side of Ironforge. He nodded to the guards, glad in their dark armor and dark tabard, Barab growled to himself, grumbling lightly as they went in through the gate. Parab sighed, he hoped his brother would screw this up... They went into the first inn they could find, the hollow dark side of Ironforge, a slight chill to the twin brothers. As they entered the tavern, they were met with, amazingly enough, cheerful gulps, cheerful dwarves and many of them laughing aloud, when the twins entered, it didn't falter. Instead, all of the dark iron dwarves turned their black heads, their beady little eyes stared at the two Bronzebeard dwarves, then with a loud cheer a few of the dark irons got up, pulling ale from the counter and handing it the two.
Parab and Barab both smiled a toothy grin, going forward and meeting with the group they were suppose to meet with. In no time, they were sharing jokes, laughing together and chugging their ale. The Dark Irons engaged in a wrestling game, merely messing with each other. Barab and Parab engaged in this with each other aswell. In no time, they were both drunk and both walking to their homes. It had been a good day, infact a great day!
261 Years Ago, 4 Hours before the death of Anvilmar
Parab was lonely, for once. No one to talk too, Barab was guarding, and Father was working. There was nothing he could do, except walk through the lava heated, dark and beautiful city of Ironforge. He walked to the Great Anvil first. Staring at it as the dwarven men worked, the sweat on their bodies, the way they beat against the anvils and the great anvil itself. He had always wanted to do that, but he knew he couldn't. He didn't have the strength...
Parab had been walking for a while now, he had no idea how many hours. But nothing had changed, he was still lonly and still bored, he was thinking about going to read a book, just as a bell rang. It was a deep, saddening bell. Someone of importance had died.. He knew first who it was... a saddening wave of sadness waved over him, he turned around, towards the King's Throne, a tear running down his cheek but quickly dissolving into nothing due to the heat. King Anvilmar had died... Again, he knew something no one else knew... There would be war.
261 Years Ago, One Month before the death of Anvilmar
"Bah, Parab! Why do we ha' ta do this ne' ways? T'e Dark Irons are pompus! Snobby fools... Why can't we drink with ta Wildhammers? At least they're Honorable. These Dark Irons only care about one thing: Killin', killin' and killin'. Can't ye see this Parab?"
Parab Brewbeard sighs, his brother was always so rude and loud, then again, all the dwarves were like that! Except him and the few dwarves who didn't drink all the time... He didn't really mind though, he could still hold up to his name. Generally he'd turn around and walk off, but his brother was there to protect him. Parab was a stout, strong dwarf. But he was not trained in combat, his brother, Barab was a soldier in the guard, so he had skill.
Parab, wasn't a strong dwarf, but he was a smart dwarf. His mother had always praised him for being the smart one, knowing her boy was going to be a smart, non-drunk all the time dwarf! Parab lived to please his mother, his stout, short body a testament to that. He had helped around the house when she was sick.. Parab shook the thoughts of his mother out of his head, snagging his robe on something, growling slightly as he pulled it loose. Thinking to himself 'I really need a new robe.' His robes were brown, slightly raggedy and plain, plain as him. He had no braids, no fancy hair-dos, just plain old, neatly cleaned hair.|
He had gone into a daze and before they knew it, they were at the Dark Iron side of Ironforge. He nodded to the guards, glad in their dark armor and dark tabard, Barab growled to himself, grumbling lightly as they went in through the gate. Parab sighed, he hoped his brother would screw this up... They went into the first inn they could find, the hollow dark side of Ironforge, a slight chill to the twin brothers. As they entered the tavern, they were met with, amazingly enough, cheerful gulps, cheerful dwarves and many of them laughing aloud, when the twins entered, it didn't falter. Instead, all of the dark iron dwarves turned their black heads, their beady little eyes stared at the two Bronzebeard dwarves, then with a loud cheer a few of the dark irons got up, pulling ale from the counter and handing it the two.
Parab and Barab both smiled a toothy grin, going forward and meeting with the group they were suppose to meet with. In no time, they were sharing jokes, laughing together and chugging their ale. The Dark Irons engaged in a wrestling game, merely messing with each other. Barab and Parab engaged in this with each other aswell. In no time, they were both drunk and both walking to their homes. It had been a good day, infact a great day!
261 Years Ago, 4 Hours before the death of Anvilmar
Parab was lonely, for once. No one to talk too, Barab was guarding, and Father was working. There was nothing he could do, except walk through the lava heated, dark and beautiful city of Ironforge. He walked to the Great Anvil first. Staring at it as the dwarven men worked, the sweat on their bodies, the way they beat against the anvils and the great anvil itself. He had always wanted to do that, but he knew he couldn't. He didn't have the strength...
Parab had been walking for a while now, he had no idea how many hours. But nothing had changed, he was still lonly and still bored, he was thinking about going to read a book, just as a bell rang. It was a deep, saddening bell. Someone of importance had died.. He knew first who it was... a saddening wave of sadness waved over him, he turned around, towards the King's Throne, a tear running down his cheek but quickly dissolving into nothing due to the heat. King Anvilmar had died... Again, he knew something no one else knew... There would be war.