Board Thread:Forum Roleplays/@comment-67.22.249.68-20150205232108/@comment-198.236.0.32-20150213012246

A cultist was sitting in the old tower of Irontoe South. Irontoe South was one of three fortified outposts in the Butcherblock Mountains that housed the final desperate soldiers of the Dwarven Irontoe brigade in their fruitless quest to retake Kaladim from the forces of Him. They failed, and their outposts, like every other Dwarven construct in the Butcherblock Mountains, were taken by His cultists.

And there was a cultist inside the tower when Glosur knocked the roof off. He looked up at the suddenly open sky above his head. "That's not right..."

He left to look outside. He peeked through the opening where the Dwarven barricades an  corpses lay broken. He saw a Dwarven corpse that certainly hadn't been there before. It looked like it was wearing silver armour. Then the Dwarf got up.

"That's really not right. Emergency! There's a living Dwarf! Get him! We must continue our master's work!"

The ghosts attacked Glosur, but he managed to fend them off long enough to start running. He was being pursued both by the tortured ghosts and risen bodies of his kin as well as savage looking men with truly barbaric and painful looking weaponry. As Glosur rounded around a mountain, he caught what once was certainly a spectacular sight. There was a set of large gates set into the mountains, atop which was a huge statue of a Dwarf. In one hand was an axe, and the other was raising a mug of ale. However, the eyes on the smiling Dwarf' s face were painted stark white. There were Dwarven corpses littering the ground in front of the gate. Despite the ruins being obviously very old, the corpses were rank and disgusting, as if caught in an eternal state of rot. Glosur saw a fortified bridge over a chasm leading to what might be a way out, but it was crawling with cultists. There was only one place to go; down into the chasm. As Glosur leapt down, he noticed the name of the chasm: King' s Rest. At the bottom there were more Dwarven corpses, but these were different. They wore stormy gray armor, and one corpse wore similar armor but adorned with blue crystals, and he had on a crown. As Glosur watched, the spirits of these Dwarves rose from their bodies. Glosur prepared to defend himself, but they didn't attack. Instead the King' s ghost spoke to Glosur.

"You are the last Dwarf left. You are our only hope. Climb the rope ladder over there, then flee along the road. It will lead you to a path down the cliff out of Butcherblock, and to the entrance to our former kingdom, an entrance controlled by a friendly force. Go, quickly! My elite Stormguard and I will hold them off long enough for you to escape. Once you leave, head to the Red City. Some old friends will be waiting for you there."

The king and his Stormguards locked shields, and the two groups of Dwarven ghosts fought each other. As Glosur ran toward the path which would lead to the fortress at the entrance, h  looked back. He watched as a mysterious figure appeared in the midst of the ghosts. With a flick of the hand, it dispelled all the King' s ghosts. Upon seeing him, Glosur was filled with inexplicable fear. But the being vanished, and Glosur made it to the fortress full of Red Kingdom knights at the bottom.