Board Thread:Fun and Games/@comment-25344655-20141207183714/@comment-25344655-20141207193117

Actually...

Glosur was still in pain, the loss of his family had hit him hard. The orc arrow didn't help much either. He was 30, a wee young age for a dwarf, and he was nearly killed by those invasions.

-At Glosur's old fishing village on the southern tip of the blues-

Glosur was heading back from his duties as guardsman on the borders of Corlorin, when a horn blew. He had nothing but leather armor and an iron axe, so he could de nothing but retreat to his family's home. His brother met with him, Glorin. When they arrived they found his mother headless on the floor, and their dad lie dead on the floor surrounded by dozens of dead orcs. Glosur just fell to his knees, and was quiet. After a while, they where just healing with the loss when Glorin went silent. Glosur turned to see an arrow in his back, he fell, dead. Glosur, filled with rage picked up his fathers axe, put on his ancestors armor, Silver decorated with Mithril and gold. He charged into the orc ranks, rallying the few guards they had.

"Archers, ready!" Glosur said, filled with rage.

"Fire!"

At that, the force of 40 charged the army of 250. Dwarves and elves clashed against orcs, Glosur ripped through the orc ranks and was taking no caution to his health. Bad idea, an orc blade caught him in the side, in a weak link in his armor. He had to flee.

"Fall back! Abandon the city! Fall back!"

-end flashback-

Glosur remembers an odd creature walking in to the medical room when he fell into darkness...