A Dwarven Perspective

[Brummbär]

Located thirty minutes away from Holdfast off the beaten trail is Brummbär’s wagon; It is about the size of a medium shed, with the wheels burnt long ago to fuel the forge inside it. His wagon is gripped by various mosses and vines hanging down from the surrounding forest; Despite the exposure to the elements it is in surprisingly good condition. The sides have a quite faded picture of a cheerful dwarf holding a hammer and axe.

Brummbär is alone, sat on a banquette sized tree stump beneath the stars. The cool overcast night is doing very little to ease his troubles, with the events of that fateful weekend still raging fresh in his mind; He is repeatedly hearing the screams from the attack of the constructs and the hollow faces of Emellia and Amber’s ghosts. He never expected two of his new friends to perish so soon, let alone in his sight. While he is struggling to sort through a mess of papers by candlelight, the ever present voice in the shadows of his mind lingers; With a voice like the edge of a cold blade it demands blood be spilt to avenge the fallen; Brummbär can only stare aimlessly into the darkness as the night goes on…