Monday, September 15, 2014


As a beardling, Olchobar ventured from his people, living upon the Sea of Erun. He traveled into the distant west. He crossed vast plains and climbed the staggered slopes of hills until he came to a snow capped chain of mountains. Finally, he settled in a small cave upon a ledge overlooking the western valleys and the never ending forest of the Ethvold. He lusted for a power he did not possess. He saw the eastern Kings in their halls of stone and the lords of dwarf and man, and he cursed his common fate.

He lived thus, steeped in envy, for many long years. In time, the cold weathered him, and the forest called to him. He longed for warmth.

This is how the Red God found him, laying out the road before him. “How now, brother. It is cold in this cave, and the power that is yours lies in yonder wood.” The Red God could see the embers of envy in Olchobar’s eyes, and the dwarf, thin and drawn, turned to the Red God. “I am frail and have no weapons, nor gift of the All Father to give.” The Red God sighed, “That is not so Olchobar for I have breathed upon you and no blade, no circumstance but one may end your life. Moreover, I have given you cunning beyond that of any mortal alive, and it is a gift you may use to your benefit.”

Suddenly, Olchobar saw the madness of the Red God’s wisdom, and the world unfolded before him. He slipped down the mountains and left his cave to dwell in the warmth of the spring’s bloom. And with him, he brought a terror of murder to the Ethvold for many years to come.

No comments: