But the crimsoning dwarf, awed by the forces of the black hordes begins soon to scatter. Oh God ! His parents wont be proud of it! As a matter of fact the blood of his noble ancestors flows in his beard, isn’t it? And suddenly a lament coming out from nowhere but the deepest, darkest, blackest, most evil abyss broke up the silent of the night lightened by the magic and mystic powa of da rising moon.
“Gooooo!!!!
Go my dwarf !!! Fly on the wind of the wisdom! You must achieve your
tragic destiny for the salvation of the enchanted lands . You are the last
prophet announced by the black book of the dead of the deads ! You cannot escape
your fate and must fulfil the ancient words which have been already pronounced
!!! “
The
Dwarf turned to stone when he heard those mystical prophecies: “But…. But…
I’ am only a solitary dwarf !! I alone can't defeat the dark king Akrone,
brother of Takrone , the elder seventh son of the seventh gate , which is made
of pure ivory !! I must be helped !!”
“Ure right son of Gloïn brother of Barmud Oakenshield, and grandmother of Kelior-the-feared ! I will give you the holiest axe of the dwarven cottages : Its called “Planax” due to the teacher of philosophie who used to brandish it during the last middle-top-corner-War !! May you deserve this grand honour!”
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