Growing up could have been an easier task for me. I could have lived the life of a prince and gotten anything I had ever wanted. This is not the way I wanted to live. I am Wolfgar, son of Darlion and a direct descendant of Garbear, one of the original Nine Lords of the Dwarven realm.
I was born a mere 48 years ago in the city of stone. Starting at age 4, I was quite a rascal. My mother was very close to the mother of my best friend and fellow descendant of the Nine, Kelgor. I wasn't always the nicest one to my friend. He and I regularly got into sparring matches and even though he was a bit bigger than I at the time, I usually proved victorious. I never hurt him TOO badly, though he and I regularly had broken knuckles. Like I said, quite a rascal.
My father and brother took great interest in my ability to last long in small child fights and they decided to start teaching me early on the ways of our family. You see, we are the barbarian clan of the Dwarves. We are usually the ones at the front lines in our animal hide armor slicing opponents into bits. We do this through the ability of channeling the animal within us which is what we Dwarves call Fury. Other barbarians throughout the land that I have met usually say Rage, Mania, Gall and Wrath but we stick with the animal approach.
For fifteen years I trained to commence and disengage the Fury within me, and my weapon of choice has been the two handed great battleaxe. There's nothing like the sheer power needed to expel the great force and damage that this weapon can dish out. I'm drifting into my own world with this, but I digress... Fifteen years of sparring, being beaten, commanded to do better, and learning to outlast truly makes you quite the warrior.
One day after a Grand Meeting of the Nine, the lords caught wind of an imminent attack coming in from the orcs. Even though we had driven the orcs out of Morag Munn, there were still clans of orcs who would come and make small attacks. It seems that they had all made an alliance and were going to try to take us down one more time with a war party of 500. Rallying up ready for battle, my kin and myself got ready for front line action. I sharpened my axe and my brother, his blade. My cousins joined in, uncles, aunts, sons and daughters.
In the beginning of the battle, there stood 50 from the Duran clan in the front. Roars of lions and bears echoed through the cave, howls of dogs and wolves, and we started walking. We saw as the army about 10 times our size came running in. Through furious slashes and stabs they tried to break our line, but in the end they had failed. The 50 of us had held back well over 300 orcs by the time it was all said and done. The rest of the war party behind us finished off the remaining as the orc scum retreated. That was my first battle and I will always remember how gratifying it was. I have not seen much action since.
Fast forward to today. Many dwarves have gone missing, and these dark skinned elves are to blame. I was told to reach the woman called Theressa and I have found her. Throughout my travels with her and the rest of the party, we have been given a great quest to unite Terran Kor against what is looking like a major fight against chaos. My hope is that we can succeed in this and have peace within Terran Kor once more.