Grymm sighs, as he walks over, a simple stone blacksmith's hammer engraved with Minderhal's holy symbol, hanging from his belt. His focused green eyes scan the room, until it lands on his companions grouped at one table. However, he looks uncomfortable in the noble outfit that he is garbed in, as he stretches the collar on his doublet. Hopefully, it will not be your last meal.Ī 4' tall, stocky dwarf, enters the room, his signature blood-red hair and beard, immaculately maintained as always.
So while you await to hear the grim news, as it is always grim, you enjoy a feast in your honor in the dwarven hall.
But this seems different, the level of concern genuine and palpable. In your recent travels, you've heard rumors of armies of giants amassing under one banner under the rule of a being called the Storm Tyrant and an imminent attack is coming, but you've heard these same rumors for decades and these types of plans have never come to fruition. No matter the reason, your dwarven friend has called in his favor to join him in Kraggodan and you have responded.Īs great heroes of skill and renown, you have been summoned urgently as there is a dire menace afoot that only your skills can prevent - or as you may think, just another day in your adventuring life. Perhaps you went adventuring together for years or saved each other's life or were indebted to each other. You each received a summons from Grymm Bloodstone, a fellow adventurer, whom you have met in your traveling careers. You find yourselves today in feasting hall of Greathammer Bastion in the dwarven Sky Citadel of Kraggodan in Nirmathas, guests of Prince Gorm Greathammer.
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