The Dwarves of Clan Lostforge
by Samriah Lostforge

One of the most infamous of all dwarves was the famed smith Dhurik, First Smith of the Granite River Clan. Dhurik sold the forging secrets of "gazak-gizil dugr" to agents of the Nalfein elves. The Nalfein gave Dhurik a pile of gold and a home in their city, for he could never return to his people after such treachery. The Nalfein promptly resold half the secret (what we know today as damage weighting) to the Illistim, and half to the Vaalor (crit weighting).

It was not long before the Clan learned of what Dhurik had done, and they were appalled. Every male dwarf in Clan Granite River shaved his beard, but that was not enough atonement. The OverKing himself declared the Clan anathema, basically excommunicating them. The Clan would not be reinstated until they brought him the head of Dhurik and slew every elf to whom the First Smith had spoken.

When it was discovered that Dhurik was being sheltered by the Nalfein, the dwarves armed and marched east. They came down out of the mountains into the lands of the Vaalor. Some of the elves could only watch in amazement and amusement at the tightly packed formation of downcast, surly dwarves that marched through their lands. The dwarves did not pillage, but the leaders of Ta'Vaalor would not stand for an army- even one that sang dirges as they marched- passing through their lands. There were some among the Nalfein who counseled war, but the Ar'Cantyr (Patriarch) of Ta'Nalfein had agents among the Vaalor, and knew that the fate of the Elf Kingdoms hung by a thread.

The dwarves passed within a days march of Ta'Vaalor, and there were beginning to be problems. A few skirmishes erupted, and the situation had at last become deadly. Of course, the Nalfein knew the orders of both armies. Although the Vaalor would certainly defeat the dwarves, there was no guarantee they would stop them before reaching the borders of Nalfein Lands. War would not serve the best interests of the merchants. So, at the last minute, the patriarch of Nalfein relented- even as the cavalry of Vaalor was about to strike at the dwarven flank.

The general of the Vaalorian cavalry owed a favor to a Nalfein nobleman, and so was persuaded to postpone his attack. Nalfein assassins moved, slew Dhurik, and the First Smith's body was quickly brought to the dwarven chieftain in the field. The Vaalor had no real desire to battle the folk who had built their impregnable fortress of Shadowguard, and the dwarves were not keen to fight the elves, most of whom were equipped with dwarf-made armor and weapons. Smiling Nalfein diplomats were soon able to defuse the situation (while somehow managing to escape all blame).

The army of Clan Granite River turned and marched back into the mountains. They delivered the head of Dhurik to the OverKing, but were unable to contain the spread of the secrets of gazak-gizil dugr. As punishment, the OverKing took the sacred Rune Forge, symbol of the Clan.

From that day onward, the Granite River Clan was known as Clan Lostforge.

Warriors of Clan Lostforge served with great valor and sacrifice at the Battle of Maelshyve, winning the respect of the Vaalor and redeeming themselves in the eyes of the OverKing.

A Giantman History
by Giantphang Obrhgror'rts'r

There once was a Faendryl Elf, who had many slaves, ranging from trolls to dwarves. A particular Giantman slave was this lady Elf's personal favorite, not that she let on any. One of his duties was to organize scrolls for her. Since he had no business knowing how to read, these scrolls were color coded in order for him to better be able to put them on their proper shelves.

Now...this particular Faendryl lady was intoxicated with power, more so than most Faendryl, as unbelievable as this might seem. She used, among other things, sex as a means of control. The majority of her slaves, elves had no chance of breeding with, Giantmen, however, were a different story. Although the chances were small, luck was not with this woman. She became pregnant, unbeknownst to her, by the Giantman. As the baby grew in her womb, it became apparent that this was no ordinary elven baby. It was assumed by all that she would bear twins.

When the baby came to term, much to the dismay of all the Faendryl involved, the baby was indeed a half breed. Half Giant, and half Faendryl Elf. Being Faendryl, the people immediately made plans to drown the baby, as that was, and still is, the custom of Faendryl and half breed babies. The Giantman got word of the baby's birth, and knew that it was indeed his child. He knew of the custom of the Faendryl, and made the decision to save his baby and free himself.

This Giantman had held something back during his entire slavery to the Faendryl woman. He knew how to read, and could, in fact, read and recite spells from scrolls. He made sure nobody was looking, grabbed the necessary scrolls, and hurried off to the place where the baby was to be drowned.

Before he entered the room he took out a scroll and invoked a powerful teleportation spell. The Faendryl in attendance were so enthralled with what was about to take place that they did not notice the Giant sneak into the room until it was too late. Once he got close enough, he ran full speed, grabbed the child, and cast the spell he had prepared. Before the elves could even lift a finger, the Giant and his child were half way across the realm. Another scroll was taken out, and a series of unpresence and invisibility spells were cast to cloak the location of the pair.

The Giantman waited a number of hours, until the spells wore off, to make sure it was safe. He then prepared the last spell on his last scroll. The spell changed both his, and his baby’s shape into that of a pair of wolves. In this form, the pair ran many hundreds of miles. When the spell’s duration finally ended, the father felt sure that he and his son would not be found. He took the baby through the woods, and eventually found an abandoned cabin. It was in this cabin that he raised the boy. He decided to name the child Giantphang, as a reminder of the time they spent as wolves.

They lived happily for many years, Giantphang and his "pappy" did. He taught young Phang many things. He taught him morals, and respect, and responsibility. He taught him how to read, and how to fight, and how to hunt. He was, however, a slave all of his life, and still had the mentality of a slave. This mentality, he inadvertantly passed on to his child. While Giantphang followed his father’s teaching without fail, even when it might benefit him to do so, he would not deviate from it one iota. Not only that, but because of his somewhat limited intellect, he did not understand alot of things he was taught and took them quite literally. Still, they were very happy, and had no desire to seek out other people.

As Giantphang got older, he would go on long hunts, ranging from two days to a full week. One day, a week or so before the first snowfall of winter was due to fall, young Phang, now 18 years old, set off for one such hunt. It proved bountiful, and five days later he walked in the door with three full sized wolverine carcasses slung over his shoulder. "Pappy an me will eat goods fer weeks!" thought Giantphang as he entered the cabin. Suddenly, he dropped the trophies from his weeks hunt on the floor and broke into a sprint. He ran the few yards across the cabin to his father’s lifeless corpse, and collapsed over it.

He cried for days, lonely, confused, afraid, not knowing what to do. His father had taught him about the Faendryl. One of the things he had learned was how the Faendryl excecuted people. When he found his father, his throat was slit. A Faendryl cerimonial dagger was laid upon his chest, and the blade was dripping with a mixture of blood and poison. This poison was so potent that it would immediately kill the victim, even if the corpse was raised from death. Giantphang knew there was no hope for his father and mourned his loss.

After many days, he decided he must leave. He did not know where he was going, but he wasn’t about to think about such trivial things. He knew he had to go, and go he did, but not before taking a fly from off the corpse of his father. "Such a brave fly", he thought ", to stand guard over pappy’s corpse so long until me got backs! Me will take him wif me, an him will be my friend".

Giantphang ran for weeks, until, finally, he ended up outside the gates of Wehnimer’s Landing. He made a home for himself in the Landing and, while the natives thought a Giantman waving a dead fly around was rather odd, they deemed him no more odd than half of the Landing’s other residents and took him into the community.

To this day you can find Giantman and his "warfly" Mel sitting on the porch steps of Hearthstone manner, singing songs, telling stories, chatting with friends, and of course, eating pie. Pie, after all, is "like tarts, only fer mister Giants! Pappy teached me dat!".

Giantphang still lives by his father’s teachings today. He can read and write, speak Trollish fluently (learned by his father from a troll who was also a slave of his mother’s), and of course, he addresses people in a very respectful manner. By his own words, "Pappy says dat me should calls mister everybody mister an tha end of their name for cuz its respectful ta does dat! When me’s speakin to a miss, of course me calls dem miss and not mister, but when me’s speakin to a group of mixed up peoples, me calls dem mister by myfault! Das what pappy says anways." Although popular belief dictates that his father’s intentions were for him to call people mister and their LAST name, he seems to think its the end of their first name that is polite. Further, that last bit about being by "Myfault" is believed to actually be default.

In any event, that is the story of Giantphang and his fearsome warfly Mel. As for his mother, Giantphang has been heard saying, "Me not knows nuffin bout where momma is. Me tinks if her wanned me dead her woulda splatted me when her gots pappy wif dat icky dagger thingy. Me not knows what her looks like or nuffin, but if me ever come across her, me’ll sure splat her goods wif me’s warclaidh!" That concludes the tale as it is to be told here, however in the lands, nothing is ever truly over.