User:Armond/Rifnor backstory

This is the backstory for Rifnor, a character I'm playing in the Adventure in Talmirah campaign.

Before the adventure
"South! To the south!" Rifnor cried, raising his waraxe and looking over his shoulder. A swarm of dwarves rushed out of the caverns behind him, some carrying the bodies of their fallen, some stepping over the bodies of their foes, but most rallying behind him. Without wasting any more time, Rifnor began his southward charge.

The army made their way through the tunnels, weapons clanking against shields and armor rustling and clinking as they ran. Rifnor rounded a bend and let out a bellow that was echoed by his companions as they thundered into battle. Within seconds, his axe had felled one orc and cleaved through another. He turned his head to look for an important target and sighted another three orcs closing in on two unarmed dwarves. With a fierce battlecry, he sprang in between the orcs, taking one blow on his shield and one on his chain shirt, and hacked at the knees of the one closer to him. It toppled over with a cry, and he silenced it with an axe to the chest. Taking advantage of his momentum and one of the other orcs' surprise, he whirled around and felled a second orc in a single mighty blow. The final orc ignored the dwarf completely and dashed after the easier pray. Muttering a curse under his breath, he invoked an arcane cantrip and caused a burst of light on the lenses of the orc's eyes. It stopped in its tracks, howling, blinded by the glare, and scratching at its eyeballs, as Rifnor moved behind it and dug into its side and back with his axe.

Just then, a voice echoed through the minds of all those present. Cease this futility and drop your weapons before I invoke the wrath of the lords of flame upon you all!

Undeterred, Rifnor turned and sighted, not far from him, the mind flayer that was commanding the attack. He charged again, raised his axe, and shouted aloud "In the name of Moradin, begone!"

With a single stroke, two tentacles fell to the ground. The mind flayer immediately cast some sort of spell and flew high above the heads of the dwarves. It looked down upon Rifnor, giving him a look of deepest loathing, and spoke directly into his mind. You were lucky this time, dwarf, but when I return, you and your family shall be the first I make into slaves!

"Go on then, come back and fight us, I say!" Rifnor shouted at its retreating back.

Within minutes, the rest of the orcs had fled or been killed, and quiet visited the cavern. The attack was over; the orcs had dealt well with the split forces, but it had not been without losses. Before he could worry about his own men, however - especially the ones he'd seen being carried out earlier - he had to find out the fate of the civilians they had been protecting.

He made his way through the army to a sturdy house where most of the civilians had taken cover. He knocked and listened for the bar being removed from the inside before opening the door. The faces of several dozens of dwarves greeted him, all apparently unharmed and eager for news. He raised his hands to quiet the oncoming babble and said, in a deep voice, "We routed the orcs and their leader, but we lost some of our men in the process. Unless anyone here has been harmed, I'm going to go out now and check our losses." When no one called for help, he turned around and walked back out the door.

"Jelengar!" he called into the midst of the army.

A single human, tall even for his race and especially for the dwarves, broke apart from the masses and made his way towards the dwarven leader.

"Commander Rifnor, we lost ten dwarves, and another score are wounded. The clerics are seeing to them now," the human reported, in a swift, northern accent. "We've moved those we can against the eastern wall."

The dwarf nodded and moved eastwards, followed by dozens of worried civilians. As he approached the wall, he saw around a dozen dwarves leaned against the stone - the rest of the score were, presumably, too injured to move. Two clerics were moving amongst the injured, invoking Moradin's grace and strength to heal them.

Rifnor moved to help the closest injured dwarf. He saw that it was Ordok, perhaps fifty or fifty-five years old - quite young for a dwarf - and one of the newer members of the army. Ordok looked up and recognized his superior, breathing Rifnor's name through shallow breath.

"It's all right, son, I've got you." Rifnor placed one hand behind the youngster's head to support him and the other on a spear wound in his side. With a quick word to the Soul-Forger, the wound was healed.

"Rifnor," the recruit repeated. "Forgive me."

"What needs forgiving, soldier?" Rifnor asked, the gruffness in his voice becoming more pronounced again. "You did well - I saw you take on two orcs at once. Your father would be proud of the use to which you're putting his sword."

The sword fighter shook his head. "I was cowardly. The two orcs sneaked up behind me. I only had time to trade blows with one of them before I ran. The other threw his spear at me."

Rifnor helped the younger dwarf up. "Ah, come now, don't ye think I've done worse? We all get spooked in battle. You took down one of the orcs before running - I saw you do that, and believe me, that's more than I did my first battle."

Ordok smiled. "What did you do, sir?"

The paladin laughed. "Me! Why, I walked right into a pair of orcs. Wasn't watching what I was doing. Next thing I knew, there was an axe clanging on my helmet and my legs were carrying me as far away from the battle as possible. I got one back, though. Hit him right in the back with my throwing axe. Fell like a sack of coal."

Ordok smiled. "I knew it, commander. You always make the men feel better about themselves."

Rifnor shook his head. "It's all I can do, soldier, so I have to do my best at it."

At that moment Jelengar returned. "Ordok. I'm glad to see you feeling better." He turned to the paladin. "Commander, if you have the time, I have important news from the surface."

Rifnor helped the healed man up, sent him to help with the rest of the wounded as best he could, and followed Jelengar to a more private area down a few corridors. "What's happened?"

The human's face was grim. "The Eldamirians have fallen. It's just as the elf predicted: a sudden sandstorm, a sudden calm, and sand creatures unlike anything seen before. The human king is promising a reward for any information on the attack. He's asked for you, specifically, to take a look into it, if you can."

The dwarf nodded. "I'll make preparations to leave as soon as I can. You're in command of the army until I get back."

The human nodded, his jaw set. "Here - take this crossbow. It should serve you well above the surface."

Rifnor accepted the gift, surprise on his face. "I thought you said this was a gift from your parents?"

Jelengar shrugged. "I've used it often enough, and it'll do more good in your hands than mine. Use it well, commander."

The dwarf nodded, thanked his companion once again, and left. He cleaned his weapon and armor, and within a day, had left the safety of the underground.

History
Rifnor was born and raised in the dwarven lands of Kane. His family moved around a lot, so he never developed a deep tie to any particular city. When he was fifty, he was enrolled in Kane's underground army. After serving as a solder for a few years, he felt that Moradin had asked him to do more. He meditated with the clergy for weeks, undergoing holy rituals and learning religious texts to become a paladin.

With Moradin's blessings and his own vows of virtues, Rifnor steadily grew more powerful helping the army fight off the creatures of the underdark. As he demonstrated exceptional leadership abilities, the army saw fit to promote him through the ranks. He is currently a commander in the army.

It has been a long time since Rifnor has seen his parents - the duties of the army, combined with this new threat, mean that he is not likely to see them any time soon, either.