Brudaghast (prime)
Brudaghast & Rustybeard MacMutrie
Clan MacMutrie Exerpts From the Chronicle of the Sons of Laird Mutrien, the Clan MacMutrie
The latter-day Chronicle of Clan MacMutrie of the Year of Onar's Boon 573, as remember'd by its current High Chiefton, Laird Brudaghast MacMutrie.
By the beard of me forefathers, I will try an' chronicle faithfully the history of Clan MacMutrie as I ha'e heard it, an' parts, as I ha'e seen it meself, fer nae a stylus ha'e been taken tae the pages here fer menny a lon' year.
As ye may ha'e read befer, long ago, in an age nigh seven generations ago by my reckonin', the Clan of MacMutrie received a commission o' the most serious import. In that age, we were a clan best known fer its skill in faergin' fine an light blades a' the finest metals in Elanthia. Upon a day in that age, our Laird and chief of our clan was erdered by Onar, Lord of Assassins, faithful lieutenant of Luukos tae faerge a blade of most fell paerpose. The blade was tae be an assassin's blade fer an incaernation of Onar hi'self, charged by his laird tae wreck his stealthy and bloody havoc among the gods, avatars, and chosen of the Liabo pantheon.
In th' age and the age after the sword was made, its was baern by this Fell and Dark God of Shadows in the lands of Elanthia. Tis known that t'was dropped in his battles an' escapades, en by calous faertune lost. Upon tha' very day twas lost, Laird Aertraech MacMutri, Son of Laird Mutrien o' famous maemory, proclaimed it the duty o' our clan's tae keep watch for the blade and reclaim it if nae but a god did stand in our way. But lost or nae, fer our service in making The Assassin's Throatripper, Onar hast wrought a blessin' epon our Clan, that ever sae long as one clansman in each generation does belong tae the Black Guard of the MacMutrie Clan, the clan will nae know dissolution. An' so, althou' in worship, our clan honors Koar in strength and statelyness, Cholen in revelry, and the other fair and dark gods alike in due portion, so long as our clan continues tae recognize its duty to proper, just, and honest revenge as well as its fealty to the laird of the arts of stealthy retribution, the survival of the clan is assured.
As a token a' this boon, Onar has given tae the clan two tomes of mystical and powerful arcana. Together they bare the substance of our bless'd heritage. In one, baern in your own hands if ye be reading here, the continuing history of the clan is written, as a testament tae the benefits of Onar's favor. The tome ye baer, the fine vellum pages made of the leathery skins of unhatched myklian lizards ye with reverence turn, also bares the secrets Onar hast given tae our clan, tae be revealed to each clansmen upon the day of their titling. This tome is presented tae and baern by the youngest titled laird of the clan who then becomes the Chronicler of the Clan, a place of most esteemed honor. The other tome hast of eld baern the names of every MacMutrie clansmen, and all those inscribed within share in Onar's boon whether natural born tae the clan er fostered upon their wish. It hast since Onar bestowed the boon, been baern by the Chief of the clan hi'self and by noone other. Every baerth and fosterage is within noted, so that Onar's favor is shared by all. The duty it is to scribe upon tha' book is, by right an title, baern by the black kilted clerics amongst our clan brethren, who alone bear a tartan oother than the clan's traditional deepest azure, in honor o' er clans true Lornon patron.
Althou' this is the history of our glorious past, it cannae be said that it is the reality in which we live now. In an age past now, our clan met with grave misfertune. Long had we made war upon the Reivers, fer it tis nae doubt and well known that the steading of Luinne Beinne does set upon a large part of our ancestral lands. A'course it had nae been used by us fer some yearn, but twas nae fergotten by we dwarves. And so, as the lessons of Onar taught us, we warred upon the Reivers when they brough' their stinkin' rolton tae live on our fine mountainsides. The obstinate currs did take from us our birthright and did baer the brunt of our righteous revenge.
After one of these battles wi' the Reivers, when our warriors were recoverin' in their halls, we were set upon by hoards of Krolvin. Hundreds of Mercenary apish Krolvin, with their Warfarer lairds set upon and berned the halls. Our clan was thrown asunder intae the werld, many as wee baern untutored and unfostered. Much later we discovered that the Reivers, in order tae avert the Krolvin onslaught that was no doubt headed towards their own sheepcoates, themselves betrayed us tae the Krolvins, buying the diversion with cattle and stolen dwarven silver, and with the promise of the greater treasures of our halls of which until then, the Krolvin had never heard. It was this treachery that caused our near annihilation. Only the boon of Onar himself saved our clan from dissolution that fateful day. For this betrayal, an to this day, I ha'e vowed to ravage the Reivers of Luinne Binne an' tae see our clan revenged upon it, repayin' the deeds of that foul day past. For years I have spent days on campaign warring upon the Reivers in stealthy assaults, my clan but few in number and young. One day perhaps, we claim it as our home, for upon my honor, and what reputation I bear, when our clan is once more strong, its halls swelled with warriors, I will lead an army of my clansmen unto the Reivers and see them pay for their misdeed.
For that day, tae the chagrin of my dyin' father, and to our sundered clan, both tomes were thought to ha'e been lost in the fire and mayhem. This tome however, the greater of the two that bare the power of our clan, was spared from the fire by Brastius Dwarf-Friend, an orphan bastard, or half elf, fostered by our clan out of pity, and out of respect for the fosterling's arcane talents. He in turn mentored me, the only remaining member of chieftans family of Clan MacMutrie. It is tae him tha' ye owe the honor ye have o' reading this me scrawl upon this arcane tome.
Since the fell day o' our discomfiture, a number of our clan have risen tae once more fill the ranks of warriors lost in ages past. Of them, Rustybeard, my sister-son, has come of age and is a recognized laird of Elanthia. This Tome of Onar and our history is tae be his upon these last few scriblings of mine. He is yet a dwarf o' such promise as few hae been tae our clan, for he hast set his skills upon the recovery o' Onar's blade as no oother has in recent memory. Other clansmen have found their way back to the fold, guided by their kith and kin tae rejoin Clan MacMutrie and make it strong once more. Two young clansmen vie for the honor of becoming the next Chronicler of our clan, Airechtach and Rumbleguts, both warriors of tender years.
However, the story does not end here, for the other tome, the Cheiftan's tome containing the Bless'd Rolls of Clan MacMutrie, till events most recent, had been assumed lost for good. Such it was until my dearest friend, Lord Evrem, in his continual forays against our enemy the Krolvin, did find the book in his travails. The redoubtable fellow of elven blood make ready and returned the arcane tome to the clan upon the event of my own wedding feast. Indeed, the book had not been lost to fire or sword, but had been stolen by the marauding Krolvin who, though apishly stupid, had had the instinct to notice its inherent power and value.
And such is my small part of the Chronicle of my clan. Now that I bear the tome that within it bears the names of all my ancestors and their kith and kin, I can begin to go out into the world and seek the sons and daughters of our clansmen long lost, wherever they may be. Many young dwarves appear on the rolls in the years preceeding the fall of the clan. I have hopes tae find them. Norwena Naymay and her kin Nanthalie Senes do surely appear here in the tome, and thou' their parents did die in the attack on the dwarfhome, they are nae accounted fer. Others too, reckoning by the names unaccounted fer, dozens perhaps, may yet be waiting to be reclaimed so that our halls may yet be filled once mar with strong dwarven calls for feast and battle. An' I shall invite them to join once more and share in our bless'd heritage and inheritance. On my way, I shall no doubt find other Dwarves with nae a clan tae call their own, and they I shall foster and write their names too upon the tome of my ancestors.
May our enemies once more learn to fear us, an' may our clan once more know the taste and discipline of revenge.
The present Chronicle of Clan MacMutrie in the Year of Onar's Boon 574. as scribe'd by Laird Rustybeard 'Gutstompers' (that to me chagrin hast become me epithet amongst me brethren) MacMurtri, bearer o' the Tome of Chronicle o' me clan upon me receipt o' it from me ooncle o' fine repute, Laird Brudaghast MacMutri, chiefton o' er clan.
By the beard of me forefathers, I will try an' chronicle faithfully the recent events and travails concerning Clan MacMutrie as I ha'e witnessed it, en' tae me pride, been part of as well.
Of matters of the clan it is of great import to note that Laird Tarkstruff of good fame hast been reunited with his clan and once maer bears the tartan of the MacMutries. He is well welcomed amist his kith and kin.
An' yet, the occasion for this entry tis maer tae reveal the marvel o' this years events, in which I bear nae small part. Twas in the fall o' the year me Ooncle did grant to me the traditional boon o' me callin' in the clan, the tome upon I now write, that what hast been me life's quest did coome tae en inter'sting conclusion, tae the glory o' er clan. As me ooncle as faithfully scribe'd it had been me life's work tae find the Throatripper, Onar's blade, an' in doing so, achieve what me ancestor o' famous memory had required o' his descendants. It was nae a calling I took lightly, naer was't one I took withou' hopes of attaining. Me ooncle had upon a time searched for it as wast his calling, bearing himself tae Teras and tae faerther reaches tae hear tales o' the blade by elders o' foreign dwarven clans; those that would have en eye fer a dwarven faerged blade worthy o' a fell Lornon God. But his travails were, as others ha'e been fer generations, fer nought. Oonly this had he discovered, that other rogues of ancient repute and notable skill, whose devotions to Onar were of the most serious and lethal sort, were also looking to lay claim on the blade. A fact that sat with him soorly.
Twer it nae fer a chance, a mere happenstance, that in a battle with those Denizens o' the rift, the Vvrael, I caught sight o' that most glorious o' quarry, the blade might still be lost tae us. I wast comin' tae see fer meself how me ooncle had fared against the strange creatures that clawed their way from the rifts, for this time they appeared amidst the catacombs and temple cloisters o' Sheru where Brudaghast was oft wont to tarry. I must admit I entertained a hasty thought tha' perchance I was tae weild my blade an' take me risks besides waerriors much mar experienced then meself. The fate o' a desperate Dark Elf, set upon by such fell beasts as were there in this strange otherwordly invasion, did catch me attention. Ye might think twas tae quell me desire to hasten too frowardly into the frey, but twas maer that he drew in his desperation the very blade o' me ancestral faerge. With the deadly hiss o' dwarven steel o'tha deepest magiks did the blade sing from its sheath. An' the cold lethal efficiency which attended the Elf in his short battle with the Harbingers that beset him twas ell that was needed tae convince me tha' the blade he bore twas the Assassin's Throatripper. An' twas the almost frightened look o' surprise on the Dark Elf's face after the Harbingers lay with their jugular's pooring forth their corrupted icor that made me think tha' e'en he dinnae know what he bore in truth.
An so I endeavored tae track the elf as me oonly quarry till the blade wast back in the hands o' the Clan. I did befriend the fellow, Fandryl by name, tae find tha' he had come upon the blade by mere happenstance, an' he claimed twas to him something of suspicious luck. I did hear him tell tales that since he had pilfered the blade from the affects o' a corpse held to be a great murderer slain by constables after committing some of the most daring an' heinous murders seen in Rivers Rest. The assassin, he reported, had slain some dozen pilgrims who had travelled by way of that port. He remembered plainly the image of a skull blazoned, thou' mayhaps nae tatoo'd upon the murderer's slashed en' bloodied shoulder. The images haunt'd him, as did images o' shadows following him by night, en' by the echo of the faintest o' sounds, seemingly always just beyond earshot, trailing him by day in e'en the most secluded o' groves en paths. I did entertain the idea that he spoke of me, for I did trail him a day or two before making his acquaintance. But his tale wast o' weeks en months, nae days. An' so, twas nae too difficult that he saw fit to grant me the boon of this most prized heirloom and fell blade. Thou' payment twas expected, twas the idea that he hadst found an artifact o' such grave importance that convinced Fandryl to give over the blade, en I believe it wast by him seen prudent, given tha' fell nature o' those who searched for't.
To this day, an' to the glory o' me clan, the blade now sets in the possession of a Clansman of Laird Mutrien, the faerger o' the blade o' Onar. En' tae me paersonal glory, tis I who have been chosen, by the command o' me ooncle and er Chiefton, tae baer the blade in honor o' me service in tis recovery.
Tis hard upon this enscription, that this tome will once maer be passed from my hands to those o' another. Tis indeed the case that Norwena Naymay has been prove'd a clanswoman by baerth and ist now tae be reunited with us. It hast been said tae me, by my Mother-Brother, Laird Brudaghast, tha' Norwena is tae be also enjoined to the order and discipline of the Black Guard, en mar importantly, ist now the youngest laird in er Clan. An so tae her I leave this Chronicle, but held by me a scant few months, en yet I hope me contribution is as to be as glorious an addition as tae e'er be found within its pages.
May our enemies come to know of the reasons to fear us, now that our clan once more knows the taste and discipline of revenge, en bears the weapon that hast given us such devotion.
Those who migh'n be int'rest'd en our Clan er this Chronicle kin send scrolls to jdmmmm@aol.com
May Onar hide ye from yer enemies! May Cholen make yer paths merry! And may Koar strengthen our Clan from this day until the end of the werld!
Brudaghast MacMutrie