Eye of the Dragonlance
Mountain Dwarf Barbarian
It angers me so. I am the daughter of the great warrior mountain dwarf, Thorin Ironfist, and the eldest of thirteen children. For being a daughter, I have been mocked and tormented all my life. Warriors in the Ironfist Clan are expected to only have sons as firstborn! Simply by entering this world, I have brought my family shame. But I was still taught how to be a fighter. My father knew I would be picked on and teased throughout my life between being a girl and being short (even for a dwarf), and he knew I would need the knowledge and the skill to fight for my honor. At least that is what I tell myself. My father rather speaks to me, but he has allowed my brothers and kin to torment me and fight me … and I have become the best fighter of them all.
The Ironfist Clan was one of the founders of the Stone Quarter in Verallia, and our stonework is well renowned. We are said to be in tune with Nature and some of the woman are said to have a special gift with animals and can work with the animals to find the best stone, gems and anything our Clan needs. I am one such person. However, in my Clan’s eyes, this has only further proven that I am not legitimate and that I should be passed over for the Clan’s leadership when my father passes.
As founders of the Stone Quarter, our Clan always receives an invitation to the Tourney at The Habbakuk Masquerade. But much to the dismay and shame of the Ironfist Clan, we have never won. It is said within our Clan that The Tourney has become tainted by thieves, outcasts and halflings. Whether this is true or simply an excuse to justify our shame, I do not know; but this year, I turned 100 and reached the age of eligibility to participate in the Clan’s Warrior Games. There have been few women who fought in the Warrior Games, and never one that was said to also have a gift of Nature. My participation was protested, but every member of our Clan has the right to participate when they turn 100, and so I was allowed in. I have fought many battles in my hundred years – some against my family and some with them, depending on the enemy – but The Clan’s Warrior Games were the hardest. I am a fighter, I am a scraper … but when enraged, I will win no matter what. I fought in the Games, and I won, but at such a cost. When my only friend Adrik entered the fray, I did not see him – just another competitor between me and my rage. He will never walk or fight again, and I’m not sure what use the clan has for a mouth that cannot fight. There was no cheerful send off or the traditional party for me. I thought I saw my father smile briefly when I won but that was the only person who appeared in any way happy. I snuck away at night with what I could carry and snatched a scrap of cloth from an old banner that hangs in the Great Hall of my home so I may always remember where I came from. There is little for me there now, but perhaps I will return one day.
In the end, I won the right and invitation to The Tourney and I will fight to the bitter end. Any who stand in my way will feel the wrath of the Ironfist. I will bring home the The Eye of the Dragonlance and bring my clan and myself the honor we deserve.
Bardryn, I know you and I have often quarreled, but I trust you will deliver this letter to my father and intercede on my behalf. Tell my clan I will fight, and I will win, but when or if I return, we will have a different conversation than those we’ve had before. My anger has claimed many, and I fear it will do so again, be their name Ironfist or any other. With deepest respect – Liftrasa