Far away in the iron hills, there lived an old dwarf by the name of Vitnar. Very little dwarf younglings knew him, because he withdrew easily in his home, resting and sparing his back which troubled him due age. Nonetheless, as creaky as his bones were, he was a dwarf of large stature, temperamental and war-like in his young years. He had seen many wars and conflicts, and many a foe feared his dark axe, while his black hair waved in the sky. But as fearsome as he was, he was not rude or brash.
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The Great East Road
