The Brazen Bollocks Mercenary Co.

Gundar's Tale, Part 1

Culhwch watched the dwarf enter the smithy and thought today was the day, to talk to him about this ritual he now knew his short friend took to take his mind off of the Bollucks matters. He waited patiently a while, then got up from the bale of hay he was lounging on and strode toward the brick building the dwarf had entered. Near the door an ornate worked sign proclaimed the place the Mithril Mallet Craft House in dwarvish runes and common alike.

Walking into the dark confines of the building, Culhwch's senses were assaulted with the tang of burning steel and the ring of metal meeting metal. The heat was unbearably stifling almost at once. He looked around and frowned. Where Gundar was always the easiest figure to pick out due to his stature and slovenliness, here there were about a half dozen "Gundars" all working at various tasks. Culhwch stood patiently for a while until the real Gundar looked up from his work and waved him over.

"Hey there manling, what brings you to tha Mallet today? Is this chance or were you perhaps curious about what else I do besides drink in ma free time?" Culhwch said, "I've seen you come and go from this place a time or two. It's no secret, but I was curious what you might be about when the Bullocks are running shite errands for The Black Fist". Culhwch emphasized this last with a crude gesture that made Gundar chuckle. "Well manling, I'm sure you know all about the dwarves' reknown and natural skill for smithing. And it's true that even me own grandsire was the great armorer Drathnior Drudkh". Gundar raised his meaty hands up in a gesture of homage. Culhwch simply raised an eyebrow, having never heard the name before. "I'm a bit, eh, different if you will. Very few dwarves take to crafting more, eh, ehem, delicate objects". Culhwch looked into the bucket near where Gundar was sitting and realized he was looking at cutlery. To emphasize, Gundar picked out a heavy fork and began to buff it with a dirty cloth. "The finest dwarf forged utensils for the nobility to jam up their stuffy arses". Culhwch looked at the fork and thought it actually looked quite fine. He said, "so while we've been out on Bollucks business, you are here, making forks? Forgive me, but a fork makes for a poor weapon. You really can't kill with one, unless it's very big. And that one there, well, it's not big enough". Gundar glowered up at the big man. "Aye. This is what I do to make a few extra coins, but it's also a way to connect with me kin. Every dwarf you see here is clanless, including meself" Culhwch nodded. He knew the dwarf had hinted that he had no home, but he never pressed the issue. There was always a haunted look that came to Gundar's features when it came up. Gundar continued, "I've been doing some digging around, so to speak, spending some of the coin I've earned in our last few successful endeavors. Reaching out to contacts, particularly dwarf ones, but also the Emerald Enclave". Culhwch nodded as Gundar continued. "I've been thinking about how my clan's hold fell, and also, about how those few of us left have been falling as well. There's a tale to this, but it will take time. Let me finish up here, and I'll buy a few rounds at the Teakettle tonight and tell ye all about it." Culhwch nodded and said "That'd be fine. I just hope this means you'll be joining us on the next mission." Gundar nodded. "I will manling. Can't let you be goin and takin all those grobbi ears without me." Culhwch shrugged, not exactly sure the next mission even involved goblins, but Gundar seemed particularly obsessed with killing the little fuckers. "Let's talk tonight manling, and you can get me up to speed on what this next task will be"

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