Belargyle

Born of the coldest day in the history Illyriad, Belargyle was brought forth into this realm. It is said that as the sun set, it paused only long enough to allow it's last rays of light to glimmer through the portals of the Dwarven halls to rest upon the newly born child, and then disappeared. Born of noble blood in the hallowed halls of his Dwarven ancestors, in the old mountains, now flooded with Orcs and others unnameable, where his kin were chased from their homes. Though what began as a noble birth in those once hallowed halls became a humble living amongst the other races. Hated and loathed by others for no other reason than being a dwarf, he grew in a land where honor, virtue, and valor were rarely seen and most spat upon.

Then, on his 33rd birthday he stood before his Dwarven friends and vowed that he would not only stand against those who would cast us down but would raise up a new nobility where Dwarves would be respected Lords once again. He took with him only 2 friends.. and the legend of his journeys and battles are whispered in hushed voices far and wide. They are whispered because such tales of Dwarven people actually becoming Lords once again are like fragile dreams. Thus anything more than a whisper might blow the dream away. 

And yet, in silent halls of houses and hovels of dwarves alike they whisper... He's coming... and they wait.

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