saw. How did Pascius know his last name or his name at all? He never saw this old man in his life. He lived with the dwarfs in the mountains. This was the first time he ever traveled outside of his homeland. Instead of asking, Harry decided to nod back at Pascius with an uncertainty.
“Now don’t worry Harry you have been joined by all of the other lines of that time. All the races do not know this now but they have a lineage of the gods themselves living amongst them. I am glad that they were able to finally come together again so that I can tell them the story of their forefathers. The true heroes of old. The greatest story of them all. The story that no one knew or even told. The story that will give everyone here a new look on life and the truth. So now I shall begin.” Pascius garnered the attention of everyone in the tavern. This tavern was located in the middle of Minius and was surrounded by a large crop of trees. This was unheard of in any large city such as this. But for some reason The 13th Armor Tavern had special privileges.
The tavern itself could hold well over three thousand people and at times when Pascius came it had to. Everyone knew that there was a second floor which had eleven rooms. All of varying sizes and different decor. For example one of the rooms had small bags full of spell components for a wizard. Another looked like you were in a forest, the most comfortable for a druid. They all went on like that. Each different, it seemed perfect. There was some traveler who was excited about the rooms and often visited to look at them. The interesting part is that no one stole anything. This was a tavern not an Inn either way. The owner never used the rooms upstairs but for some odd reason never changed the decor. Would often get angry when someone would suggest using them for storage. When Harry first was hired he was given the tour and saw the rooms first hand. Harry snapped back and began to pay attention to Pascius once more.
Pascius looked at everyone and began his story……………………………..
In a small city named Minius, on the plains of Gorgantian, there was a dwarf filled with grief. His Father just recently passed away, the last and only part of his family, while he was away protecting the city and training. Huddled in a corner of the graveyard is where he sat. The Dwarf was left with it all. The estate, the gold, the responsibility, and most importantly the last task at hand. Finding out where his mother has been. He was also curious about why he was so much more advanced than anyone training around him. His name was Gurmble Proudhammer.
Gurmble didn’t know where to start to look for his mother or what to do about the recent charge of goblin hordes around the gates. He loved his father very much. But could only think at this time how he was left with no help. He remembers how his father use to always say that the eleven rooms in their house was always meant to be filled with the next coming of the 13th legion. When his father was alive he was the leader of the original 13th legion during the first Great Goblin wars. If there was ever a time where they needed the 13th legion it was now.
Dismissing his anger, grief, and selfishness Gurmble did the only thing he knew to do. He went straight to the Blacksmiths to make armor and weapons for the army at the gates. The city just recently went into lock down. The gates not to be opened unless