| “ | I came here hoping to take it all back. I came hoping to look upon the far deeps, on the ancestor statues of the Abyss of Iron’s Dream. I dreamed of opening up the Ungdrin again so that armies might freely march between my, Kazador’s and Thorgrim’s realms. I dreamed of reopening the mines, of filling the coffers of our clan with gold and jewels.
— Belegar Ironhammer
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” |
Belegar Ironhammer, born Belegar Angrund, was the last leader of the Angrund clan and a formidable dwarf king. His lineage traces back to the olden days to the rulers of the fabulous Karak Eight Peaks: a dwarf hold so magnificent in power that it rivaled the Everpeak itself. He directly descended from King Lunn who was the fortress city's last dwarven lord before its fall. After many daring attempts to retake the place by the heirs of Angrund, Belegar finally decided to take matters into his own hands and attempt to avenge the despoiling of the hold.
Belegar's bold quest wasn't done alone. With the backing of High King Thorgrim Grudgebearer's throngs and Master Runelord Thorek Ironbrow's forgeries, Ironhammer marched his armies into the trap-filled Karak Eight Peaks where he sincerely found himself outmatched by enemies coming from all sides. Whether they be Skaven ambushes or Night Goblins pouring out of the areas near their entry point, Belegar stood fast and strong even with all the hardships he suffered there. Despite his army's strength, Belegar could only keep the Hold's upper levels and needed regular reinforcements in such impossible war. When the Council of Thirteen decided to step up their plans in the End Times, he finally met his doom in the hands of Queek Headtaker.
Battle vs. Azog (By Monkey Doctor 33)[]
A decrepit old town lies in the middle of a cold night in winter, with two mysterious moons that glow as brightly as one another hanging above it. No one is in the settlement, but it's quite unsettling to see its tidiness and how its buildings are lit up with a decent amount of lights. Snow falls on to the town in the silent night and strange magical winds blow throughout the lands. The landscape surrounding it isn't exactly natural, as well. Two drastically different mountains flank the town and within them, two separate strongholds are built into. They are both built by dwarves of different worlds: worlds that have collided this very night to settle a long-standing grudge.
A small yet stout figure treads through the town's snowy grounds, holding a hammer, shield, and torch. Hailing from Karak Eight Peaks, north of the settlement, Belegar Ironhammer of Clan Angrund has descended from his former rightful seat of power to the town. Before the end of the world, his journey to reclaim his home came to an end when the vile rat-men of Chaos smashed him and his army apart. He isn't sure why he's back to life, but his priority as of now is to find a place other than his cursed city to stay in.
As he walks around the town, he investigates the houses and buildings scattered around to find a place to sleep in. Though he is still fresh as if he's in his prime, he prefers to play it safe and not repeat the last mistake he did. After he silently scanned the environment, Belegar approaches a nearby tavern. Oil lamps brightly light up the place, and he can already feel the warmth radiating from inside it.
"Is there anyone inside?", Belegar knocks on the door and asks with a neutral tone in the humans' language, keeping down his voice to avoid attracting potential threats. He doesn't know if he's still in the Old World, but from what he knows, many night creatures prowl at this time. Especially when both Morrslieb and Mannslieb hang high and bright upon the skies.
Several seconds pass and no response is heard. He once again knocks on the door, three times. After waiting and knocking for multiple times without a response, Belegar decides to just barge in and wreck the locked door with his hammer. Before he can wind up his hammer, however, he instinctively picks up a distinct scent coming somewhere around the town. He can't tell how far, but he can tell whoever has that scent isn't all that far. All those time inside the dungeons of the Eight Peaks has trained his nose to differentiate the smell of his kin, the Greenskins, and the rat-men. His sense suggests that he's picking up the second, but something is unnatural about this one. Whoever is in this town with him, he or she may have to deal with the Ironhammer one way or another. Belegar quickly extinguishes and throws away his torch, taking cover behind a wagon to scout out who's coming his way.
A distance away, a figure of immense stature stands tall and walks around the place, a giant ball-and-chain towed on his right hand. He is Azog the Defiler, enemy to the line of Durin and a dark servant of Sauron. Years before his master's demise, he had died on Ravenhill to his nemesis, Thorin Oakenshield, and truly his death was a disappointment to the Dark Lord. While unlikely, Azog believes that his resurrection is a second chance for him to prove his worth in front of Sauron.
Azog heard the unmistakable language of the humans, accompanied with a thick accent that suggests the presence of a dwarf, albeit a foreign one. For all the hunts he embarked upon Thorin and his party and Azanulbizar, he has never heard a dwarf like this one. One of Durin's Folk or not, he will take joy in whatever dwarven victim he comes across tonight.
TBC
Expert's Opinion[]
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