Kurik sat alone atop Mt. Thunderpeak, staring into the distance as a cloud formed, bringing with it a new winter storm. The old man sat in silence, as he always did. That's why Kurik loved spending so much time here. This wisened figure never expected words, for words are feeble. It was on this mountain that his thoughts drifted to stories of his childhood. His eyes closed, and he dreamt....
....visions moving with a speed unknown, light, darkness.........and then suddenly the feeling of power, of strength of the ancestors filling his arms with a power unseen on the face of Toril........
"Come! Come to DIE!" was all the fierce warrior spoke. He stood, mightily swinging his massive hammer like a wave of death as he was surrounded by hoards of dead and dying orcs, goblins, trolls, and crowned with the incapacitated form of a Glabrezu, slain by this warrior.
The hammer struck again and again, his wounds deep and bleeding, the warrior swung on, a small barbarian encampment in the distance, nothing but icy tundra surrounding him.[i]
Finally, as his last enemy is slain, the warrior falls to his knees, grasping his hammer in a mighty hand, the spirits of his line leaving his body in a whirl of blue-grey fire. He falls to his knees, bringing his hammer to bear on the ground at his feet. The earth splits, swallowing him, the hammer, and his enemies.
Down....down into darkness.......life leaving......but death comes.....with a smile as Uthgar smiles and welcomes you home............
Kurik awakens with a start, looking at the old man.......who stares impassively.....was that the remnant of a smile on his face?
The old man spake only one word......"Runebreaker"
Kurik stood and began his search.
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