2018-06-20 14:31
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<p>A long time ago, a child was born under the great blue sky. Many a Dwarf grumbled at the auspicious event, tugging furtively at their beards at this ill omen. A year later as the expedition had begun digging into the virgin hills of their new home, the grumbling of the doughty mountain people rose to a disbelieving furor when the yearling passed over the ritual offerings that would determine his lot in life. Instead, the as of yet unnamed child crawled over to a skillet fresh out of the fire and begun picking at the rock bread, unconcerned with the heat.</p> <p>Shouts turned into laughter, frowns lifted into craggy smiles. Upon placing a handful of the bread into his mouth, the infant's face grew so grim and stony not even the eldest of the present Dwarves could match him. There was a durable ore within this babe, of that the Lore Keeper was sure.</p> <p>Yumly Ironhand was thus named, the beginning of his great tale immortalized on the rune walls of his clan's history.</p> <p>"It's pronounced Yoom Lee and no, rock bread isn't a misnomer."</p>
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