The Betrayal of Ironforge

## The Betrayal of Ironforge by the Coward Orvar Blessedbelly It's your fault. Tucked away in the mountains of the east there lies a small mining town named Ironforge. It is home to dwarves, a stubborn and hardy folk. The townsfolk, mostly miners, spend their days toiling in the snakeline caverns that fuel the town's fragile economy. Among the handful of families is yours, the Blessedbelly clan. Your home lies along the ridge of the largest iron deposit in town -- a mine owned by the Blessedbelly clan. You live in that small home with your six older brothers. Your mother is buried beneath a tree and your father is buried beneath a recent cave-in. It's your fault. In dwarf years, you are a child. Perhaps even a teenager. But you are young nonetheless, and far younger and more temperamental than any of your siblings. You are weak for your age. You are upset. It was some days ago. You were never strong enough to mine like your brothers or father, but you accompanied them on their trip regardless. You wanted to feel like you were contributing. You wanted to be accepted. However, you were too weak to mine for more than a few minutes. To make up for your weakness you bought some dynamite from a traveling vendor some moons ago and brought it with you on this workday. You were told it could blow the iron right off the cave walls, and that your resulting payday would be the envy of Ironforge. You were not lied to. The dynamite did blow the iron right off the cave walls. But it also blew the stone right off the cave walls, too. You could feel a quake. All at once, the mineshaft supports weakened and the ceiling fell in. You could hear the entire mine collapse. It was a terrible crackling. You never forgot how it sounded. You ran and escaped. Your brothers have always treated you as a burden, if they interact with you at all. But because of that cave-in, they've grown antagonistic. They find you contemptible. Your very existence to them is grotesque. Because of you, the Blessedbelly family patriarch is dead, and with him, the clan's sole source of income. The mine is no more. Your family will be impoverished and starved within weeks. It's your fault. The funeral service for your father isn't even finished when your eldest brother, Magvar, seizes the clan hammer and proclaims himself the new family patriarch. His first order is to bar you from ever setting foot in Ironforge again. His second is to banish you from the Blessedbelly clan entirely. You hate Magvar. You look at your other siblings for a glimmer of support but they unanimously agree with Magvar's decision. You hate your brothers. You leave the Blessedbelly house in tears. Your legs carry you to the town gate. You collapse onto the ground and look up at the stars. You feel tired. You feel angry. But you also feel shame and guilt. You cry yourself to sleep. You're woken up the next morning by a merchant attached to a well-protected elven caravan. They stand on the other side of the gate and announce they're interested in purchasing mining rights. You tell them that the largest mine in town is now closed due to a cave-in. They ask for details and you tell them it's because of you. You blew it up. It's your fault. You explain things: the death of your father, the succession of a new patriarch, and your banishment. You spit venom when speaking of Magvar, and the intense hatred you feel for your brothers. The merchant pulls back his hood and reveals his elven features. He says that it's alright, and that he may be interested in purchasing something else. He says that he has a way to get back at your brothers, if you're interested. It's then that you look at the armed caravan and realize the true business he's in. But that only makes you agree even quicker. You open the gate and let them in. The next events happen quickly. You lead the caravan's mercenaries to the Blessedbelly estate where they capture your brothers. Your brothers look at you in horror as they're shackled and forced outside. The rest of Ironforge looks on in terror as your brothers are paraded to the elven caravan, tossed into the cage with the other slaves. For the first time in a long time you feel happy. Your brothers are getting their comeuppance. This is their punishment for wronging you. As you thank the elven merchant for his assistance, he gazes at the other mines dotting the mountainsides. He gives a signal and you see his mercenaries barge into other homes and seize the innocent townsfolk. You protest but the elf tells you to leave at once. The air is filled with the agonized cries of your dwarven brethren. You can't stand to look them in the eye. You have no choice but to run away. You dash through the town gate and stare solidly ahead. You blame the elf for tricking you and enslaving the people of Ironforge, but you know where the true blame lies. It's your fault. ## Epilogue As you leave, you swear never to return. The shame is too great. Though you feel fulfilled by seeing your terrible brothers brought to justice, you still feel shame and guilt. It is because of your actions that these elves enslaved not just your brothers, but the entirety of Ironforge. Was it your true feelings that you wanted your brothers to be slaves? Looking back, perhaps not. It was a moment of intense passion that led you to that action. Your rage was untethered. You were manipulated. But it is because of that weakness that Orvar the Nameless had to escape from Ironforge and his previous life. You took up doing odd jobs anywhere you could manage, and traveled frequently to take your mind off of things. You developed a bit of a reputation as a folk hero from helping farmers tame their livestock, or repairing the broken wheels of wagonriders, or retrieving lost items from bandits. You hope that in doing these jobs that you may atone for your wrongdoings, or in doing so may acquire enough money to buy back the freedom of the people of Ironforge. Or perhaps to even hire your own private army to wipe the slate clean -- literally. Either way, you persist and eventually receive the moniker Orvar the Mighty. Your strength may be overwhelming, but you know it is likely in vain. The last you heard of Ironforge, you knew that the former townsfolk were enslaved and used as forced labor for the new elven mining company operating there. There was far more to be gained working the slaves there to the bone than simply selling them elsewhere, and so that's what the elves are up to. You curse them whenever you can.