Life Story
Page 1
Gerulf was born to a family of blacksmiths in a village commonly known as the "Dwarven Forge," at the foot of a volcano called the Devil's Mountain.
The Dwarven Forge was home to a famous workshop that crafted weapons which could pierce even the scales of a dragon. These weapons were fired in volcanic flame and hailed as one-of-a-kind.
However, handling the mountain's fire is difficult even for a skilled blacksmith, and only those who have been recognized for their skill by their master could use the furnace. It was said that the fire devil which dwelled within the volcano beguiled those who came near. And so, only a select few were allowed to handle the fire.
Gerulf's father and grandfather were both renowned blacksmiths. He grew up expecting to inherit that renown. So when he began his blacksmith apprenticeship, Gerulf naturally assumed it would be he who take over the workshop one day.
Page 2
Gerulf dreamed from a young age of becoming the best blacksmith of in the history of the Dwarven Forge. One that would surpass his father and grandfather, whose names were widely known on the continent. Being the best in the village mean becoming a blacksmith whose name would remain with the weapons he forged, passing on through generations. That was the fame Gerulf wanted.
To make a name for himself, he spared no effort in his studies. Upon hearing of an exceptional ore, he would send for it, and the workshop constantly echoed with the sound of his hammering. His brilliance shone in his beautifully crafted weapons, which were magnificently sharp, even without the use of mountain fire.
However, no matter how accomplished he became, his mentor father would not allow him use of the mountain fire. It was the eye-catching and ostentatious swords he made that gave a sense of the deep desire for fame within Gerulf's heart. His father was concerned that his son might be beguiled by the devil, and would not allow him to use the furnace.
Page 3
From then on, no matter how many acclaimed weapons he forged, Gerulf was not allowed to use mountain fire. He did not know why he was forbidden, and at night, when the workshop was empty, he would stand before the forbidden furnace grate and weep in frustration. If he could just forge in the volcano's fire, his reputation would be unshakable. And yet...
"If you want to use it, then just use it."
Head hung low, Gerulf heard an inhuman voice whispering in his ear. The voice spoke to him from the furnace. "Use the fire. "Do so and the fame and glory shall be yours."
The voice further whispered sweetly to him that if he offered his soul and made a pact, he would share the fire with Gerulf's furnace. Gerulf, despondent at not being recognized by his master, absently nodded at the devil's voice.
At that moment, his hands were enveloped in unquenchable flames.
Page 4
Both of Gerulf's hands were now marked with the fire Devil's brand. They blazed with the incessant flames and burned any who came too close. The brand was a sign that he had disobeyed the Dwarves' belief in the god of fire and made a pact with the devil. Gerulf was expelled from the village. Since then, he was shunned by the villagers, and lived alone in a small hut on the outskirts of the village.
Then one day, a problem occurred that shook the Dwarven Forge to its foundations. The fire within the Devil's Mountain, used for the forge's furnace, had suddenly cooled and hardened. And to make matters worse, the king at that time had ordered a new set of ceremonial weapons.
The king was known as a tyrant who had burned several villages and towns that disobeyed him and killed all the inhabitants. If they could not provide him with suitable weapons, their village would be destroyed. Gathered before the furnace, no longer heated by the mountain's fire, the villagers despaired.
Page 5
It was then that Gerulf appeared before them. "With these arms, I may be able to awaken the volcano." At those words, the villagers frowned, thinking him a fool. But Gerulf, alone, made his way to the now cold crater of the volcano. Gerulf, who's dreams of glory had been dashed, looked upon with scorn by the villagers. Even now, he could not give up his honor.
When Gerulf reached the crater, he struck the cold ground with his burning fists, over and over. He alone had made the pact with the volcano's fire devil. Then the flames of those brands that burned his fists should wake the devil and rekindle the fire of the silenced mountain. And so he continued pounding, as the hero of the village would. For three days and three nights, the sound echoed down to the village at the foot of the mountain. And, when others had given up, the ground trembled, shaking the volcano. The villagers looked up to see the long-awaited fire returning to the crater.
--And so, the Dwarven Forge had returned to life. But Gerulf never returned to the village. From that day on, the volcano has been known as Gerulf's Mountain.