Snorri stands just under three foot two inches but his orange crest when put up adds another half foot to his height. His long orange beard is braided into three pony tails that hang below his waist and the bare skin of his arms and partially shaved scalp are covered in numerous tattoos, many are patterns but some are in deklan the ancient dwarfs story language. A large earring of gold hangs from his right ear where his left has a large chunk is missing. His narrow storm grey eyes are always filled with a simmering rage that lurks just under the surface. A pair of finely crafted and rune covered throwing axes hang from his broad hips while a massive dwarven battle axe of similar make hangs on his back. Where most people would need both hands to wield such a weapon Snorri tosses it around one-handed as if it was made of air, but then his arms are corded with ropes of muscle as is his nearly bear chest. Bracelets of gold and silver adorn both wrists and they are scratched and dented in many places.
Slayers are dwarfs who have committed a sin, or en-curd some great shame. Because of this their soul and the souls their loved ones are denied entry to the afterlife. Kol the god of honor and vengeance takes charge of them. They must seek their doom fighting a great monster or doing a deed so great it wipes away their crimes and undoes their shame. Snorri Guderlack is one such dwarf. He has as the Slayers say Taken the Crest. Now he wanders the world seeing a Glorious doom and with him travels a friend of shorts, a bard who one night of joy of life and to much beer swore an oath to Snorri. They would follow him for all his days and when he found his doom they would write a epic poem that all the world would hear. So great a poem that the gods themselves would know the name Snorri Gunderlack.
The Caravan had rolled out from the gates of the small mountain village while the sun was still rising above the horizon. The snows which had been falling most of the night had started to slack off and now they were like drifting cotton on the wind frigid north winds. The tiny flakes melted as they touched the furred flesh of the powerful horses and the men guiding the wagons or standing guard near them. All were clad in heavy furs and woolen scarves to keep the chill away from as much flesh as they could. All save for three who rode in a wagon towards the middle, all were stout dwarfs with large crests of hair running down the middle of their scalps while the rest of their heads were shaved bald. One a stout fellow with a patch over his right eye had his crest plaited together and held up like sharpened spikes. His friends corn yellow hair was done up in a straight line but was cut like the cresting wave of the distant ocean. The last had his orange red hair done up tall and proud his beard plaited with rings of steel. All three wore minimal armor and wielded massive weapons that most of the humans with them would have struggled to carry.
They sat in the wagon throwing back mug after mug of strong ale despite having spent the night doing that very same thing. The one with orange hair had joined them last night at the small Norseman settlement while the other two had been with the wagons for close to five months. The leaders of the caravan were more than willing to welcome another one of these strange breed for they had seen the others fight like maddened wolves when attacked and had little fear of dying it appeared.
The older pair was swapping stories as fast as they were drinking “BAH! That is nothing!”Roared wave crest as he pointed to a an area just below his chest which was a mangle of scar tissue “Ye should ‘a seen the one that did this ta me! Thought I had found me doom that day I did. Alas was not ta be.” His companion spike hair laughed and slapped his leg then turned a serious eye on their newest member. “Why the stone face Gunderlack?” he asked with a seriousness to his heavy voice.
Snorri shot him hard look “How can ye joke of lost doom so? Are ye not supposed ta seek it out no matter what? Isn’t that the purpose of our lives now?”
Spike shook his head “Ye are new to the cult I get that beardling but just because we swore ta seek death fighting a nasty beast doesn’t mean we can no enjoy the getting to that end.” He waved his hand around airily “I have worn the crest near a decade now and near found me doom a dozen times!” he held thumb and forefinger a sliver apart “ but each time it eluded me by this much. When it finds me it finds me but ye wont’ say it was from a lack of looking!” he roared and downed half his tankard. Wave crest nodded in agreement “Tis be the right of it young one. Ifn’ ye wanted a faster doom ye should have walked the dark roads.”
But Snorri shook his head “Nay, me crimes were committed upon the land so here I will find recompose fer them.” He looked out over the snowy wasteland that had been his home for all his life so far. And he was leaving it, leaving it to go where? Did it matter he wondered? Should he do what the cult master suggested and chase stories of great evil and gruesome monsters to hunt down and with luck one would kill him? There was so much he didn’t know but that which he did made his flesh burn with his shame, all he wanted now was to die and end it all. Old one eye looked across the rocking wagon and reached out one meaty hand to clap him on the shoulder. “I know what ye are thinking beardling, ye are thinking the same thing all new slayers do. And I will give ye some advice want it or not, heed it or not tis yer choice. Ifn’ taking the crest was the easy way to removing our shame wouldn’t more do it?” he shook his head “Old Kol will get his pound of flesh from ye afore yer doom finds ye. He tests us ta make sure we are ready then and only then does he let our doom find us. Yer road could be long or short, all depends.” He leaned back as Snorri let out a snort.
He was still in thought when a scream from further up the wagon roused him and all three leaped to their feet weapons in hand. Snorri squinted to see through the bright light and falling snow to see what transpired and he saw blurry shadows slogging through the snow towards the front wagons. “ORCS!” he roared with delight and leaped over the wagons edge along with Wave and both sank into the deep snow nearly to tops of their heads. “HA! Armatures” shouted spike as he started to make his way forward by leaping from wagon to wagon. He paused in one leap when a massive roar spit the air and sent horses rearing and screaming in terror, but no terror filled him for he laughed out loud. “Damn courteous beastie brought a Linorm along with them!”
From the snow behind him came a roared response “Ye stay away from that one Biri Blunderson! I call it fer meself!”
“HA! Goldcrown ye can’t call what ye can’t see, but I be fair and race ye ta it!” came the response which caused loud blustering and grumbling from his snow locked friends who pushed their way forwards hoping to find less deep snow. The sounds of battle rang out all around, steel on steel, steel on flesh and the screams of the wounded and dying. They finally burst through the heavy snow and into an area that had been trampled down by the rush of foes. With war cry’s of their own they rushed into the backs of the orc’s slashing around them like demons. Their foes didn’t know what hit them at first and they whipped away from their targets in the caravan to face his new foe. In moments Snorri was covered in splatters of crimson as his axe hewed through his foes like wheat. Next to him Goldcrowns massive hammer pulped bone and organs with the ease of a man swatting flies. In moments the fighting was over the Orc’s quickly finding the fast slaughter they sought had been turned on them and they broke and fled in all directions. The two heaving slayers looked around and spotted the massive linorm not far off doing battle with their companion. The creature lashed at the snow with talon and fang but each time Biri was no longer there dodging to the side and slashing out with his twin axes. The great scaly beast already bled from a dozen wounds but rather then seeming injured it just looked angrier and angrier.
“Damn him! Stealing me doom from me again!” snarled Goldcrown and before Snorri could respond he held up one meaty fist “I get seconds on it afore ye can ask.” A group of guards came up next to them and looked between them and the fight bewildered why they were just standing there. “We have to help him!” shouted their leader and he lifted his bloody spear and started forward.
“I wouldn’t. He won’t a thank ye fer it and likely he would beat ye back just ta keep it ta himself.” Shot Goldcrown as he tightened his grip. With our warning the massive lizard changed it tactics and rather than slash with a claw it snapped its long snaky tail forward catching the dwarf across the chest and throwing him through the air to slam into wagon which nearly rocked itself over with the impact. “Tag” came the mumbled response from the slayers blood flecked lips. With a shout of glee Goldcrown rushed in and smashed his hammer into the side of the Linnorn’s leg with the sound of hammer striking an anvil. The creature roared and started to back away holding the damaged limb off the ground “Oh no ye don’t! Ye don’t get ta deny me ma doom lizard!” roared the dwarf as he rushed forward and leaped into the air grabbing a handful of fleshier barbells that hung from the creatures jaw. With his grip secured he began to smash his hammer into anything he could reach and quickly drove the beast into a frenzy. It quickly began to throw its head around and tear at its own neck with its claws to try and dislodge its foe. “Look out!!” screamed one guard pointing a shaking finger “It is heading for the cliff!! Leap!!” but Snorri knew that no such thing would happen and it didn’t. The Linnorm staggered to left and the ice shelf gave free with a crack and both it and dwarf tumbled over with a shriek of rage and bellow of laugher. The sounds echoed around eerily for while as Snorri stomped over to the other dwarf and kneeled next to him and went to work checking his wounds. Birir opened one bleary eye as he stared up “Whoa! When did ye bring yer twin with ye Gunderlack?” he asked with a slurred voice. “Not me twin ye dolt just yer fat head. Ye took a hit that would drop a giant, but sadly ye will live it looks like.”
Biri shook his head “damn it all another good doom lost.” He groused but Snorri was shaking his head as he looked to where the beast and Goldcrown had vanished “Nay, twas a good doom fer one of us.”