Udirfeb (The Black Arrow for those who speak the common tongue), started out like any other fortress. In the early spring of 256, The Tower of Crowds sent out a new-formed company of seven dwarves called The Elder Trumpet. These dwarves had a hard task before them, to build a grand fortress city - in the name of the The Mountainhome - for the glory of all dwarf-kind.

There were two miners in the group, a few farmers and brewers, a woodworker, and a skilled fighter named Ushirir Nethathel (Balancedrings). They set to work immediately, and before long, a small settlement was beginning to take shape.

Over the next two years, Udirfeb prospered. Elven caravans came to trade in the fall, and our own kin arrived early in the spring. With them came droves of migrants, looking for a place to start a new life.

And what better place than The Black Arrow? Gold, iron, and precious gems flowed in rivers under the mountain. Udirfeb and it's people was kept safe by the glorious militia. These fighters were more than just a rabble of hastily equipped peasants. No, the guard of Udirfeb contained ten of The Tower of Crowd's best fighters - Legends in their own time. One of the greatest among them, Axe lord Olon Letmosob (Cobaltboards) was said to have slain two elves with a single swing of his bloodied axe. Sodel Tulonbormek (Roadwhip) was the leader of the marksdwarf squad. Some believed they could put three bolts in an enemy's head before he was able even to unsheathe his blade. Ushirir Balancedrings was the commander of this deadly force. Together, they had trained for many years, fought off a minor necromancer attack, captured thieves and child-snatchers, and generally kept the peace. Traveling the high-road might be dangerous, but within sight of The Black Arrow's walls, brigands, goblins, and any other fiends never stirred.

Until the dead arrived.

Nearly thirty corpses were seen on the horizon, and a human necromancer was behind them. Ushirir was sent for to address the situation, and a dwarf was quickly dispatched to close the retracting bridge at the entrance of the fort. Ushirir knew the power of a necromancer, but she also knew the strength of her army. No filthy human - necromancer or not - would ever break The Black Arrow. Ushirir sent the marksdwarves to the gate. Once the bridge was retracted, that idiot necromancer and his horde could never get past the moat. The marksdwarves would be able to easily pick them off.

Except, the bridge was still there, and the undead were already upon it.

The entire militia were sent to the front. Ten legendary warriors against a human necromancer and forty (their numbers now increased by the dwarf's refuse pile) shambling corpses. About four enemies per dwarf. An easy fight.

It began.

The militia charged in, hewing down zombies left and right. But the carnage truly started when the enemy hit the traps.

These weren't ordinary traps, no, they were some of the deadliest traps know to dwarf-kind. Filled with giant iron axe blades, these machines could tear through a goblin army in seconds.

But this was no goblin army.

No, it was an army of the undead, and the axes just made it worse. Every arm, every foot, every toe, was another enemy the gallant militia had to face. Before long, there were over 150 zombies flooding into Udirfeb.

And now, only Olon Letmosob and two marksdwarves remained at the gate. Where were the others? They hadn't been slain, but they were nowhere to be found. Until Olon happened to look over into the dry moat, where four of the dwarves had fallen. A miner was immediately sent to dig them out.

Meanwhile, Soldel Tulonbormek and Olon Letmosob were holding off the entire horde. Sodel was backed against a wall, 40 undead all around him. Then Olon charged in, swinging his axe all around, fountains of blood spraying into the air. But it was too late. Soldel was already down (after more than 64 pages of combat log).

The undead pushed past the bloodied Axe Lord and deeper into the fortress. Merchants, visitors from the Mountainhome, screamed and tried to run with the civilians.

Then, like a tidal wave, the rest of the militia emerged from underground. They had escaped the moat, and they were thirsting for slaughter.

Limul Ekastcerol, legendary sword master, and Bim Feblogem Rabnekol (The Glowing Skull) flew through the enemy, taking them down left and right. Bim's hammer was like thunder, and Limul's sword was the lightning that follows. And just like a storm, they swept all before them.

They were trying to rescue a half-dead Olon Letmosob, who was surrounded by nearly 30 foes. Limul was about to reach him, when suddenly, Olon was pulled to the ground, never to rise again. That day, The Axe Lord had taken nearly thirty enemies with him, and dealt mortal wounds to all but a few of the rest. Long may he be remembered.

Meanwhile, Minkot Nolurdim, the last surviving member of the marksdwarf squad, and Ushurir Balancedrings, were moping up the zombies still remaining beside the trade post, and helping the civilians get farther underground.

Even with the loss of Olon, the tide of the battle was beginning to turn. After making sure the civilians were safe, Ushirir and Minkot charged in to help Bim and Limul with the remaining enemies. By now, only 40 were left.

Then, suddenly, Minkot was taken down beneath the enemy horde. The last of the marksdwaves had fallen. Somehow, the force of undead swelled to over five score. Alone, and backed against the fortress wall, Ushirir Balancedrings held them off, stopping the zombies from entering the heart of Udirfeb. She had vowed that no enemy would ever make it down those stairs while she was yet standing. And she kept her promise. She died by the time the enemy swept past her.

Oblivious to their commander's death, Bim and Limul were still at the gate, slaughtering all their foes. Bim's left hand was broken, and Limul had a badly bruised leg, but other than that, the Thunder and Lighting (as they would later be called) were unscathed. They slew enemies left and right, but for every foe they cut in half, two more appeared. Without a warning, without even a cry, Limul Ekascterol was felled. Driven insane by rage, grief, and bloodlust, Bim Feblogem Rabnekol went completely berserk. Heedless to the danger, the Hammer Lord threw himself into the midst of the undead horde. No one knows exactly what happened to him, but all of a sudden, he was gone. Some say he was he was buried beneath the corpses of his enemies, some say he threw himself off the cliff-face rather than fall to the undead. Some even believe he was rescued from death by Armok, as a tribute to Bim's glorious offering of blood. All we know for certain is that he served The Black Arrow as well as any of his comrades. The Glowing Skull, Thunder of Udirfeb, will never be forgotten.

And now, who was there left to check the advance of the enemy? Only two militia remained, one who served his city well, and one who is still today shrouded in mystery.

Ustuth Mafoldeler (Chambersteel) found himself underground, in the middle of the storerooms. Looking around him, he saw terrified civilians running in panic. Then he remembered. The attack! The enemy! He must have been knocked unconscious.

Leaping to his feet, he grabbed up his spear and strapped on his shield. And not a moment too soon. The enemy was already upon him. The entire undead horde ran, crawled, and shambled their way down the steps. Civilians scattered. Ustuth was left in the middle of a furniture stockpile, with nearly seven score enemies coming towards him.

He stood his ground.

Then, Ustuth entered a trance. The light from the torches glinted off his spear as he plunged it deep into his foes. One by one they fell. All the warrior could see was the bloody tip of his weapon, and the cold, dead hearts of his enemies. Every fiber of his being focused on the fight. For nearly two hours, he fought the entire horde. More than four score had surrounded him before they finally brought him down. His last thought was not grief, nor was it anger, but joy - the joy of slaughter.

With the last roadblock gone, the enemy quickly ravaged the fortress. Soon, there were only three dwarfs left. Dakost Ledzim, the master engraver, Amost Thortithatis (Spellstake), a lonely Speardwarf, and an unknown miner.

Dakost, hearing the commotion upstairs, headed quickly to the burial crypt. He wanted to create one last masterpiece. He had just finished, and was on his way to the central staircase when the horde took him. Ledzim was cut down almost instantly.

The miner happened to be caught outside, and ran all around the fortress, trying to escape the horde. Alas, he fell from exhaustion, and the zombies were instantly upon him. He died even faster than Dakost.

This leaves us with only Amost Spellstake left. He was holed up in the barracks with a broken leg. Unable to walk, he dragged himself into the armory to hide. But the undead never came for him. Days went by, and still, he saw nothing. Amost was hurt, but no help arrived. The workshops of the fortress were silent. All he could hear was the clanking of bones, the rasping of blood-filled lungs, and the drone of thousands of flies, laying their eggs in the bloated, rotting corpses of his friends. The thought made him sick. If only his leg was well. He knew the enemy wouldn't hurt him. More days passed, and a new sound was heard in the fortress. Amost began mumbling to himself, then talking to the walls, then screaming at the darkness all around him.

He stood up, oblivious to the pain in his leg. Breaking past the door, he ran down the hallway. By now, it was slick with congealed blood. The living dead were all around him, but they payed the spear-dwarf as much notice as they payed each other. Stumbling down staircase after staircase, Amost finally found what he was looking for. He was in the burial crypt. In the center was a circular pillar of stone, it had four pictures on it, but this was the only one Amost saw:

"Engraved on the wall is an exceptionally designed image of dwarves by Dakost Ledzim. The dwarves are laboring. The artwork relates to the foundation of The Black Arrow by The Elder Trumpet of the Tower of Crowds in the early spring of 256."

Amost Spellstake talked to the engraving. He cried and pleaded, but the faces of the dwarves were stone cold.

He threw his boots at the South wall, his socks at the West wall, and his cap at the North wall. Finding no solace in that, he headed back where he came from, up the stairs, and turned into the morbid hallway.

And that's when I left him. The Black Arrow had been broken - Udirfeb was no more. The heroism of it's citizens is an example to all of The Tower of Crowds, but the mystery of Amost Thortithatis remains unsolved. Is there an insane vampire speardwarf yet lurking in the depths of the fortress? Will a brave hero ever have to confront him? For now, only Armok knows.