The Hammer of Grimmold (Part 1)
                           by
                     'Stormbringer'

I had been summoned by Grimmold,  the King of the Dwarves.  'What 
now?' I  thought to myself as I was brought  before  him.  As  we 
feasted he told me the tale of Valk the evil magician and how  he 
had  stolen  the  fabled hammer of the  dwarves,  The  Hammer  Of 
Grimmold, symbol  of the dwarves' health and  virility.  My  mind 
became fuddled as I quaffed the horns of ale, and it was not long
before the King had persuaded me to set out and  bring back their
lost hammer.

Amongst cheers and good wishes  and much back-slapping, they sent 
me  on my way.  Grimmold assured me that if I returned  with  the 
hammer my name would become legend and would be sung by bards for 
all  time.  As the  cheering  and singing  faded and became  mere 
echoes I could hear him shout "Remember to  say  my name when you 
meet a friend!" 

I found myself at the edge of a dark  forest with steep mountains 
on the western side. The only way to go was east, from whence the 
rumours of Valk had come.  Within a short time I had come upon  a 
junction  in  the  woods,  routes led  north-east, south  and the 
mountains  were  behind  me.  Nothing  else  for it  but to  head
north-east  and,  sure  enough,  I arrived  at a  clearing in the
forest. 'What was that?' I  thought to myself as my nostrils drew
in the familiar smell  of wood smoke,  'There it is again, coming
from the  east.' I decided to investigate and followed the scent,
wishing the King  had  given me some means with  which to protect
myself.

As I stepped out of the woods I startled a woodsman standing by a 
camp fire,  he was holding an axe.  On closer examination I found 
him to be a friend. "Grimmold," I said and his eyes lit  up  with 
recognition of the King's name. "A friend of the dwarves, eh?" he 
said, "If that's the case, then I may be able to help you in your 
quest, but first I must have my sharpening stone. Return it to me 
and I will give you this axe." 'Fair enough,' I thought, a  stone 
shouldn't be too hard to find so off I went back up the way I had 
come.  Once in the clearing I followed the trail north to an Inn, 
busy it was too by the sounds that came from within.  I  couldn't 
pass  without calling in,  after all it was getting near time  to 
break my fast. 

As I stepped through the door I gave the room quick look  and, as 
I  did,  my eye caught sight of three men at the  bar.  'Wouldn't 
like  to  meet them on a dark night,' I muttered under my breath.
At this point the portly landlord  beckoned me over to a table in 
the  corner.  "Sit ye  down,  good sir," he  said  with a nervous
laugh,  "Certainly, landlord," I replied. "What have you to offer
a weary traveller  this  very morn?"  "I have advice to give  for
anyone who's a friend of the dwarf king." "Grimmold," I whispered
so as not to arouse suspicion. "Verily, sir, you are a friend,  I
will  tell  you this  to help you  in your quest.  You  will need
Troll's  dust  to  defeat  Valk."  A  roar went up as  a  drunken
traveller barged past the three hooded men. He  opened  the  door
and disappeared into the morning sun. 

Not wanting to overstay my welcome, I supped my ale and left.  

Once  outside I heard  the  door  being bolted  from  the inside,  
moments  later I could hear muffled cries and chairs being thrown 
around inside. I tried to get back in but to no avail. With dread 
in my heart, I headed north.........

@~To be continued in the next issue of SynTax.