Dwalin Mikir

"A Dwarf is only as good as his word, if his word is useless, so is he."

- Dwalin Mikir's popular saying

Dwalin(III) Mikir was born third in line for the throne, so began runesmithing as a beardling knowing that his duties to his kinsmen would lie apart from ruling. Fate was to prove Dwalin wrong, withing a year of Kadlonin being raised to king he was dead, his second eldest brother Duna had died many years ealier. So with a heavy heart Dwalin became king. He would later become regarded as Dwalin(III) the Wise, no other King of Karak Thingaz would reign as long as him or rule with such prophetic sight.

Personality and Appearance
Those that met Dwalin would often describe him as wise, humble(especially in a dwarf king no less), possesing a fierce intelect and a good humour. Many would note the calm air of command that emminated from him but all of them would remember his eyes.

"When first I met Dwalin he seemed to be nothing more than a tired old dwarf, beyond his time and mourning a time long past.  His calm quiet and humble manner quite unlike the proud noble king I had been expecting. Then he but looked into my eyes.' His eyes, like two polished grey stones, seemed to hold a sorrrow deep within them and a light that peirced my soul leaving me standing bare before him. ' Never before or since have I felt such a child"


 * - Lord Captain Heizen Van Gol of Osstermar

The Beardling Years
Dwalin's was born in 1701 I.C. His father was Dwalor, his mother Narl. He was the third eldest among four. His eldest brother was Kadlorin, second eldest brother Duna and his younger sister Fai. Dwalin and Fai were almost inseperable. They would hunt treasure together(unguarded pastries) and often explore the depths of Karak Thingaz, sometimes for days on end.

Dwalin more than any other beardling in the hold loved to hear the tales of the longbeards. He would listen for hours to their tales keeping their tankards and their stories flowing. The Longbeards of course loved this and soon enough every Longbeard in the hold looked to him as their favoured nephew, blood or no. One Dwarf took a particular intrest in him; Runelord Drounol Akajin, head of the council of thains.

On Dwalins 30th birthday many thains of the hold came to pay respects and give gifts. After much feasting Drounol came before the young Thain and asked what would like as a gift. "Knowledge and wisdom" said Dwalin. Smilling faintly Drounol replied "Knowledge may be aquired by many means but wisdom, wisdom is a gift of the Ancestor Gods to be bestowed where they will. I can help you with the first but you must find the other for yourself. That is if you wish to become my apprentice". Dwalin overcome with mirth and drink then roared his acceptance. Duounol then told him that to become his apprentice he must prove his worth and recover the Hammer of Thrain. There was a riplle of muttering through the feast hall, surely the Master of the runes was joking, that he had set an impossable task in jest. Dwalins just laughed and then toasted Drounols good health and the feast continued on into the night. Many thought it a joke and a joke well recieved.

The next morning Dwalin was gone from the hold. The guards at the gates would report that he had left with three ponies heavily laden with provsions. The guards said that he strode with pupose and a fine axe across his shoulders. Talk of the young thanes errant departure spread throughout the hold, many thought the task to perilouse and noted that none had found it and most had died. The thought would not go past Dwalor and so he summoned Drounol to see whether he had sent him to his death. Drounol said if there was to be a Dwarf to do it it would be him. Five years later the Throne room doors would burst open amid midday court. Standing there pround(a littlle ruffled perhaps) and with the same delight he had shown five years ago stood Dwalin. Triumphantly holding the Hammer of Thrain in hand.