The Dwarf-Mage of the Fir Bolg



Qwenqwo Cuatzel didn't have time to hug the spiritual guardian, Bétaald, much as he felt inclined. He ran towards the central plaza, where he heard the unmistakable roar of a grizzly in full blood rage. Other sounds he heard over the din of battle: the roars of the enemy and a muted cheer from Olhyiu throats. With the oraculum cradled in his broken left arm and the Fir Bolg axe twirling and hacking in his right, he fought his way past Kehloke, who stood wounded and exhausted among a small circle of Olhyiu that fought alongside the giant grizzly bear against hundreds of encroaching legionaries and swooping gargs.