The little community was loosely formed in the mouth of a large cave opening hidden to the world by a huge thicket. There was not joy to be seen in the faces of any of the inhabitants who huddled in the shadows and dark recesses of the cave. Why these families had been banished from the deep tunnels, which cradled their birthrights, was never imparted unto young Duergar. When he broached the subject a quick rebuff was sure to follow. Life was hard for these stout folks. There were no mushroom gardens to nourish the young. There were no lava ponds to heat the air in the harsh winters, nor deep spring ponds to dive into to relieve the heat. No pounding of metal to ring through the air at all hours of the night. No, the silence was eerie.

Time meandered along its course and very little changed in this what at best could be termed a camp. Beaten down by the elements, time traveled on and the numbers dwindled. Duergar was young and was able to travel further from the cave to forage for roots to help provide some relief to the hunger so many felt. A small fire was able to be maintained to help work the metal their keen eyes could see all along the walls of the cave. Small tools were made to help dig up roots and cut down limbs to reinforce the thicket that blanketed the cave entrance.

An older brother, Doage, had scavenged and ax from the body of a troll that he had come across while scavenging for food one day. Doage was able to fell tall trees with the ax and help fuel the fires of the camp. The next winter would not be so harsh the elders thought thanks to Doage. Stronger tools were made after that thanks to the heat generated by these larger logs. Life became just a tad more bearable. Duergar spent many hours searching for roots and pitiful mushrooms that grew out in the shadows of trees. Doage gave Duergar his ax when he became to week to wield it. Some strange sickness had held Doage in its grip and would never let him go. Many in the camp fell to the horrible fever and pain deep within the pits of their belly.

One day near the end of a particularly warm summer the elders of the group came together. An intense discussion followed by a long silence. One by one the young in the group was brought before them just outside the cave. One by one came inside the cave gathered what meager possessions they had and headed out into the blistering heat of the forest. No words passed among them. Duergar came to stand before the only people he knew. He was told that the sickness had taken hold of almost everyone of any antiquity and they would not allow the young to sit and rot to death. So to try and save them, they were being pushed out completely from the cave, the camp. A far better death to battle a troll or be caught sleeping my wolves than the sickness, which ate at them. Duergar returned to the camp and grabbed his pack and ax and set off.

Duergar walked from the camp and did not look back. There was no one there to tug at his heart. His family long since buried would not long for him. Better to face this unknown than face what he had known. For a year he traveled here and there. Always keeping an eye to the mountain with a sense of longing he would never understand. He learned much in those months. How to make spears, and traps to kill small game and fowls. He foraged for roots and drank from small brooks he found along his way. Where he traveled to this day he knows not. From time to time he would spy some people. They were much different in appearance than he. They were slim of build with fair features in stark contrast to his massive chest and limbs. They were taller by a head and a half at least. He gave them plenty of room and did not approach.

The further he roamed the more often he ran into these people, until one day he noticed there were camps of them sprinkled out among the thickets. The trees in this area were thinning noticeably. He noticed a few in the groups who were not that different in appearance to him. One day he was approached by one of them and given some food and welcomed to the fire. His distrust was deep but slowly he came to tolerate the closeness of others. One day one of the group took him into a place that was later explained was a town. Actually it was a huge city and the further in he got the more his eyes wondered. His friend introduced him to a man who lived in a cave that had no mountain. The man showed Duergar how to use some wood to make a miniature spear that had feathers on it. The man said he would pay Duergar to bring him these. Duergar was soon to find out this pay was gold coins and these coins could be used to acquire food and drink.

This idea appealed to him so much that he raced back into the forest not to be seen for 3 months. When he returned to the man he made 50 trips that day with large sacks of these arrows. The man was in total shock, as he had not had this many arrows at one time in his life. Gold was given to Duergar and was soon taken away to be replaced by meals of mushrooms and thick liquid called mead. The man bought every arrow Duergar made for the next year and Duergar was content.

One evening as Duergar strolled from the inn he had taken up residence in (gone were the days of living beneath the stars) he heard the sound of CRACK. A sound like he had never heard before. He looked around and saw a large snake blackened to a crisp and a woman standing over the snake. The woman’s hands were moving mysteriously and the air about her was moving like he was staring across a fire. Duergar heard the lady exclaim, "God I hate snakes". Duergar, eyes wide and mouth open, stood looking at this woman. Little did he know that line would be heard many times over. The woman looked at him and asked him if he was ok. He shook himself out of his stupor and just said, "HOW". A large smile crossed her face and she asked if he knew nothing of magic. That one word would change his life forever.

Duergar talked to the lady for a long time and learned many wondrous things. She all to soon had to leave but said she would return another day and they could talk some more.

Duergar did not see her for a week. One day he rounded a corner and bam there she was. She had another lady with her. She recognized Duergar and greeted him politely. She turned to her friend and introduced her as Furie. Later in life he would find out her name was Jessica Zacharias. Duergar greeted Furie and introduced himself and then turned to the first lady and inquired about her name. The lady apologized for not having given it before. Her name was Seth Madrid of the Knights of Britannia. Furie and Seth humored Duergar and all his questions. In the days and months to come these two would teach and mold Duergar into a novice magician and a recruit to a guild that would become the family he never had.

Although Duergar, now known as Doc because of Seth’s inability to pronounce his name correctly, is now a vastly different person than those days in the forest. He has retained the kindness of heart that was imparted upon him by those two ladies. Doc has lived a far greater life than that that faced him in the cave. He married the beautiful and kind Lady Seth. He buried her years later with the same kind memories he would always hold in his heart. He has acquired things of antiquity many have never seen. Doc is still the same simple soul he was when he came out of the forest. And above all else Duergar is KoB to the core. His story has many chapters with great friends along the way. Furie, Sirus, Crimson, Fredolf, Oberon, Belle, Saliador, Sprite, Tiber, David, Matt, Donee and many others to numerous to count have all become an intricate part of his life. For now Doc will continue his entrepreneurial ways and focus on teaching what he has learned. Stop in and say hello to the old man, he will thank you for stopping by.