The wizard, Yolgothorung, sent against me a golem: unkillable, made of metal known only to his arcane science.
I fought the golem for hours until I was bruised and nearly dead from exhaustion. Had I not been able to push it from atop the cliffs at Mandorum it would have taken my spine. I fled without shame; I knew it would follow. Inside the mountain, it blundered into a hastily-prepared dwarven trap. Held in the grip of their clamps, it was rendered helpless.
Even now they hammer it, white-hot and still living, into the shape of a suit of armor.
Post a Comment