A question was asked concerning Ragnar's father's Battleaxe which he would like to track down and retrieve at some point. Forgot you guys couldn't read the backstory I made for him so here it is. The sky was clear this particular day, a welcome sight from the last stormy several. The ship rocked to and fro as the wind carried it towards its destination. Ragnar Stoneheart sat himself in the center of the ship, tempted to tie himself down to the mast. Normally he'd do everything in his power to avoid the water, let alone going to sea, but he had little choice in the matter. His hometown was originally in northern Ireland, a small village with maybe a few hundred people in it. His father was a respectable blacksmith, specializing in the forging of strong armor, who had a fondness for drinking while his mother, was an attractive bar maid, who often had to pick him up off the floor. Life in the village was generally quiet, outside the occasional merchant and travelers, there weren't too many visitors to the lands so the people generally kept to themselves. The eastern side of the village was full of trees, while the western side of the village had a large river with many farmsteads along it. For the most part they were self-sufficient, which was both a blessing and a curse. It had happened on a night of a full moon, the skies were clear and stars could be seen sprawled across the horizon. The peaceful night's sounds were interrupted and replaced by horrifying screams of terror and pain. Ragnar was awoken with a shock as his father crashed into his room, yelling for him to get up and get ready to leave. Quickly dressing and grabbing a small pack, he exited his room to see his mother closing packs for herself and his father. He tried to ask what was going on, but was quickly hushed and hurried out the backdoor of the house. He looked down the main road, seeing a roaring fire at the edge of the village and hearing brief screams, shortly replaced with silence. The Stonehearts quickly moved south down the road towards the opposite end of the village, several other families doing the same. Upon reaching the other end of the village, a small contingent of men and women could be seen. About thirty or so militia and guards had gathered together, one of which approached Ragnar's father. He couldn't hear much of the conversation, but could see the anger in the man's face when his father refused to take up arms stating they were fools, that there were too many attackers. His father hurried them down the road as the armed group marched towards the screams. The Stonehearts didn't make it far before abruptly stopping, looking down the road in horror as a few of the families ahead of them were overrun. Ragnar couldn't make out what they were exactly, he only saw small shapes mounted on beasts stabbing into the fleeing dwarves. With the south road no longer being an option, the Stonehearts fled to the east and into the forest, hoping they would be able to evade their pursuers there. Ragnar looked back briefly seeing the village almost entirely in flames and people streaming out in all directions, some heading for the forest behind them. This ended up being bad for the Stonehearts as it attracted the attention of some of the attackers. Their pursuers, on foot, gained on them before they were even a half mile into the forest. Fighting could be heard as groups of people were caught by the attackers, screams of pains and anguish filled the night and still the Stoneheart family fled as quickly as they could. It did not take long before a couple of the attackers had finally caught up with the family, forcing Ragnar's father to drop his pack and draw his mighty battle axe. Ragnar saw some of the attackers for the first time as they approached, their faces grizzled with piercing brown and red eyes, their bodies full of muscles and almost twice the height of his father's. He remembered stories that his mother had told him about these creatures, the ruthless and vile orcs. His father quickly dispatched of the first attacker with a solid swing, caving in the orc's armor and chest, but in turn getting stuck leaving him unable to engage the second attacker who tackled him to the ground. They wrestled around the ground as Ragnar and his mother watched in horror, unsure of how it would end. After several blows and the two fighting for the upper hand, the orc finally managed to pin his father under him. The orc reached over for the closest thing it could fine, a giant rock, grabbing it in one hand and preparing to bring it crushing down on his father's face. Ragnar didn't have time to think, seeing a throwing axe attached to his father's pack, he picked it up and hurled it towards the orc, sending it sinking into its spine. The orc froze, unable to move, and gasped its last breath as it fell over to the side. His father stood shakily, looking down at his son and nodding with a small smile on his face, it is always a proud day when a father gets to witness his son's first orc kill he said as he leaned over to retrieve his axe. The celebration was not long lasting, however, as his father stopped completely, eyes widened. He muttered only one word to them... run.... before falling over face first into the ground, an arrow protruding out of his back. His mother wailed as she grabbed him by the arm and began to flee further into the woods making it only a couple more yards before losing her balance and tripping over a tree root. The two scurried behind the tree, and time seemed to slow down for Ragnar. He could hear the footsteps of the orc charging towards them from the other side of the tree, his mother's eyes full of tears as she pushed him away telling him to run and not look back. He got up and ran as quickly as he could away from both of them, hearing a brief scuffle followed shortly by a scream and then silence. Ragnar ran for what seemed like an hour before his legs gave out and he collapsed to the ground, barely able to catch his breath. He laid there on the cold ground, while he slowly lost consciousness. He wandered the woods for quite some time, surviving off what little he had in his pack and what his father had taught him about the forest. After a few days, he managed to reach the other side of it where he encountered a merchant who traveled through his village a number of times trading goods from other lands. The merchant had happened to be on his way to Ragnar's village, but upon hearing the grim news decided to head back to the city with Ragnar in toe. The plan was to board the ship and head back before this city too was over-run by orcs, and with little elsewhere to go, Ragnar decided to follow him. He did not know what his future had in store for him, nor what he would run into along the way, all he did know for certain was that he'd return home one day and seek revenge on those who slaughtered his family.
