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I had been summoned by Grimmold, the King of the Dwarves. 'What now?' I thought to myself as I was brought before him. As we feasted he told me the tale of Valk the evil magician and how he had stolen the fabled hammer of the dwarves, The Hammer of Grimmold, symbol of dwarven health and virility. My mind became fuddled as I quaffed the horns of ale, and it was not long before the King had persuaded me to set out and bring back their lost hammer. Amongst cheers, good wishes and much back-slapping, they sent me on my way. Grimmold assured me that if I returned with the hammer my name would become legend and would be sung by bards for all time. As the cheering and singing faded and became mere echoes I could hear him shout "Remember to say my name when you meet a friend!"
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