Amber's Hold, the final tale of Amber "Mountainheart" Strongbrew

I play Bhaern Grayblood a dwarf bard in an online campaign. Three weeks ago our party was hired to help defend a city called Aranna against an orc horde. During the fighting Amber Strongbrew, the party's druid and cousing to my bard died. Since Bhaern is obsessed with his family and is an experienced story teller he wrote a (dramatized) story about Amber's final fight which he told at her funeral.

My party members seemed to enjoy it so I figured you all might enjoy it as well, so here is the entire eulogy + story.

Eulogy

Today we return Amber Strongbrew, daughter of Malgrum and Jenlin, to the earth. Amber was at times aloof, meddlesome and demanding, especially to the little dwarfling cousin she taught in the art of brewing all those years ago. But by The Mother she was also kind, caring, staunch, fierce, loyal and absolutely devoted to her family, friends and most of all, brewing the best ale this world has ever seen. She has saved my life more than once, a debt I will spend my entire life to repay. I hope entering her story into the Grayblood chronicles can be my first step towards this goal, for although she was not a Grayblood by birth there is no doubt she was one by heart. Now I will share with you the final story of Amber Strongbrew, Druid of the land and hero of Aranna.

Amber’s Hold

It was in the middle of the night when the call came, bells ringing, horns blaring, calling us to war. The camp was in chaos but not our rock, our mountain in this sea of chaos, not our Amber. Together we calmly donned on our armors and girded our weapons and headed out to the breach assigned to our group. It wasn’t long before the endless sea of fire and death came into sight, the sound of the orc horns crashing over us and drums causing the earth to tremble beneath our feet. Right before the orc army charged there was a moment of absolute quiet and when I looked over at my cousin what I saw took my breath away. There she stood looking out over the orc horde, outlined in the fires of war, it almost seemed like she was glowing, she looked like a vision of The Mother with the heart of the mountains beating in her chest.

Suddenly all hell broke loose. Boulders of fire came crashing down from the skies and laid waste to our battle lines, Orc war cries split the skies and their charge made the ground shake with the fury of an earthquake. The savage horde crashed into us like an avalanche and as we clashed with the first wave, I knew we would never be able to hold our line. Before my very eyes Amber took the form of the largest and most terrifying wolf I have ever seen. She jumped through the breach and smashed into the enemy lines, ripping apart one after another. Until a large one-eyed orc rode into the fight on a massive worg, towering over the wolf, now covered in blood and guts.

There on that fateful field outside Aranna they did battle, the barbaric champion on its monstrous mount and the ferocious wolf with the heart of a mountain. They exchanged blow after blow, until the warrior found a hole in the wolf’s defenses and it fell down in a bleeding pile of fur and bones. But suddenly Amber jumped back up, turned back into a dwarf she kept fighting, kept buying time so we could maintain our line and stop the orcs from breaking through. Even as she was surrounded by orcs, desperate to push past the only person standing between them and the barricades. They struck her with blow after blow of their primitive axes and clubs but she kept standing tall, kept fighting. Until at the end the bloodied warg sank its teeth into her shoulder, dragging her to the ground. As she went down the champion’s blade felled her but not before the orc army was forced to retreat before Amber Mountainheart.