The following story was written as an entry to the latest Steem Monsters fantasy story contest. The character is the Grumpy Dwarf. I like him because he's grumpy and because he's a dwarf.

From the Steem Monsters contest announcement page.

Grumpy Dwarf

I was a happy dwarf. Living in the regions of the mountain cold, making a cozy home for my kin and me, hunting in the forests and fishing in the sea. I bothered no one, and no one bothered me. We spent our days spreading cheer, divining hope where'er we could. And working our keep. But, my! How things do change.

The splintering came with no warning, like a sudden clash of clanging steel, and chaos quickly took over. Friends became enemies, and enemies multiplied. Many tried, but few remained on neutral ground. The dragons raged against the gods, the gods tossed bones of fire and stones of flesh at mortals while monsters grew hungry and mean. The world as I knew it had gone, but my family and me continued fending for ourselves, scraping up morsels of meat from whate'er corner we could scrounge, seeking happiness in the humble means of our living. But they wouldn't let us find it.

It was not our war, but we were caught in it just the same.

While out hunting one fine day, I found myself seeking shelter, shelter from a storm. It was no ordinary storm. No rain, no heavy winds. Rather, this storm laid waste with bombardment of fire and ice, of fury and hell.

Out of the painted sky, like a morbid caretaker of the living, a Lightning Dragon swooped in from above the clouds followed by his brothers, Chromatic and Gold. They brought with them the Draykh-Nakha and a thirst for ruin. On first glance, I thought they, too, might be on the hunt, searching for a meal out of some horned game, an ordinary act in the realm. It was not customary for dragons to feast on dwarves, so I held no fear. Little did I know, their intent was far more sinister than making a meal of me. The dragons had been let loose to set aflame the flesh of mortals and to chew on the raw bones of monster and beast.

To meet them, the angry horde of Ferexia rode in from the east. A Giant Roc led the way with an Elemental Phoenix at each wing. On the ground, serpents and demons, ogres and goblins and kobolds marched as ranks of Fire Beetles charred the neighboring farms.

The Dark Eternals came from the west bringing their stench with them. Black and twisted unlife moved slow and deliberate through the flora and fauna of our beautiful land, reforming it into the fodder of death. Haunted Spiders by the thousands crawled over each other and the walking corpses they brought with them. Skeletons sought blood to spill. Wolves ran in packs shedding thorns with every howl. In the rear, an army of spirits, Screaming Banshees, and enchanted evil wisps of the dark made the air feel foul. High above, there was the dark and brooding figure of Lord of Darkness guiding them all by the strength of his dark anima.

Up from the south, the forces of Khymia drove their armies at the pace of an Angel of Light. Warriors, knights, palladins, and feral spirits did their best to keep the land clean, but they, too, had their minds set on some righteous act of war.

The numbing chill of the north propelled itself quickly, freezing everything it saw or touched. Frost Giants turned hills into tundras. Medusas paralyzed with their eyes. Soldiers, elementals, and other rogue miscreants from the sea brought cascades of destruction with every wave.

Just when I thought I'd seen them all, the forest clans arrived. They filtered in between the ranks and files of throng and gang from every splinter on their flanks. Golems and goblins, sorcerers and magi made their presence known with spells, curses, and jinxes. Their voodoo rumbled and tumbled as Rexxies roared and stomped, stomped and roared. Minotaurs, orcs, and nature's spirits each took their turn in finding a foe. Before all was said and done, almost every creature in the splinterlands had entered the fray.

Flame and foil, rock and rime, mace and spear ... arms from every element of the land took its toll on flesh and blood, spirit and goon. Left with no recourse, I hid from the battle. I sought peace, prosperity, happiness, anything but war. I ran, and ran, from the lesions of war to the comfort and heel of life, the life I had known and the life I wanted to create. But that life would be no more.

Blood spilled all over the lands, filling river and stream. Bones slid out of flesh, and flesh ripped off of bones. Flying monsters chewed the meat off those below as those below threw fire, frost, missiles, and ale of ocean and sea in every direction. Duels lasted minutes, hours, days, and weeks. Skirmishes were fought and refought. Clashes began and ended quickly. War became perpetual engagement of foe upon foe. A crusade would begin and end, but war would go on. With no winner in sight.

I slipped through the chaos, somehow, I don't know how, and made my way home to find that the home I had was gone. Destroyed by the armaments of conflagration and deluge. I could not tell if it was fire, stone, water, or ice that did us in, but our home was destroyed and my family killed. I found myself alone.

Happiness turned to tears. I could not bear the loss of my wife and children. For them, death came quickly. But for me, it is e'erlasting. My death is the death of those I love, the memories they left behind, and the knowledge that I will never hold them again. I swore to never seek peace again. Today, I take war to the warmonger. I do not choose sides. I have no need for friends. I am a mercenary with a heart like an obelisk. I will fight for any army that pays me well and feeds me plenty. Massacre is my vengeance.

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