I had been walking with Logrom for the better part of 2 hours and during this time period learned many things about dwarven culture and biology, some would even say an uncomfortable amount, as most people did not want to know that dwarven genitalia was not just girthy, but long and girthy.... very girthy. This was of course when I asked Logrom for a change of subject and he just wiggled his eyebrows at me and then proceeded to get even more in depth about dwarven mating rituals, and then proceeded to tell me that beard hair ripping was the dwarven to human equivalent of hardocre sadism and emasculation during sex. As usual I could not tell for the life of me whether he was completely serious or just fucking with me, but I took it all with rapt interest just the same, also during this period I had managed to bump up my relationship with the dwarf to higher levels, most likely thanks to the traits that made it easier to bump my relationship scores with people as long as I was a good samaritan and volunteered at soup kitchens or whatever.

Your relationship with Logrom Grumblespine has improved to Drinking Buddy, Also a dwarf thing (+3000 to +7500) for the act of him getting to know and better trust you, don't break this trust, there are not many forces more spiteful on Eo than a disappointed dwarf.

Luckily we had managed to move on into conversations that involved less euphemisms about the dwarven penis, and by less I meant a large amount instead of every other word, one thing was for sure, ethier dwarves one and all had the mouths of a drunken sailor, or Lorgrom was just a very gifted and talented dwarf.

"Ah human drinking Dwarven Ale is kinda like making love to ah dwarven women, Sure at first it's ah overpowering and horrifying experience, but once you get past the fact that it's stronger than you are, has hair in places yere pretty sure it shouldn't, and makes yah feel like a wee pansie and you just get drunk on the sensations of it, it's an absolute blast. Right up until yah pass tha out from overexertion, it's ah experience tha all dwarven men canna remember and cherish I tell yah."

Talking to Logrom was also kind of like riding a rollercoaster, sure sometimes it was horrifying and made you wanna hurl, but it also was a shitton of fun if you had the courage and stomach for it. The perpetual honesty and upfrontness of the man was also a extremely refreshing experience, after having to deal with people all my life that just skirted around issues and problems they had with you to avoid upsetting you, which for me was extremely annoying as I preferred that if you had a problem with me to just talk about it so we could come up with a resolution. I also now knew how to tell apart dwarven men and women, though Logrom insisted that all dwarves had beards I had the sneaking suscipion that he was once again playing a practical joke, luckily telling them apart from appearance of beard alone was just Logrom fucking with me. According to Logrom it was pretty apparent when a dwarf spoke from their voice what gender they were, and even if they had a rather confusing voice for their gender, you could probably tell from their name and stature what their gender was, he doing a pretty good job of mixing truth with fact, I also really hoped that female dwarves didn't have beards, As Logrom very eloquently put it.

"Male and Female dwarves are very similar in height and weight normally, What'a sets them apart is tha distribution of that'a weight, Male dwarves ara top haevy, bigger chests and biceps for carryin things and puttin axes in goblin faces, While'a female dwarves are bottom haevy, witha big birthin hips, and thighs for carryin forge equipment, Dwarves are wide at birth too ya know. Though if imma honest with maself I like this evolutionary trait for more reasons thana just the fact that me mum is less likely to get hurt while pushin me out."

The dwarf of course said that last sentence while wiggling his rather large caterpillar like orange eyebrows, as he knew it made me slightly uncomfortable and therefore found it hilarious. Logrom was a rather boisterous person as was true for the rest of the race, he was short but very wide and muscular especially around the back and chest areas as were most all dwarfs. What set Logrom apart was that he was especially proud of his beard, which was heavily ornamented with artistic silver clasps and intricately braided, he also insisted before we set off to the Dwarf Fortress of Last Stand that he clean the fish guts off of it in the stream because as he put it "Mah wife will kill me if I come home with mah beard smelling like ah fishes taint, and than how will I get some sweet lovin from mah wife after ah hard day's work? I nearly got killed, and some alone time with me lass would be glorious for relieving some of mah stress." I felt like the last part was added just to fuck with me, but then again " too much information" was not a thing in dwarven culture. As we were walking I remembered something that I was curious about but that had faded to the back ground that I wanted to ask, I remembered that Logrom has offhandedly mentioned a dwarven curse of some variety and it was what I hoped would be a conversation topic that could get him to stop making euphemisms about how dwarven smithing is similar to dwarven marriage and child care, both of which were rather hardcore in dwarven culture thought of more as a form of art than a job, as dwarven teenagers were some of the most stubborn, obstinate, and pigheaded people on the planet, and arguments between dwarven husbands and wives were like a sport to the dwarves, and legendary between the other races who had the honor to witness one. whoever could say the angriest, most disgusting, and loudest insults without actually getting angry, while still intertwining your insult and your reasoning in the same sentence, won the argument.

"Hey Logrom, forgive my ignorance but you mentioned something about a dwarven curse earlier and i'm afraid i've never actually heard anything about such a thing. Do you think you can explain what this curse is if you don't find?"

"Nice try friend, but yere going to learn the similarities between holy matrimony and creating a masterwork dwarven weapon whether you like it or not!. AS I WAS SAYIN BEFORE I WAS RUDELY INTERRUPTED!"

"No Logrom really, while it's true that your culture is rather strange to me and I would like to save more talk about dwarven culture for later as my head hurts from the info dump you've already given me. I really do know nothing about the dwarven curse, I'm not exactly from around the local human kingdoms." Logrom raised his eyebrows in a incredulous "Oh Really?" motion, while crossing his arms and turning to face me. This look dropped off his face as he looked towards his truth amulet with a confused and aggrieved expression on his face."

"Yere serious aren't you?, Have you been livin under ah rock in tha ground all yere life! or are the humans so ashamed of not helpin us in out in our time ah need! that they just tore us from tha history books!, AND FORGOT ABOUT US ALL TOGETHER!! THE DISGRACEFUL, DISHONORABLE, GOBLIN FUCKERS!"

"Hey Lorgom! if it's that sensitive of a subject you don't have to talk about it you know, i'm not going to force you to tell me about something that's so very sensitive, even if I am admittedly very curious." The little man looked up at me with a fuming expression on his face, But he didn't look angry at me but just at the fact that he thought the entirety of humanity had cast off the dwarves like dirty laundry out of the history books."

"No i'm going to tell you the history of the dwarven curse, and yere going to sit down, shut up, and listen witha rapt attention! It's my duty as one'a the dwarven race to pass on the legacy of the dwarves in anyway I can, for as long as I can. Right up until every last dwarf is once again one with the stone. So let's sit down for now and let me tell you the story of the enacting of the curse of Glimblor's Law. It all starts with Armok, Leader of tha Dwarven Pantheon an God of Smithing An Honor, Armok wasa up in tha Celestial Realms gambling with his ah recent addition to the Elven Pantheon, Glimblor A Elven Trickster God, Armok was especially hammered on divine ale taday and Glimblor had on their first meeting convinced the inebriated Armok to bet the Artifact crossbow Impaler The Ever Crippling, that Armok had made a few years back in a game of gambling, after some haggling the treacherous elven god convinced Armok to bet the crossbow in a game that was completely luck based, where the first person to reach a total of 100 on rolling 2 six sided dice would win. If the elf won he would get the crossbow, if Armok won the elf would have to wear a pink sparklin tutu to the next meeting that at least 10 Gods attended. But alas, a elven god wearing a pink tutu was not to be, Glimblor won bya one point with Armok getting 99 to Glimblor's 100. Armok was understandably disappointed by this, but he was a honorable dwarf and fair was fair, or at least he thought."

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"A few hours later as Armok was workin on buildin his next Artifact, when Grilgrun Dwarven God of Insight, Hindsight, an only some Foresight went over to Armok and asked if he could borrow the Ever Crippler as some nambie pambie Demon Lord named Xanolluur had insulted him for the fact that a god of truth seeing could see the truth of the past and present, but not the future while the Demon Lord could. Grilgrun was going to go over there and show that Demon what for, but as Grilgrun was ranting about all the things he would do to the Demon Lord, Armok informed him that he had lost the Ever Crippler in a gambling game with Glimblor, but it was one of pure luck so he hadn't been tricked. This was when Grilgrun informed Armok that Glimblor was not only a trickster God, but also a God of Luck and that he was a fucking idiot when he was drunk. He then told Armok with his limited foresight that he should go kick that elfs ass, Armok in his drunken and furious state agreed, Then in a fury burst out of his workshop gates for dramatic effect and then teleported to Glimblor's divine domain.

Glimblor simply looked at the aggrieved dwarf with ah smug an knowing expression on his face, daring to tell the dwarf that he had made a deal an that he should honor as a real dwarf should. they say that the expression on Armoks face as his Honor and Fury warred for dominance enough to make Demons shit their breaches in terror, normally Armok, being the great and powerful divinity that he is, would have been able to do something that was impossible for most mortal dwarfs and resist his rage no matter if he was drunk or not. But Armok was not just any kind of drunk, smashed, pissed, or hammered, Armok was an absolute trainwreck, and they say that for the first time in the millenia that had taken place Armok since Armok had ascended to divinity, Armok blacked out, the combination of 15 barrels Divine Dwarven Moonshine, and horrible furious anger at being tricked and insulted by a no good dishonorable elf was simply too much for any dwarf to handle."

"When Armok awakened he was lying with the Ever Crippler in his hands sitting on the partially destroyed golden throne of Glimblor The Gambler, it appeared to be half turned to slag and horribly deformed from it's once admittedly wonderful craftsmanship, still a bit elfy though. Even through Armok's godly hangover he noticed that the forest realm where Glimblor lived was very much on fire and still burning. He then had his anger flare as he looked for that bastard Glimblor that he still had to get some kind of recompense from, until he noticed a shape floating in what seemed to be a pool of dwarven feces that he think he had at some point teleported to Glimblor's realm. This shape was the craven form of Glimblor, floating in a pool of dwarven shite with an arrow from the Ever Crippler in his groin, dwarven vengeance seemed to have already been exacted in a drunken dwarven blackout, it was actually common for the first thing blackout drunk dwarves did is to try and exact vengeance on their enemies. But i’m getting off topic, anyways justice had been exacted, and Armok simply nodded in satisfaction, as Glimblor seemed to be still alive despite the arrow in his crotch and the pool of dwarven shite he was floating in.

But this fair and honorable vengeance was not without price, for no honorable deed will go unpunished, after a few years of everything going on as normal, besides having Glimblor trying to trick Armok into doing things which would hurt him or the dwarven race, which always failed as whenever Glimblor was around Armok just called up Grilgrun for his great insight on avoiding being tricked. Until eventually Glimblor stopped coming to try and trick Armok, it is said that he in fact stopped coming out of his now fortified against teleportation divine realm at all. He stayed in his divine realms, acting like the scared, underhanded little pansie he was. Until one day as Armok was finishing up another Artifact armor set for one of his greatest champions, he noticed that the amount of dwarves transitioning to the afterlife has multiplied exponentially in seconds, in a panic he shifted his attention to tha mortal realms, watchin in horror as more complicated dwarven machinery failed catastrophically and Kabboomed outwards destroying entire dwarven settlements in seconds, dwarves outside across the realm were struck by lighting reapeatedly, an monster hordes an tribes redirected their warpaths towards dwarven settlements and towns, seemingly at random. the amount of rockslides and avalanches happenin in dwarven mines multiplied by 200 times in just ah week, forge spills, machinery failures, and other seemingly random an increasingly improbable failures seemed to happen as if they were ordained by fate to do so by any means necessary, an the great dwarven race started to slowly but surely, despite it's empire and banner spanning half tha continent, shrinked an died like a dwarven erection after seeing a elf shave a dwarf's beard."

"An finally after centriues weh find ourselves here, in tha last surviving dwarven mountain hold in Eo, slowly dyin out from rock slides, water contamination, and goblin raids, the great dwarven race brought low by tha curse of a cowardly an deceitful elfish deity because they wouldn't own up to being tricking the Allfather, an the worst part is that the bastard god can't undo the curse because casting it cost him so much power it went up an killed him before tha council of gods could force him to undo it for interfering directly in mortal affairs. Now every dwarf is born with a curse embedded in their status sheet, something that will hound them throughout their entire lives, that my friend is tha curse of Glimblor's Law, what can go wrong will, an small mistakes are punished with tha death of the offending dwarf. Make no mistake Gabriel, the world is quite literally out to get tha dwarves. I don't know how ya don't know about somethin that at least used ta be common knowledge from what I know. *Sigh*.... All this talk abouta The Curse has gotten me all bitter, and it's no use for ah dwarf to be sour at our lot, I'd personally much rather spend mah final days gettin shit faced with mah fellow dwarves and mah newest friend, and when we do you're going to tell me what rock ya buried yereself under to not know about tha dwarven curse. Now let's get going again, were close to tha first wall of tha Fortress and i'm parched fere ale, also could you pull tha fish cart? I already smell like fish, an you can consider it repayment for gettin me worked up an for me answering yere question."

I couldn't argue with that logic, and he did look rather tired from pulling the wheelbarrow with a 600 pound fish all this way, he also hadn't complained about having to carry it all this way at all.

"Of course Logrom and thank you for informing me about the curse, even if it upset you, if I knew it was so personal to all the dwarves I wouldn't have asked at all."

"Nonsense lad, if dwarves shied away from things that were painful that we would have already offed ourselves already, and you dinna mean any harm by it so it's no problem. And if yere still sore abouta making me get mah britches in ah twist about The Curse when we get there, then yah can apologize by buying me a round of ale at the tavern. Now where was I about marriage and dwarven masterworks? Ah! as I was saying both marriage an making masterwork weapons are a lifelong endeavor."