THE STORY OF TYRRAN SILVERBEARD
ABRIDGED

  There came a time when Yemtyr, Shaper of the World, looked upon the world and saw that the Dark Brood were destroying all that he had shaped.  He called to council the gods beneath the all-tree, Yemdula, to determine a course of action.
  "Sloaktain's evil minions threaten to destroy all that is good and worthy in the world," said the Shaper.  "We must act, but not directly."
  It was Yemtyr's highest law that the gods may not directly interfere with the affairs of mortals, save for when they were invoked by prayer and sacrifice.
  "A champion is needed," said Aludma, mother of the great seas. "One that will inspire the dwarves and gnomes with his greatness."
  "Such a champion exists, but lies upon his deathbed, felled by a mortal wound," said Iheer, he who perceived all.  "His followers would die for him, if they but could."
  "His age makes him a poor candidate for proper resurrection, assuming that any mage were to attempt it," added Aludma.
  "I can make a new body for him, and Kilnar can place his spirit within, granting him new life," spoke Anvar, the father of all dwarves.
  "I will grant this new form great strength, that he may meet any challenge," said Magtor, god of might.
  "I will grant him great endurance, that he may never become weary," said Salta, god of endurance.
  "I will grant him great toughness, that he may be impossible to slay," said Ballikese the sturdy.
  "Very well.  All this shall be done," proclaimed Yemtyr.  "The new form will be called Tyrran, chosen of the gods."
  "A caution, Yemtyr.  Such gifts could be used against our cause if the Spirit be corrupted.  Let him keep his gifts only so long as his beard is long and full.  To remove the beard is to remove the gifts," said Fillisof, god of wisdom.
  "So be it," proclaimed Yemtyr, and so it was.
  What Yemtyr and the other gods did not know was that Fillisof was sleeping due to a spell placed upon him by Sloaktain.  Sloaktain, disguised as Fillisof, attended the council of the gods.
  Before the body of General Boru Inthemountain could pass on, the gods took his spirit and placed it into the form of Tyrran.  There, he received his gifts from the gods.
  "Never," Tyrran was cautioned, "allow your beard to be removed, for it will be the source of the power the gods have granted to you."
  "Yes, great Anvar." said Tyrran, with his new voice.  Anvar placed Tyrran down on the earth near a great battle.  As Anvar started to depart, Tyrran called to him.
  "Great Anvar, I stand ready to do battle with the Dark Brood, yet I am without weapons and armor.  Am I to go into battle naked and weaponless?"
  "I shall return with weapons and armor as befits a warrior of the gods," Anvar said, and then was gone.
  Anvar, Blacksmith of the Gods, first went to his forge, where he created armor that was wondrous to behold.  With it, a helm of silver and light, and a hammer too heavy for a normal mortal to wield.  These he took to the gods and asked for their gifts to be placed upon them.
  First was Strumand, god of the sky fires, who placed a bolt of lightning within the hammer.  "Any struck by this hammer will feel my power behind it," said he. 
  Second was Iheer, who placed her hand upon the helm,  "Any who where this helm will see, hear and smell with senses divine," said she.
  Third was Deftor, god of skill, who placed his hand upon the armor, "Any who where this armor will possess ability unsurpassed," said she.
  Thus did Tyrran receive more gifts from the gods.  When Anvar presented the armor, helm and hammer to Tyrran, he did weep with joy at the prospect of facing the Dark Brood with powers divine to aid him.  Tyrran thanked Anvar, and all the gods, then suited up and turned to face the legions of evil minions upon the field of battle.  Tyrran waded into the battle with a joyous roar, striking down all who stood before him.  None could withstand the chosen of the gods.  Goblin weapons harmed him not.  None could catch him unawares.  His strength was that of ten Ogres.  His speed was like the wind.  When the battle was over, he was hailed far and wide as the great champion Tyrran Silverbeard, for his beard had indeed become like silver, the mark of the gods.
  Many were Tyrran's feats, as he slew monster upon monster, won battle upon battle.  The Dark Brood feared it may soon be destroyed.  But evil Sloaktain had insured that Tyrran had a weakness he could exploit.  He had but to remove Tyrran's beard, and heroic dwarf would be vulnerable.
  However, Sloaktain could not approach Tyrran directly, for the Helm of Perception would immediately discover his presence.  Unable to act directly, Sloaktain tasked a Goblin sorcerer, called Hayrwhort, to find a way to remove Tyrran's beard.
  The sorcerer considered the problem at length, then devised a plan as vile and evil as any Goblin ever had.  Hayrwhort called for a Goblin maid and a female Dwarvin prisoner.  The Goblin maid, called Tuthrhott, was as hideous as the Dwarvin maid, called Goldspinner, was beautiful.  Hayrwhort commanded that the skins be removed from each and sent onto the other.  Both maids suffered terribly and their cries shook the earth.  Thus Goldspinner was sewn into the skin of Tuthrhott, and Tuthrhott was sewn into the skin of Goldspinner.
  "Go to the Dwarvin camps and find Tyrran Silverbeard.  If you can catch him out of his armor, find a way to remove his beard." ordered Hayrwhort.  Frightened, and in terrible pain, the Goblin maid in Dwarves clothing left the caves and journeyed to the dwarvin camps.  Many times she had to hide, lest she be attacked by Ogres, Trolls or, strangely enough, other Goblins.
  After nine days of travel, she made it to the Dwarvin camps where she was challenged by two guards.
  "Halt!  State thy name and thy purpose!" demanded the first guard.
  "I be Goldspinner, escaped from the Goblin camps." lied Tuthrhott. "I seek sanctuary."
  "You will be escorted to the commander.  He shall determine your fate," said the second guard, who then escorted Tuthrhott into the camp.  There, the commander saw the dirty, ragged Tuthrhott, on whose skin were many scars from being sewn together.  Believing she had been tortured, and in truth, she had, Commander Strongarm ordered that she be bathed, dressed in fresh clothing and given medical aid.  When this was done, Tuthrhott was a beautiful sight to behold.  Even the faint scars where the skin had been sewn together did not mar her stolen beauty.  She was allowed free run of the camp for as long she cared to remained.
  When she first saw Tyrran, she had to flee from his sight, for he was wearing the Helm of Perception, which could pierce the veil of her stolen skin.  So, too, the second time she saw him.  On her third opportunity, Tyrran was wearing neither armor, nor helm, though he held tightly to his Hammer of Thunder, called 'Blitzthrang'. 
  Tuthrhott approached Tyrran and made the gestures of a female that desires a mate to him.  Though a mighty warrior, Tyrran still was a male, and in the manner of his kind was interested in the companionship of females.  He took the disguised Tuthrhott to his tent, that he might come to know her better.  There, they sat, drinking fine ale and talking.  What Tyrran did not know, was that every time Tuthrhott poured him an ale, she added a powerful poison that would have killed any mortal dwarf.  Tyrran drank many poisoned ales that night, and only the gift of Ballikese forestalled his death.  But in time, he fell asleep and was vulnerable to the disguised gobliness.
  When Tyrran awoke the next morning, his beard was shorn off and strewn about the room.  Here, on the eve of the most important of battles, he was made powerless.  The beard gone, he lacked the strength to lift the mighty Hammer of Thunder.  Fearing to wear the divine armor and helm without his beard, Tyrran called for his lieutenants.
  "My power has been stolen from me, but we cannot allow this to demoralize our armies.  Each of you take up my fallen beard, and give a strand of hair to each soldier.  Though I am bereft the gifts of the gods, still will I lead you into battle," Tyrran proclaimed. "And we shall prevail!"
  The lieutenants did as ordered and gave one strand of hair to each and every warrior, and when the warriors held the strand up to their own beards, the strand attached itself to their flesh!  Each, now believing himself to possess a fraction of Tyrran's power, was emboldened and ready to do battle.  The sight of their beardless leader only confirmed their belief that he had granted his power to his army, instead of keeping it all for himself.
  Singing and clanging their weapons to their shields, the army marched out to face the vast army of ogres, trolls, gnolls and goblins.
  The battle was furious and lasted three days and three nights.  On the morning of the fourth day, the dwarves had claimed a narrow victory.  Whenever any warrior spoke of the battle, he would always say that the dwarves had won it 'by a hair'.
  As for Tuthrhott, she was found dead on the battlefield, slain by a goblin that mistook her for a dwarfess.  Goldspinner, trapped in the skin of Tuthrhott, had escaped from the Goblin camp and followed the Dark Broods army.  During the battle she slew from behind Hayrwhort, also present for the great battle.  After slaying Hayrwhort, she ripped the vile skin from her body and died, faceless and alone.  But Rhigohr, god of the underworld, finding her worthy, took her to the underworld paradise of the dwarves, where a new skin was fashioned from gold and sewn to her body, more beautiful than ever before.
  Tyrran himself had suffered a fatal wound, and found himself once more on his deathbed.  But he was not afraid, for brave dwarves who have fought well have naught to fear from the gods.  When his body perished, his spirit was taken up to the highest branches of the All-tree, Yemdula, to look upon all the world, and, if the need be great enough, one day return to protect his peoples once again.
