Several pages are filled with notes transcribing a story as told in rapid shorthand, messier than usual. There are several places where the notes become almost scribbles and at least one place where a line indicates the writer’s hand jerked in surprise, leaving an unintended mark. A few doodles of Dwarves and frogs fill the margins in various size ratios.
A handful of notes in a more organized form, in the same shorthand, fill several more pages before the writing resolves into a clear hand to tell the story (or at least some version thereof) in neat letters.
Beneath the waters of the Bruinen lurks an amphibious terror. Known only as the Dire-frog, this great beast awaits the presence of unsuspecting prey hoping for an easy meal.
But on one fateful day, the hapless prey proved perhaps not so hapless…
Here follows the tale of Maurr Bourrul and the Dire-frog of the Bruinen, a tale of might and victory in the most unusual of places -- a riverbed.
All know of a Dwarf’s love of ale, yet perhaps less are aware of a different passion: hunting.
Thus it was that when a sage Elf-guide warned this foolhardy brave Dwarf of the giant frog that plagued the waters, his eyes lit with excitement.
Soon this Dwarf had lept into the waters, bereft of any weapons or even the metal limb he wore on one handless arm, swimming down with powerful strokes into the depths of Tar Bruinnen. Reeds clutched at him and weeds threatened to pull him down before he even came close to his foe yet he surged through and pushed on.
The silt stirred ahead and in front of him there loomed a great shadow… the Dire-frog of the Bruinnen, seeking its prey. A red light gleamed in the eyes of the giant frog, and its size matched even that of its enemy as it lurched faster than lighting to clamp huge jaws onto the arm of the brave Dwarf!
Pain shot through his arm as the grip tightened. A foe any stronger and the hand would have been lost.
Yet…
The arm bore no hand and in the mind of Maurr he laughed in triumph.
With a kick behind which strove all the might of ancient Dwarf-strength he kicked free and reached the surface in mere moments, breaking the river’s waters with a mighty surge.
Dark reeds yet obscured his vision but as he turned, the mighty beast rose up in front of him, and its huge bulk glared down upon him. This was no mere frog, but indeed a mighty beast of slime and sinew near twice his bulk and height.
The undaunted Dwarf refused to back down even so, lunging to grapple this monster and lock its limbs in a mighty grasp.
The beast fought back.
With one burst of motion, it dragged him under, deep into the depths of the riverbed. There they battled, wrestling and grappling, strengths matched in a great battle! At last, as the final breaths of air seemed nigh to be forced from his lungs, the Dwarf locked his legs around the legs of his foe and wrenched the again-caught stump to force the mighty beast to the surface.
In one move, the frog found itself somersaulted onto solid dirt, slammed into the dry earth by a skilled move of its foe. Maurr planted a foot in triumph and cheered to his companions that looked on in awe. The beast was felled!
And yet he did not slay it.
For in that moment of triumph he met its eyes and saw there an equal in power and might, a worthy foe, and even the hunger for meat was quelled with the Dwarvish nobility and respect for such an opponent.
Breaking free of the weeds that entwined his limbs, he snatched up a blade and cut the mighty beast free of its own entanglements, bidding it swim free.
But his nobility was betrayed.
For this Dire-frog had no honor, a being full of malice and slime, and in that moment it seized his travelling companion, a young woman of the Mark, in its evil jaws.
With sword in hand the brave Dwarf turned and strove against the beast, and it quelled before his rage. The light in his eyes shone brighter than even its malice and fear struck its shrivelled heart.
In a moment, it was gone, the cowardly bulk fled back into the murky depths, and the Dwarf returned to his companions the victor over this great monster.
It lives there still, awaiting the day a rematch shall come. Yet let it beware, for it has been bested before and the great Maurr shall show it no mercy if they meet again
