The Explosionist (Kildeghain Treesmasher)

[Sir_Carnifex]

A large dwarf with short grayish-white hair sat on a bench speaking to himself. His rather mussed beard was much darker than the rest of his hair, and appeared to be cut in an odd manner. His hands were toughened and very much blistered, as in much use, or perhaps, abuse. His brow wrinkled in intense concentration, and he was sweating feverishly even as he busied himself. Directly in front of him was a solid wooden table, though splintered and cracking through much wear. Resting on the tabletop were bottles - dozens of bottles - and a few mugs. An assortment of scattered boxes and leather pouches also crowded the surface, adding to the clutter. Behind him were several wooden beams lined with hooks on which hung a few lit torches. Other than the faint glow emitted by these, the little room was darkened. The dwarf's eyes were well-adjusted to the dimness however, and he continued to focus intently on his task.

*POIK*

With a upward thrust of his stubby thumb, he shot the cork from a bottle and raised the container to eye level, gazing at it for a moment and nodding in satisfaction. As he prepared to put the contents to use, a gruff voice from out in the nearby passage carried into the room.

"Kildeghain, are ye in there wit' yer bottles agin?"

His attention distracted, he slammed the two objects back down with a resounding bang and shouted back out the door. "Blast it, can't ye ever leave me alone when I be mixin' the stuff?" He leapt to his feet and kicked the heavy door shut. The noise traveled throughout the cramped space and hid the grumbling response of the voice's owner outside. Satisfied that his fellow dwarf was retreating back down the narrow passage, Kildeghain sat back down to resume.

Hurriedly, he poured some of the contents of the first bottle into a mug, then picked up another bottle, then another and proceeded to mix them. His eyes almost seemed to glow as he fixed them on the growing contents of the huge mug in front of him. He proceeded to grab the only bottle left unused, speaking to himself in obvious triumph.

"An' jus' a bit more o' this. Ah HA! That should do 'er. Hmm... lemme try 'er now."

He hoisted an old, rusty axe that had been lying on the floor and began to coat the blade with the new concoction he had just made. Another layer. Then another. Feeling that he had added enough, the dwarf sprinkled the blade with a fine powder, then set it to rest inside a metal basin. He grinned to himself while rubbing his hands together in glee.

"An' now, fer da final touches. Aye, this should be fine. Me axe o' explosions will be the grand'st weapon'n all o' Faerun. But...eh, now where'd...ah there it be!" Stooping to the ground, he picked up what looked like a small metallic bowl and placed it over his massive head, then buckled on a metal plate resembling armor. Suitably protected, Kildeghain then snatched a burning torch and thrust it into the metal basin with the axe. He dove for cover behind a sturdy pillar and waited.

The axe head burned slowly and began to glow.

Sparks flew.

A few pops and crackles.

Then one deafening explosion that shook the entire room.

The tremors caused the entire underground place to shudder. Pieces of rock and mounds of dirt fell to the floor as the room began to break apart. Dozens of voices echoed through the halls yelling and barking orders, and Kildeghain, who had been flung to the far wall, could hear the heavy footfalls running by him to the exit even over the reverberating din of the cavein. With tremendous effort, he scrambled to his feet and plowed his way up outdoors...