An air of strength and confidence surrounded these fine companions, giving breath to their mighty struggles in the realms far beyond those of mortal Norrath.

The glimmer of dwarven mithren glazed off every surface, telling a tale of battles and loss, impossible odds and bonds of kinship that far surpassed mortality. It was no surprise that their king had called them home in this time of darkness and evil.

I reached up and wiped the sweat from my brow, drawing an arched glance from the blackened clad dwarf named Hoochie. The leader of this small group, he had sent for me in an effort to give honor in the hall of kings, that all brave dwarfs might be remembered in the struggle that lay before them.

“Ye done yet, painter?” Hoochie growled. “Me an’ me kin be needin’ ta prepare for darkness, and thyself be a needin’ to get with’n the gates.”

Indeed, the suns rays had grown long in the sky and the chill of night air held dangerous evils. With a nod, I put the finishing touches on the portrait and bade them to my shoulder. They clasped my shoulder in a staggering bit of approval and the dwarves set up hearty cheers.

As the gates of Kaladim swung shut before me, I paused, looking back at the brave trio who guarded the paths outside. They stood firm, outside the safety of their stone fortress, risking their stout necks to protect those within.

It is bravery and courage such as theirs that distinguishes the mortal men of Norrath, from the Legends.

Hoochie, Hordaek and Xarog.
They stand guard, watchful of all that dare threaten their home.
They are the guardians of the fortress of Butcherblock.
They are the Giants of Kaladim.