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"Tomorrow, the field of battle will be awash with Elf blood. We will take a heavy toll to make them pay for their treacheries."
Morgrim, the Elfdoom.

Morgrim Elgidum - "Elfdoom," was the nephew of High King Gotrek Starbreaker, cousin of Snorri Halfhand and one of the greatest Dwarf warriors since Grimnir himself.

History

Along with his uncle, Morgrim led the the Dwarfs during the War of Vengeance and personally killed Prince Imladrik, brother of Phoenix King Caledor I. He became known as Elgidum or "Elf-doom" during the war for the great number of Elves he killed. It was prophesised many years before the War that Morgrim would slay the Dragon of Tor Alessi and become a great King; which he did upon the death of High King Gotrek.

Elfdoom

Morgrim Elgidum, the Elfdoom, stepped up onto the large, icy rock. His nail-studded boots sounded sharply in the silence of the cold, crisp air. Unconsciously stroking his full beard, he gazed over the edge of the precipice. Through the slowly drifting clouds he could just make out tiny figures on the plains far below. His cold, grey eyes narrowed, and he felt the slow-burning rage inside him flare. The news had arrived that morning that the High King’s son, the proud warrior Snorri Halfhand, had been slain; cut down dishonourably by the black-hearted Elven King Caledor. Snorri was Morgrim’s young cousin, and the pair had fought and feasted at each other’s side on many occasions. Tomorrow, Morgrim and his stalwart kin would face the treacherous Elves on the plains and crush them utterly. They would march relentlessly through the night, descending along the twisting mountain paths through the darkness, their desire for vengeance pushing them ever onwards. Turning, the proud Dwarf Lord surveyed his kinsmen as they marched down through the deepening chasm, some fifty feet from his position. The steady beat of hard boots on stone and deep resounding chanting echoed up towards him as darkness slowly descended. Smiling grimly to himself, Morgrim stepped off the rock, sinking up to his knees in the snow that had begun to fall again, and began to work his way back to join his comrades.

A deafening roar suddenly echoed up from behind him, and Morgrim swung around, pulling the heavy, rune-encrusted axe from his back. Standing looking over the cliff-face, the hellish noise got louder until, with a tremendous burst of air an immense blue Dragon screamed up over the precipice from below. Squinting his eyes against the biting cold wind, Morgrim snarled up at the immense creature as it shot into the sky overhead. An armoured figure rode upon the back of the proud creature and, seeing Morgrim below, gestured towards him with an ornate lance. The dragon twisted effortlessly through the air, coiling lithely overhead to face the lone Dwarf. It plummeted from the sky, dropping through the falling snow towards Morgrim, immense talons poised to strike and the Dragon Prince’s lance aimed squarely at his chest.

A flurry of crossbow bolts streaked through the air towards the diving creature, ricocheting harmlessly off its gleaming blue scales. Huge, slitted eyes filled with intelligence and cunning were locked on the Dwarf Lord. As it neared, it reared up so as to pass over the Dwarf, and several black-shafted bolts punched into its soft underbelly. It screeched, more in shock than actual pain, and veered to the left. The skillful Dragon Prince compensated for this sudden movement, changing the angle of his lance, and struck out at Morgrim as the dragon swept overhead.

Holding his double-headed axe tightly in steady hands, Morgrim slashed it across his body with astounding swiftness, shattering the lance that descended towards him. Runes on the axe-haft left a glowing trail of light through the air. With a lightning follow-up move, Morgrim whipped the axe over his head, cutting a deep gouge along the dragon’s hind leg as it rolled through the air above him. Although he could hear the shouts of his comrades, who were running heavily through the snow to reach him, the grim Dwarf knew they would not arrive in time to aid him. The dragon rose into the air, turning gracefully before descending towards him once more.

Pulling up sharply just before the Dwarf Lord, the creature opened its mouth wide, its jaw overextending and its chest expanding with a sharp intake of air. A burst of roaring flame billowed out of the serpentine maw, rolling over Morgrim. Steam rose in a great hissing cloud as snow and ice melted under the furnace, but the grim figure remained untouched. Flames gushed around him harmlessly as ancient runes on his armour and helmet glowed brightly. Frustrated, the dragon lurched towards the Dwarf with a savage roar, eyes filled with malevolence. Snow and ice remained untouched by the heat in a perfect circle around Morgrim, who let out a roar of his own, raising his axe high above his head.

The dragon lunged forwards, its head darting out to snap at the lone figure. Morgrim swung his axe in a powerful arc, impacting with the side of the blue dragon’s head just as it came into range, cutting deeply into the tough, scaled skin and battering the dragon to the side. Leaning forwards in his saddle, the Elven rider slashed his sword towards the Dwarf, but the attack was smashed aside with a disdainful swat of the axe. Leaping forwards, Morgrim struck a thunderous blow with the ancient rune weapon into the dragon’s neck. The decorative blade bit deep into the sinuous creature, nearly severing its head. The dragon jerked backwards with a gurgling screech, dark blood pattering into the perfectly white snow. It crashed down into the ground, thrashing wildly in its death throes. The Dragon Prince tried frantically to free himself of the harness holding him to the saddle, but before he could manage the buckles, the dragon rolled over the edge of the precipice.

Just as it fell, the Elf looked up and locked eyes with Morgrim. Behind the ornate helmet, Morgrim could see pale grey eyes filled with fear, and the next moment the flailing pair disappeared from view, plummeting down into the clouds. The Dwarf stood looking over the drop, his eyes cold. As his kinsmen arrived breathless at his side, they gazed at their Lord in reverent silence. Eventually he turned to face them. In his gravelly voice, the Elfdoom told them that the Elves would pay dearly for their actions. Without another word Morgrim turned, shouldering his bloody axe and began walking...

Sources

  • Warhammer Armies: Dwarfs (4th Edition)
  • pg. 18
  • Warhammer Armies: Dwarfs (6th Edition)
  • pg. 10
  • pg. 11
  • Warhammer Armies: Dwarfs (8th Edition)
  • pg. 10
  • pg. 20
  • White Dwarf: The War of the Beard
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