RedaxeChief

Dutch, I hope you'll never regret it. Axe wrapped his left arm in fur, bruised from rolling down the hill. He gazed far up the hill at the killer who had kicked him down — a hooded fellow clan member. The killer may have been a benefactor to his father or to the Redaxe family; in any case, he spared his life, which was a good thing. Axe thought so as he limped away. "I need power. Nothing is more important than this." Axe found a cave to shelter in at night, left behind by his predecessors. Such caves, cut into the gentle slope of the mountain wall, were everywhere in the lower Gaulke Mountain. They were probably temporary shelters made by some clan member caught out late while hunting. Axe had lost everything he once had — a loving mother, a strict but gentle father, the title of young chief, and the glory of the Redaxe family. Dutch Ironheart, the gloomy Great Shaman, wanted to kill him. After becoming acting chief, the Great Shaman did not intend to spare the life of the old chief's son. "Cut off the roots" was the phrase that came to Axe as he gathered hay on the mountain wall. He, Axe Redaxe, swore in the name of the God of Cave War that he would find out the cause of his father's death and put the Cave Clan back on the right track.

Axe didn't like Middle Earth, especially the Dwarf lands, where the little people would always look at him in amazement and gasp, as if he were some rare animal. But Axe really loved Durin, with its fine wines, merchants, mercenaries, and travelers from all over the world. A drunken man in the tavern said Durin would not stay peaceful much longer, as a plague of insectoids raged outside. Perhaps this was an excellent opportunity. Axe tilted his head back, drained the dwarf ale in front of him, and paid the bill with the last coin he had. When he left Gaulke Mountain, Axe had only a little coin with him — that, and the Crimson Heart, the ancestral holy war axe of the Redaxe family. It was time to start fighting. The dwarf mercenaries were more than happy to take in such a strong warrior, and Axe fought the rampaging insectoids just as he had hoped. "A tough fight, big guy." A dwarf sat by the fire holding his firearm, glancing over at Axe, who was polishing his axe. Without the Crimson Heart, he wouldn't even have been able to walk out of Gaulke Mountain after losing the protection of the Cave Clan's magic ash. Axe didn't intend to bother with the dwarves — they were all chatterboxes, always talking endlessly. Every battle he encountered was tough. The mortality rate in the mercenary group was high. He wandered on the edge of life and death in every fight, fortunate to have survived.

The plague destroyed the proud civilization of the Dwarves, and the mercenary groups had to go their separate ways in silence. Now Axe had no fear of Dutch. The legacy of the Redaxe family, the trials of war, and the combat skills learned from the dwarves and mercenaries had allowed Axe to grow at a jaw-dropping pace. It was time, Axe thought as he lay in his tent. He had no intention of returning with the dwarves to suppress the poor goblin slaves. More importantly, Eagles, his father's friend, had found him and shown him the truth about the "Scarlet Road" incident. The Cave Clan was in danger, and Dutch's ambition would destroy them. With Eagles' help, Axe met with the elders of the Cave Clan and the Great Shaman of the Glacier Clan, who supported his return. Dutch had made the whole Cave Clan aggressive and crazed, which was not a good sign. The elders missed the Cave Clan under the leadership of Axe's father and the Redaxe family far more than they valued Dutch. When the truth of the "Scarlet Road" incident was revealed by Axe, conflict broke out at once. The Cave Clan was outraged. Dutch Ironheart and his followers were expelled from Gaulke Mountain by the angry people. Axe, the descendant of the Redaxe family, became the true Redaxe Chief, leader of the Cave Clan, with the support of his people. Time to stop the war, Axe thought as he rubbed the huge axe beside him.