Tomas of Tyr - two years hence

Tomas of Tyr (if he had a full beard)
Image by Kanaru92

[3 min read]

Tomas puts the heavy hammer down on the hard rocky earth of the foothills of the Galena Mountains, north of Eldrus, the handle damp with toil. Rubbing his face, feeling the stubble growing defiantly, he smiles ruefully and muses to himself.

"A great big dwarven hammer, the makings of a beard, hard stone under foot. Why Tomas, you're seemingly more and more a Torunn of Mithral Hall again."

But the facial hair is far from a dwarf in his prime, the rocks in the area are barren of precious metal, and switching to the maul as a weapon of war is a reflection of devotion to Tyr, the god of Justice, represented by his holy symbol depicting a giant hammer supporting scales.

"No, you'll shave this scraggly growth off, come back from the wilderness with head held high, to represent your deity, your town, and your company once more with pride Tomas of Tyr. Reconciliation with the dwarves of your homeland is a foolish fancy."

From his elevated position, Tomas regards the burgeoning town of Eldrus with pride. In the two years since the divine shard of Mystra was destroyed, requiring Tomas to sacrifice himself to save the town from destruction, the inhabitants had not been idle. His beloved temple of Tyr had been fully restored, the spire evident even from this distance on a warm, clear afternoon.

Wiping the blood off the large head of the hammer, Tomas looks at the red mass of broken, oversized  limbs crushed on the ground beside him. His ancient enemy, a slow-witted but cruel hill giant, had been threatening important trade into the town, and Tomas had volunteered to resolve the situation without endangering any of the militia. But the sojourn was as much to get out and to test his mettle using new abilities as it was a noble pretext.

Drawing on his strongest powers of holy sorcery, Tomas' inhuman speed had allowed him to close the distance rapidly. Tendrils of psychic energy had lashed out and stunned the already lumbering creature, and then the magical maul, recently enchanted with the aid of the College of Azuth, had gone to work. Three strikes, the final calling on the divine power of Tyr to smite his foe, and the giant was felled.

Grim satisfaction crosses Tomas' face as he recalls having suffered from these malicious oafs in the past, but vengeance always temporarily sated him. Tomas' combining of prayers to the divine and the study of the arcane has granted more than mere augmentation to his martial prowess - he now has the ability to revivify a fallen comrade - literally possessing the power over life and death.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he recalls the long recovery after his own brush with mortality. Tyr resurrected him after he used his life force to trigger the shield that saved the town, but for a brief moment in death Tomas was able to convene with his deity.

"Soon you will have to choose Tomas. You have been a faithful servant thus far, but you have many forces swirling around you and you will need to decide whom you serve... and as my tested and loyal servant you have earned the right to choose for yourself..."

During his long period of convalescence, Tomas would see his prematurely greyed hair reflected back at him from the silver symbol of Tyr prominently displayed in the temple, and be reminded of the question posed. Now, with his blood cooling, Tomas catches a glimpse of himself once more, this time in the shine of his newly restored weapon, and is resolved.

"I have decided, my god. I am your champion, your chosen. I am touched by your divine will, and I serve to mete out your justice."

Once more guided by purpose, Tomas sets off for the sanctuary of his temple, and the companionship of his company, Eldritch Inferno Incorporated. As he looks back wistfully at the slain giant, he thinks to himself.

"And if, by that same divine will, justice takes me back to my homeland to confront the corruption of the church, so much the better..."