Drór Tombmirth was once a happy man, a man with a clear and honorful purpose in life. That purpose was quite simple; it was his family. His wife, and his two beutiful daughters to be specific. But that all changed one dark winter night...

Drór was out working on his farm that stormy night. The winds were harsh, and a tree had fallen over one of the fences that kept his animals inside their pen, and he was busy mending it when he heard screams coming from his small house a couple of hundred meters away. He started running back to his house, and as he approached he saw that the door was hanging off its hinges, and that there were axemarks on it. He stormed inside, brandishing the hand axe he always wore, to find a scene of carnage. His wife was lying in a pool of blood, her head removed. He saw telltale signs of hooves, and he quickly understood that beastmen was at fault. He placed a cloak over his beloved wifes still warm corpse, and then grimly strode up the stairs to the loft. Once there he strode up to the large black chest standing in the corner. He removed a large key from his belt and slowly unlocked it, and then opened the lid. Inside were some of his fathers belongings. He lifted away a large cloak, a slightly rusted helmet, and then withdrew a large item, wrapped in velvet cloth.He sat down on the floor and slowly unwrapped the package, and from its depths he withdrew a large double bladed war axe. It gleamed slightly in the moonlight that entered the windows, and he thought to himself: "I swore i would never take up this weapon again. But now i have no choice. My wife will be avenged and my daughters returned to safety, or i will die in the attempt to save them!". He grabbed the weapon and headed downstairs again. He walked outside and studied the ground, and quickly saw that it seemed like there must have been atleast half a score of beastmen to make such a large amount of tracks, and he understood that he would have no chance at defeating a band like that without help! He would have to go to the town. Surely someone there would be willing to help him!

He got his cloak and started to march to the town a few miles away, and in only an hour he arrived, cold wet and hungry, but very determined to find help. He decided that the best place for him to find swords was in the tavern, and so thats where he started out. He walked in and cried out his plight, but he could not find a single man willing to take on this quest! Everyone seemed to be old and weary, or far too young. Just as he had decided that he would go out alone, and almost certinly die for his children, a party of dwarfs entered from outside. They all brandished weapons and armor, and looked like veterans of many battles. They even had two Slayers in their midst! Drór quickly approached the dwarf in the lead and explained his plight. When the dwarfs heard his tale they decided that this was a quest that they could not turn down! And so the Warhammerers embarked on their now famous quest to slay the dreaded Chaos Beastmen band that had plagued the area for half a score of years!

The dwarfs quickly exited the town and returned to Drórs cottage, where the party started tracking down the foul beasts. It only took the group a few hours to find the Beastmen, having built camp in a small forest west of Drórs cottage. Ibun slowly crawled forward until he spotted the warband. It seems that the band that had abducted the women were only a splinter of the warband, for there were three scores of beasts in the wood! Ibun crawled back and told his ad hoc regiment about this, but this did not stop the dwarfes! They readied themselfes and then charged into the glade, weapons spinning and armor ready to take blows! The dwarfs were outnumbered three to one, but with sheer skill and determination they slowly started to whittle down the Beasts numbers, until only 12 remained, and one of those was a huge champion of chaos. The brave lad Grimrol Snowfeather charged the beast, and after only a few blows was struck down. The battle suddenly seemed to freeze, as noone struck a single blow. Then Drór jumped into action, charging into hand combat with the foul beast, and after a few deft strokes of his axe the beasts head fell to the ground. At this sight the beastmen broke ranks, and started to flee, but were hunted down within moments.

After the battle the party searched the campsite for signs of the women, and after a few moments of searching they found grim evidence that the girls were dead. A human leg that was roasting on a spit, and a bloodied dress thrown down next to the fire. Drór was devastated, and had no idea what to do. The other dwarfs let him have peace for a few miniuties, and then he returned. He then proceeded to pledge his life to the Warhammerers, as a token of his gratitude, and he has been with the team ever since.