Igbot the Infiltrator

Igbot grew up in a gnomish city deep in underdark in the mountains of the Prustan peninsula. As a little gnome (ok, "littler" gnome) he heard terrible stories of ruthless, dark dwarves that inhabited the deepest parts of the world. For this reason, despite being almost one with the rock, no gnome ventured too deep in the endless underdark for fear of never returning. The evil of the dark dwarves became legend alongside
tales of terrible dragons and vile demons. And such tales of darkness remained legend until the time of the fourteens war.

Igbot was a teenager at the time when the first attack struck. Up from the depths the dark dwarves (or duergar as he later learned they were called) attacked. Their onslaught was well-planned and well-executed. The many peaceful years have left the gnomes defenses and forces weak. Their leisure-time pursuits were mainly of gadgets and magic, not war. But in the end, this turned to be in their favor.

The gnomes' magic proved powerful. Far more powerful than the duergar had estimated. Where the gnomes truly lacked in armies, their mages created from illusions. The initial attacks of the duergar were rebuffed not by overwhelming forces, but by their own minds. What the gnomes only a
day earlier had considered joyful parlor tricks became destructive weapons on the battlefield.

The battle ended, but not without great loss. Igbot formed an instant hatred of the duergar so much so he surprised himself. He lost many friends in the initial attacks and evil of duergar were to blame. The duergar showed no mercy to man, woman, or child. His hate overwhelmed him until it became him.

He never had interest in magic even considering the great effect it showed in defeating the duergar. He found himself with a natural aptitude for stealth. To go where he pleased without notice. He focused his hate to make use of what skills he had been granted. It would be his quest to defeat the duergar.

Without permission and likely against the wishes of anyone he might have consulted, Igbot traveled deep into the underdark. He went for days deeper and deeper into caverns and chasms
he had never seen. Yet not once did he find himself lost. It became a game to test himself
as to which way home was - and he always knew. And he always knew he was right.

He quickly learned to spot the signs of where duergar had recently been. Each time it gave more clues as to where their city lie. He learned to avoid
them, hide from them, and in the rare case when he found one alone, assassinate them. He survived several weeks below before he tracked his way to their city. It was far below any depth gnomes had gone. But he was still surrounded by rock. It was still home. He crept amongst the smallest crevices of the city to avoid detection and became quickly aware of duergar plans for more attacks. He did not understand their language but preparing for war is a universal tongue.

This caused no panic in him. He knew the duergar were extraordinarily susceptible to the illusions of the gnomes. He felt confident in their ability to defend and now they will surely be more prepared.

Igbot left the duergar city and returned home in a trip that took no longer than 3 days. As he had guessed, he truly did know the way.

He told the high gnome mages of what he had seen and told them to ready their illusions for yet
another attack. He gave precise details of their numbers and armaments. He recounted the strange magics he had seen them use and the devices they possessed.

Their looks contained far more concern than he expected. The high mages told him
that its likely the duergar will be better prepared. They will train and obtain magics to resist the illusions. With each attack the effectiveness of illusion magic will be lessened. Maybe not today, and maybe not tommorow, but eventually - the duergar will prevail.

Igbot asked what he could do. The mages thanked him but told him he could not help now except to sharpen his blade. They must perpetually work to advance their magics to make their illusions even stronger for the impending attacks. The mages left him. All save for one.

Gredal, one of the eldest mages stayed and simply stared at Igbot. He then began telling him a story. A story that told of an age-old agreement that the gnomes had made with the good Dwarves of Dwarvenhearth. The dwarves at the time were at war with trolls and their victory was all but certain. As part of their agreement, the gnomes sent a small band of adventurers to help in the war. Truly, the adventurers were not there to fight, they were there to protect the cargo they carried.

The gnomes sent the good Dwarves of dwarvenhearth a band carrying the Necklace of Glitter. An item so powerful as to allow any gnome to create wonderous illusions so real that they must be believed. Weeks past before the gnomes received word of their men. The news was good in that because of the gnomes, the dwarves had defeated the trolls. But the band of gnomes were lost, and with them, the Necklace.

Gredal told Igbot that one more blade will not make a difference in the upcoming war but Necklace itself would. Gredal quietly turned and left Igbot alone.

Igbot's resolve gathered and quickly took control of him. He left his city to set out for the catacombs of Dwarvenhearth.