Moradin, Creator of under-earth and over, hear me prayer:
I pray ye look kindly upon the embattled people o’ Drellin’s Ferry, who are sore pressed by the Red Hand. The hole-dwellin’ beasties saw fit to show themselves today, a’fer we could even put me slain brother’s body in the ground. Well, know ye that ground is like to be a bit easier to dig, damp as it is with the blood o’ our enemies.
I pray, too, that ye accept me gratitude. Suren’ we lost two of our own in the monsters’ caves, but ye sent us replacements, and just in the nick o’ time. I’ll grant ye, a reedy little elf boy n’ a dog-man seem like strange pieces to the puzzle, but they fought well enough, and seem brave and true. I trust ye know what yer about, All-Father.
I ask only that ye guide me hammer, Moradin, to dispatch the Red Hand right quick, that I may sooner send me brother’s spirit on to ye. I promise, iffn’ ye can get past the daggers, ye’ll like ’im well enough.