Borin's Tales

Misadventures of a dwarf far from home undertaking a remarkable journey

A young dwarf standing in a grand hall with an anvil-shaped hole in the wall behind him

The Day I Almost Impressed a Princess

My name is Borin, and I am, by most measurable standards, unremarkable. I know this because my school report says so. Every year. In red ink. Underlined. Professor Grumthar even added a small drawing of a shrugging dwarf last semester, which I thought was a nice personal touch.

I'm forty-six years old, which — before you make that face — is perfectly young for a dwarf. We don't even start growing our third chin hair until fifty. I'm in my final year at the Underpeak Academy of Practical Sciences, in the great dwarven fortress of the Rumbling Deeps, where "practical" means they make you carry rocks up stairs for reasons no one has ever satisfactorily explained.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. You'll want the basics.

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Meet Borin

Borin is a dwarf with a blond beard, a keen sense of adventure, and an unfortunate tendency to find trouble. Whether he's reigniting ancient forges, solving tavern mysteries, or facing down dragons, his stories blend epic fantasy with humor and heart.

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