Vraknheim Saga

Dwarf, great warrior and craftsman, fantasy (70k words so far).

I wasn't made for thrones or prophecy. I was made for the forge.

My name’s Doran Thargrimm—Forge Master, Ruin Scribe, and the last bastard alive from my clan. I carve power into steel and bend magic through hammer and flame. And the thing slung across my back? That’s Skarnvalk—half forge-hammer, half axe, all hunger.

When I stumbled across a dying world whispering secrets through ruined runes, I should’ve turned back. But the Blightened Path—the cult trying to twist the ancient forges into monster-making pits—forced my hand.

Now I fight beasts, bandits, and the kind of men who sell souls for power. I don't care about being a hero. I just want to stop the world from turning to ash.

But Skarnvalk is waking. And it's hungry for more than blood.

Forge. Fight. Survive. Repeat.