| abstract
| - Dentaro was not a typical Doviello. In battle he was as ferocious as the next, which earned him his place in the tribe, but after battle, he would not partake in the feasting, the telling of exaggerated stories of bravery, or even the sating of other desires with the conquered peoples. No, after every battle Dentaro scurried about the battlefield, picking through the rubble. He examined each rusty blade, axe handle, chariot wheel, bits of sturdy bone or even teeth. These would be placed in his pack, and deposited in his home the next time they returned to Doviello lands. Worse, to his kinsmen's estimation, he would inspect any books they came across, reading some, discarding others. His older brother laid Dentaro flat the first time he caught him reading. The second time, Dentaro broke his brother's axe arm and knocked out three teeth, so the others left him to his eccentricity. Any Dwarven prisoner would be questioned closely by Dentaro. Unlike his peers, he would not ask where their wine, weapons, or wealth were. He asked them about steam, about mechanics, about enchantment. On this continued, late into his life. The tribe's fortunes waxed and waned, but gradually the enemy pushed them back to their tundra homeland, and pressed further. Then one night Urslo itself was threatened in a surprise attack, by disciplined soldiers. The sounds of battle awakened Dentaro, and the sounds of battle continued until they were drowned out by an unearthly roar. Dentaro's ramshackle house burst apart. The Doviello word for ‘machine' was invented that night, as Dentaro's War Machine emerged. It falls well short of even the practical Dwarves' standards of beauty, but no one can deny its effectiveness. Heavy crossbows fire as it drives forward, needing only periodic reloading. Blades sweep side to side, and more lances lead the War Machine's charge than a company of knights. Whether powered by magic, technology, some beasts running in circles inside, or an unholy combination of the three no one but Dentaro could even guess. The enemy at Urslo was wiped out to the man. The Doviello began to retake their old conquests, Dentaro at the lead. No one spoke of him as the odd one anymore, and even Dentaro's older brother began to introduce himself by his relation to the old misfit. Dentaro himself barely noticed his increased stature. After every battle, he climbs down from the War Machine, and begins to pick through the carnage, taking a blade here, a chariot wheel there, and adding it to his sack.
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