Zulban arrived at the fortress of Meetmetals with one of the first migrant waves. He was huge, but thin rather than bulking with muscles. Nevertheless, he was trained early as a war dog and assigned to Numal Dumatalm˘sh, a recruit Hammerdwarf. He wasn't the kind of dog to jump and fool around, Zulban took his job seriously, following Numal everywhere, his nose to the air and ears pricked for the first sign of trouble.
Trouble wasn't long in coming with an ambush of goblin archers and pikemen. Numal and Zulban ran towards the gates to fend off the small invading force, leading the rag-tag militia typical of a fort in its early days. Before they could meet, Numal took an arrow to her midsection. Then several more pincushioned her legs. She went to the ground with Zulban standing over her. A goblin pikeman rushed towards them and swung his polearm, slicing her almost in half. Zulban launched himself towards the goblin, only for it to dodge away from his bite. Unfortunately for the goblin, he landed on a cleverly concealed trap and was sliced into pieces as spinning blades flew up from the ground.
The other goblins suffered similar fates. The ones who dodged the clumsy attacks from the inexperienced militia found serrated discs and blades springing suddenly from the rocky ground, spraying blood and scattering limbs everywhere. The ambush was routed. The sole remaining goblin ran for his life and disappeared into the hills. The soldiers looked at each other, knowing that they had been lucky.
The militia, now stood down, joined the other dwarves in cleaning and collecting the spoils of the short battle. New weapons; cloth and leather trade goods. As small as the victory was, this would still help their fledgling fort trade for supplies.
Zulban lay down next to the body of his master at the gates of Meetmetals.
Numal's body was placed into the coffin deep underground. The tomb was prepared ahead of time by the expedition leader, who knew the unfortunate was likely to happen sooner than later. The floors had been smoothed and the walls engraved with pictures of heroes and myths of dwarven history. As the months and years passed, other soldiers would join her underneath the fort.
Today, the militia is well-trained, armed and armored, ready to take on any threat that might happen to get past the trap-lined valley of death that leads to the gates. Zulban has seen many more battles. He has limped to the safety of the fort with arrows stuck through his legs. He's charged at Trolls and strange beasts to see them back away and meet death in the form of suddenly appearing blades and spikes. He has met goblin swordsmen head-on and grabbed and torn at them as the hammerdwarves pounded their brains through the backs of their skulls.
His body bears the numerous scars from these encounters. Yet... to this day, years later, Zulban stands at the gates of Meetmetals. Soldiers pat his head for luck as they patrol past the gates and to the hills outside. Constantly on guard. Still "The pet of Numal Dumatalm˘sh."