Storms Wrought In Iron

[Raglin 64]

 

Thunder.

 

It erupted in the wake of night, shattering the gentle nuance of the evening. Like a dragon's roar, it shook the very foundations of the land about him. Such a storm had not reigned in so long, so long since he had last slipped into the shadows of that dark cave. Like a phoenix, the blaze of a torch cast its reign upon the deep shadows of the hallowed cavern, casting the wanton tongues of fire against the reaches of shadow. A deep, resounding thud could be heard, as the boot planted itself near the great stone door.

 

The torch settled itself in the cast-iron sconce in which it had previously resided, so long ago, as the low form rose to the expanse of rock. With a deep, rumbling growl, the defiant screech of stone upon stone could be heard. Like the shattering of glass, the lightning's glow ahead pierced the stuffy darkness of the room of stone, small motes of dust already seen swarming about, as the heavy boulder was shoved aside, and down the grassy slope ahead. 

 

Rolling his burly shoulders, the elder dwarf peered ahead, the kiss of rain dappling against his dusty cheeks, washing away the years of settlement. With a deep, loud inhale, his storm blue eye opened wide to the world ahead. There was much anew, many things had changed, and yet here he was. Stalwart. 

 

His clan, no doubt dissipated to the whims of time, was long gone, leaving him bare and anew, as he had been so long ago. Wars long past, friends long dead, and a home forgotten, this was a land wiped clean of the dwarf's memories, and his legacy. There was a feeling of rebirth, resounding deep within his core, that drew his chest to a firm puff, and his jaw to jut forward, presenting that expanse of silver-streaked ebony.

 

"Back again."

 

(( I return to LOTC! I look forward to any and all RP ahead. ))

 

 

[Aengoth 2890]

An old dwarf salutes the returned elder.

[Publius 4098]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.