One Last Plead For Gold

[KarmaDelta 969]

(A painting of Durack forging his time away.)

 

The Summer Month of The Grand Harvest, 1550

 

Durack could be seen sweating within the local Dwarven tavern after long hours of practicing his blacksmithing. 

 

In his mind, he gave sufficient time for a final response from his so-called brethren. He turned to blacksmithing to ease his anger for the lack of proper responses, so he began tapping his hand on the cracked table he made before. Others in the tavern continue to keep their eyes on him, for some fear another sudden outburst and ruining their relaxation within the tavern. Others though, see him as a Dwarf who took nothing from anyone, and commended his actions.

 

Durack, aware of the eyes on him in the tavern, would now get up and the crowd stopped what they were doing.

Durack would begin to take large strides, in Dwarven eyes, across the room and begins making his way up onto a table. 

 

People would clear their table and waits for his screaming proclamation, some even leaving the tavern to try and avoid the noise.

 

To much of everyon'e surprise, he begins to speak calmly,

 

"Ah would loike tuh apolojoise tuh all ove yeh fur meh ou'burs's. Ahm sincereleh sorreh. Da' es whoi ahm up 'ere, bu' alsuh to make, un true las' proclamation tuh moi kin, teh Gol'an's. All ove yeh, since ah knuh yeh've 'eard meh, 'ave ignored meh fur fah tuh long, and ah would loike tuh tell all 'leas' un ove yeh tuh come tuh meh, anehun w'o knuhs teh 'appenins ove ou'a clan. Ah see et as ah dis'oneteh tuh ignore meh, 'nd ah would loike tuh finish 'nd seh dat ef nae un comes up tuh meh nuh, ahm truleh takin' teh clan."

 

Durack would then step down and walk silently towards his regular seat in the corner, and begins playing with his coin.

 

The Tavern goers would be surprised, some even moved at his calm proclamation, and begin spread the word of this. Many Dwarves would begin say that the current Goldhand Clan seems dishonorable, some casting curses upon them from the Brath, some even just wanting to cut off all ties to their current state.

 

[ThumperJack 927]

A Doomforged strokes his beard from the corner of the tavern "Poor lad." He calls out to the lone Goldhand "'ey, laddeh! Nae maneh gol'ands 'roun' t'ese days. Ah've onleh seen Conan unce er twioce in meh rare visi's!"

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