dwarf Returning to Stone

[Serf 647]

Death – Returning to Stone

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The sounds of battle and metal clashing echoed throughout Garrond’s Vale. Smoke risen high from the gates of Kal’Tarak as the Crownhold had been breached and claimed by the Empire of Man for the first time in history. High above the valley of Garrond’s Vale facing southwest, an old and wounded dwarf made his way through the unforgiving bitter cold of the mountains high above the clouds. Resting was not an option at the altitudes he had climbed, for at every moment of stopping, the snapping wind would have surely made quick work of him, freezing his ancient blood, or even tossing him off the edge of the path he took sending him down the slopes to a certain unfortunate death. The path to his destination was narrow and old. The way only marked by loose cobble that were at times, flooded with snow. When the path was not clear, the old dwarf would keep his covered hand to the rigid walls of the mountain, feeling for old runes he used as guidance to ensure he didn’t get lost along the way. Several hours passed before he made it to his destination, an entrance hidden to the naked eye. He felt his way to the hidden stone doorway before he placed his fingers snugly into the grooves of the rock, as if the grooves were made for his fingers only. After gaining momentum, the old dwarf managed to counterbalance the slab with his weight and push it to the side where it comfortably slid into a crevice. The warm air, compared to the outside rushed past him, creating a slight breeze that threw his snow-white hair back, and the old familiar smell of mildew and must filling his nostrils. He then turned and closed the stone entrance behind him, concealing himself in total darkness before descending further into the cavern. He hastily made his way down a narrow flight of stairs, moving at a speed which felt fast to the old dwarf. Soon he entered a large cavern space, shrouded in complete darkness, but for the readers sake, was a great antechamber in the making with pillars chiseled from solid stone, partially decorated with runework, and adorned with intricate carvings depicting events of the past. Several wooden ladders hewn together by rope rest upon the pillars,  placed there from when he was last at work. Lastly, a stone table sat in the center of the room between the four unfinished pillars with a open jar filled with blackened sand, and a leather bound utility belt equipped with the tools of a stonemason resting on top of it. Directly Below the table sat a purple and gold pillow, mostly used for meditation and comfort when resting on the hard floor. The darkness did not pose a threat for the old blind dwarf as darkness was something he had been used to for over a hundred years. He approached the table and laid out various objects from his travel sack, including a box of matches, and an old keepsake box. Producing several sticks of incense, he placed each one upright in the jar of sand before lighting them. The smell of mildew soon dissipated as the strong smell of incense filled the air. Satisfied, the dwarf soon disrobed, shedding his bloodied heavy furs and leather coat, leaving only a linen shirt and his plated battered leggings which were suspended by a pair of suspenders that rested over his broad shoulders. Lastly, the dwarf slid off his ring, a band that reminded him of his wife, Yula. Somebody that he hasn’t seen since the fall of Aegis, though his grief would soon subside as he thinks about ascending to the halls of Khaz’A’Dentrumm to be with her once more.

Moving a hand over the wound that lacerated his side, the bleeding would subside momentarily, though not enough to fully stop the bleeding. He would turn and prop himself up against the table as his mind begins to drift off, thinking over his long life and the choices he had made along the way. From the simple halls of Kal’Urguan to the Crownhold of Kal’Tarak, the dwarves had changed greatly during this time. It would feel as if he’d been living in a completely different timeline than the one that he’d been used to. The meaning of honor and oaths were completely disregarded. The beardlings of today could only hope to reflect what their ancestors had once done, and by attempting to do so, will only fail miserably. Thoughts of how great Urguan once was soon faded to how Urguan spiraled into failure and decadence. Of course, an old dwarf born within Urguan and loyal to the Grand Kingdom for so many lifetimes wouldn’t have sided with ‘wrongful usurpers’, though he did. Unfortunately Kaz’Ulrah followed in the footsteps of Urguan but at a much more rapid pace leaving the kingdom to only be a shell of what it once tried to represent. As the kingdom declined, it’s lovely image had done so as well, and its purpose soon became meaningless among the people that resided within it. Voices of the dark would begin beckoning the dwarf, calling out to him. Many of these voices would be recognized as his father, mother, brothers and sisters all lost in conflict, and lastly his beloved wife. The old dwarf would find reassurance as he spoke to these voices, a grin spreading across his face as he lets in his last breath of air before moving onto the realm of his ancestors, finally united with his true kin he’d known and loved.

[DrHope 609]

Kazrin shortly after leaving the city would hike up the mountain. Following his king he comes across a stone statue. Kazrins shifted his amber eyes at the stone statue before calling out to it. "Awaken" After hearing this, the golems eyes glowed a bright yellow as it came to life. It looked down at its impera "AWAITING COMMAND"  Kazrin ordered to follow him as he followed King Thoak. He halted the golem seeing the old dwarf shut the stone door behind him, dissappearing in the dark. Kazrin and the golem walked over to the stone door, now shut.  He then sighed as he knew what his king was doing. He looked at the golem and commanded him "you will stand watch over this tomb, no one but myself may enter" The golem looked down at its impera before nodding, it would later answer "I OBEY..." The golem walked in front of the entrance blocking it with its massive body. 

"Farewell mah king, may yer soul find its way to te 'alls of yer fathers"

Kazrin then walked away once more

[Fimlin 1997]

Fimlin amidst traveling home stops in his tracks as a breeze tugs at his beard, sensing a disturbance “Farewell.”

[Inferno_Ougi 1454]

Glottgut lowers his head at the death of Thoak. A wise dwarf, placed amidst utter chaos. His body was battered and aching, yet what pained him most was the loss of his friends.

[Josh3738 3137]

The old dwed would hear of the news of Thoak’s passing as he and his compatriots make their way slowly from the valley. A saddened look crosses his features. “T’ough weh were pitted ‘gainst un anotheh in th’ end, ah will always remembeh ye as ye were befure. Rest easeh now.”

[_Elrith_ 4525]

Elrith awaits the day when real Dwarves resurface to reform the Grand Kingdom of Urguan. For now he'll have to be content with the rubbish. 

[SimplySeo 6999]

Jorvin Starbreaker did not know Thoak Goldhand well, but he was a young Dwarf, raised in Kal’Tarak, and for his entire adult life, a citizen of Kaz’Ulrah. He was as loyal as any Starbreaker, and by the gods, he was loyal to his king.

 

Through panicked shouts as crowds of Dwedmar, young and old fled the vale, Jorvin among them, still battered from the battle, attempted to keep order in the chaos. Broken armor, a dulled blade, and bleeding from wounds on his head, Jorvin still counted himself among the lucky. As the last wave of refugees cleared the vale, Jorvin sighed, he knew they would either make it to Holm or Agnarum, and from there they would be safe.

 

Battered, the young Dwed perched himself upon an outcropping of rock, through the trees, and past the fields, Kal’Tarak stood tall as ever, now a tomb to his kinsman, and his king....

 

A pang of guilt hit him hard, and although he maintained his composure, it was not without difficulty. He would stare at the city for some time, before casting his gaze back to the crowd of refugees in the distance...Slowly he nodded, and his grip around his sword tightened.

 

Quietly, muttered in Dwarven, he speaks, as he begins to stand.

“ Rest, my king, your people /will/ be protected. ”

 

With that, his battered shield, slung over his back, was fitted once more to his arm, and the young Dwed moved to escort the citizens, to the best of his ability.

[Legoboy7984 3155]

Agnar Ireheart would smirk a little

“Hopefully now the true dwarves of Urguan can gather the innocents of Ulrah to join Agnarum so the dwarven might can be reunited again like it once was before Ulrah destroyed it killing many dwed.”

[lucasking321 124]

Borin Grandaxe would receive a letter about the news, he would then say softly  ” farewell and may Dungrimm guide yer soul.

[osumanduas 1442]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

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