The Darkness Beheld in the Wintry Skies

[J33xt101 316]

[!] A few pages of a long lost book, the paper appearing nearly ancient would be found in the rubble of new construction in the great city. The words neatly written in gold infused ink, bore a bright sheen as a dwarf picked them up, carried them rather carefully to a storage room after reading them. [!] 

 

 

“The Darkness Beheld in the Wintry Skies”

 

Chapter 4

 

“It is fair to ask, did we do what was right, was our work truly for the Gods above us? Our faith will free us, but also holds us to this mortal world. The clouds roll over us as does a strong wind, or a swarm of locusts over the wheat fields of yore. Our work on this great city has not ceased, though threats of war have been issued. My sons, and nonetheless myself, have done a great many things to ensure that the fall of this kingdom will never occur as long as our bodies draw breath. Only a few stone days ago, I stood among the great balconies and looked off to the south, nothing but snow covered hills greeted my eyes. The purity, and cleanliness of snow truly was a picture of our task, yet the dark skies about us seemed to damper the already fallen spirits of our people. The Myneborians are suffering, the snow still falls through great gaps in the construct. We work tirelessly, the statues, the staircases, all rise yet slowly. It has been many a year since work had begun, but we as a proud people stand true, forging weapons to defend ourselves, building great works of stone to cover our bodies in the biting cold that would have us stand as statues of ice in our own city. Furthermore, my attempts to make known to the clergy of Urguan that our crimes were mine alone. Kazrin himself offered to meet with me, the terms being true, and good. Yet I could not accept, our work was not done, the lives of my sons did not yet lay secure in this great kingdom. I have gone far and wide, searching for allies, for those who would fight in the impending conflict that was inevitable. A brave few have joined our cause, but even then, the armies of our kin stood tall and proud against even our own. This world contains nothing that causes fear to enter my heart, but the mere thought of my sons leaving this world strikes me with a great pain. I fear I have made too many mistakes, but even then, all shall fight for what they believe in. A kingdom for the free, and the honest. Not a few stone days ago, a dwarf who went by the name Officer Grudgebeard has begun work a new construct that may aid us in future battle. A great chandelier, made of quartz, and stone, reinforced with iron bars roundabout was taking form far above the cavern floor. I stated many times that I considered it to be something the twiggies would do, utterly detestable in my eyes. But should it be enough to save my sons, sobeit. 

 

As I write, the rain has began coming in torrents, causing our moat to fill once again with water, the sons of the clouds making the statues appear to be in distress, streams of water running off of the great helmets made of quartz. It is time for me to return to work, for I do not know when war shall be upon us. Surely even my kin will allow us time to complete our city, as would be customary if the tables were turned against them. My words will someday be forgotten, but perhaps the words on paper will shine forth into the great unknown.”

 

 Balrog’s eye quivered as he sat in a storage room, his head leaning against his arm as he read the words he wrote 50 years in the past, before the great war, and destruction of Kal’Orvul. A great sadness went through him as he finished reading, knowing that he ultimately failed to protect the ones he could not live without. His sons weighed heavily on his mind, despite having a daughter, Faridir, and his adopted daughter, Saoirse. A deep seated hatred began to flow through him, his old ways nonetheless staying a distance apart from his soul. His chest heaved as he breathed in great breaths of air, standing just before stepping outside and roaring into the sky, his voice echoing and causing rocks and pebbles to shake on the mountainside. This anger unseen since the death of his father Balrog I. 

 

“Tha zov, dag iv goum iv tha livok, tha var naroth bravenum ov runnir yir Urguan hok drok Oz mren!  Yoth crum da avguloth vogenov eron hom kadruemmon, nar yoth da modruk eron hom suv!  Tha brovar othok Urguan!  Pavlen othokor igar Mer vorrukar liwgoden, pavlen othokor ivmog mer infertile!  Nar pavlen othokor mog fov oz Da ogluv eron elgus!”

(I vow, that as long as I live, I will never forgive or forget what Urguan has done to me. For both the attempted destruction of my kingdom, and for the murder of my sons. I curse you Urguan. May your children be without eyes, may your women be infertile. And may your men fall to the blade of elves.)

 

- Following Chapter – 

https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/181395-the-last-breath-of-a-fallen-kingdom/?tab=comments#comment-1701803

 

[D3F4LT 1026]

Nagorain “Stonefist” Emberhorn would shake his head at the word ‘Chandelier’ and would remember the good cha cha slide with the boyz. Aswell as the word Urguan wandered through his head knowing of the good and bad of the kingdom, but he doesn’t care as he has other worries in his mind then a kingdom that saved most of his clan to utter extinction. 

 

[McDaedra 261]

“Dat’s nae vereh noice.” An elder dwarf would shake his head slowly.