Papa Rock 387 Share Posted June 22, 2022 Spoiler At the top of the mountain of Kal’Darakaan, there stands the shrine of the forge father. Its warmth it offers to pilgrims and travelers challenge the howling cold winds that occupy its peak. Standing within this shrine, this temple of the creator, is a dwarf knelt in prayer to the forge father and all the ancestor kin and at the base of his feet lies the herbs required for his struggle ahead, his purification. “Yemekar, Mah ancestral kin, oi must walk intu ah darkness. A darkness that es not ov aneh creature, not of deh drakki folk or deh dead dat still walk. Et is deh darkness ov meh own soul, theh whispurs ov deh betrayer that plague moi mind and tether etself tu moi wills an’ emotions. Oi onleh ask that you strike me down if oi return with a blackened heart.” As the radiant sun sets over the mountain and Dungrimm’s moon rises to light the forge temple with its luminescent silver light, the Starbreaker consumes the herbs. “Oi dont feel aneh differe-” the dwarf stands frozen in place, unable to move. The fires of the forge temple extinguish and smolder, the magma chilling into obsidian, the moon that fills the entrance grows a wide toothy smile while a cold chill runs up the aged dwarf’s spine. Thoughts, horrors, flood his mind, scenes of greed and gluttony, urges of unchained lust, the plague of unbreakable pride and selfish glory, and the slaughter led by his envy. The symbol of the forge father, an anvil sculpted into the wall of the shrine, bleeds red from its crevices. Visions of the dwarf’s hunger feeling like reality, his hand gripping a dagger carved with Grimdugan’s sigil that is plunged deep into the High prophet’s chest, The grand justicar’s back, the Grand king’s skull and the King’s Hand’s heart. Riches, fame, glory, heroism, justice. A hunger for power, the lust for knowledge and the envy to achieve it, the need for control of the strings of fate, over the people, not people, puppets. All puppets of a grander scheme, to serve a single purpose, himself. The bodies pile up at the base of the anvil, towering higher and higher until it eclipses the symbol of the forge father, covering Yemekar’s eyes from the dwarf’s presence. Black ichor stains the blood red that leaks from the anvil, black ichor bursts from the corpses of those slain by his hand. When the Lady asked him, “What is it you fear?” He lied, because what he feared was worse than what he had answered with, to mention its existence within his mind was to confirm that it existed, so as he usually did, he muffled the real truth with another lesser truth. Now he cannot lie, the barriers that he built up within his own mind broke down, the horror it held crawling out from it’s shadows. The black ichor dissolves the bodies and forms into a figure, it casts no shadow when the light of the moon hits it because itself is a shadow, but whose shadow? The figure completes itself, stepping closer to reveal a reflection, Ulfar starbreaker. He cannot lie now, not to himself when the truth stands right in front of him. His greatest fear is himself. The dark reflection grows a wide smile mimicking the moon’s, its lifeless eyes staring back into the dwarf’s. “Why du yeh hate me? Oi ahm yur true nature, the one yeh du not wish teh show others, but you know et, oi ahm yur ambition, yur very will manifested.” It speaks with Ulfar’s voice. “Moi ambitions are mah own, mah will is moi own, yu’re just deh whispurs of deh betrayur, his slitherin’ servant that was sent teh curse evreh khazad upon their birth.” Ulfar responds in cold sweat, his hand shaking as he stares his truth dead in the eyes. “You are roight about one thing, oi’m not yur ambitions, oi’m not yur will.” The reflection steps closer, “Oi am You.” “Yeh’ve killed deh Prophet, now you ‘ave all the riches, glory and knowledge you sought teh achieve. Deh justicar is dead, by yur blade, now you cahn serve justice upon those yeh marked with heresy because you are the judge, the jury and the executioner. The late king rests within hes tomb, the throne empteh with yur crown waiting tu rest upon yur head. The heretic, layed at yur feet an’ executed at yur will for wot he has done, justice served.” The reflection says as it folds its arms over its chest. “How did oi kill them.. theh..” the dwarf mutters shakes his head, “theh are mah kin, Oi did nae kill them.” Ulfar replies in denial. “You didn’t kill then yu say? But their blood stains yur clothes, deh weapon that tuuk their loife rests in your hands. Everythin’ yu’ve evur wanted deep down, yeh now have. All that needs tu be done now is teh turn Grimdal intu deh murderur.” the reflection speaks the truth, Ulfar did kill them. He took their life for his own goals to come into fruition, all he has to do now is shift the blame onto another. This was his reality, he slaughtered those who stood in the way of his ambition, stood in the way of his thirst for knowledge and held him back from what he is supposed to become. The monsters he kills are nothing compared to what he has turned into. “Oi cannot let dis continue, yur ah monstur, Oi’m ah monstur.” Ulfar says, the reflection speaking in unity with him. “Yu are me, so if oi die, you die.” He says as he raises the blade up to his chest, the bloodied tip pressed against his heart. The dark reflection smiles wider, no longer standing in front of Ulfar, but behind him. Whispering manipulation into his ear with its darkened hand guiding Ulfar’s blade against his chest. “Yesssssss… Thrust yur blade deep entu yur heart. Yeh’ve killed yur clan kin, yur kin, yu cannot be forgiven, yeh cannae redeem yurself. Yu cannot even control yur uwn blade. End it so that oi may reign, yur true intentions.” Ulfar feels himself slipping away, a familiar feeling he felt before when at death’s door. The blade begins to draw blood, a tense pain coming over him as his chest is punctured at the surface. In these last moments, the moon’s silver light shines against the symbol of the forge father, and its reflective light hits the dagger causing the blade’s star like nature to glow a soft silver light. A light that caused the reflection’s guiding hand to sizzle and retreat. The dark reflection returns to the front of Ulfar, its face shifting, frowning, the wide smile turning upside down. “Hwot are yeh doin’? Finish et, yur ah danger tu yur kin, luuk at those yeh’ve alreadeh killed, do yeh think they will be deh last? Nae!” the creature roars out. The aged dwarf pulls the dagger away from his chest, its tip sliding out of the small surface wound. “Yu are jus’ me, but oi ahm in control. Tha’s why yu cannae kill me, that es why yeh whispur, that is why yeh are standin where yu are and why oi ahm standing where oi am. Yu are jus’ deh shadow that mimics me, ah shadow that es cast when oi stand in deh light ov mah kin.” A warmth begins to fill Ulfar as he speaks, as his mind comes to realization of why he is here in the first place. “Yu believe oi cannot hurt you? Oi cannot kill you?!” The dark reflection extends its hand out with dreadful speed and dips its fingers into Ulfar’s mind. “Look at what OI have alreadeh done!” it roars with pride. Ulfar stands there, watching the corpses of his children and wife lay at his feet, their beards torn off and eyes plucked. “THEY WUR IN YUR WAY, SO OI GOT DEM OUT OV YUR WAY!” The reflection and Ulfar say in distorted unity. “YU’RE FATE IS SEALED, YOU CANNOT ESC-” The dark reflection’s voice stops, a silver dagger of Grimdugan thrust deep into its black heart. “May Yemekar and his General cast ah light upon meh and moi kin so dat not even deh shadows we create can exist in our presence.” He says as the silver light of the blade grows stronger and brighter, the dark reflection screeching in horror as black ichor spills from its wide toothy grin. Ulfar leans into the dark reflection to offer a whisper in return, “Oi ahm without darkness, Oi ahm without deh whispurs of deh betrayur, Oi am without deh serpent that slithers moi soul. Oi ahm without greed for treasure an’ glory, for all riches must ‘ave purpose an’ without et, deh are useless, nor do Oi envy those who achieve greatur then me, for their victory es moi own an’ moi victory is theirs. Oi ahm moi kin an’ moi kin is me, deh Ancesturs fill our bluud an’ so we shall not forget our origin, our history an’ our faith. Oi am not deh doom ov moi kin, nor ahm oi their savior, Oi ahm simply, Ulfar ov deh Kornazkarumm.” And with that, the dark reflection withers away, turned to nothingness as its existence is no more within this aged dwarf. Ulfar wakes, his eyes open to the warm forge shrine of the world maker, his clothes soaked with sweat and his chest stained with blood, blood that bled from a small wound in his chest. He stands up from the ground and looks to the anvil, his body weak and tired from all the pain he went through. A gentle smile forms over his face with relief before turning to the exit. The glowing moon sets over the mountains as the stars leave the sky, Ulfar watches the radiant sun rise from over the horizon and shine its radiant light upon the mountain of Kal’Darakaan for the beginning of a new day. 16 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Xergarok 295 Share Posted June 22, 2022 Grimdal Irongut would be selling his smokes that day. Just like any other day, really. He hadn't seen Ulfar in ages, his mind set on other things. If only he knew what his friend was going through. Blinded by his own self-perceived problems he shouted. "Ayo, woi dun't yeh troi t'es one on dah house?" He would then join whoever he was talking to, having a taste of his own wares. If only he knew. 4 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
The Harbinger 336 Share Posted June 23, 2022 Glod looked to the shrine of Yekemar, seeing the tracks left behind. "Looks look sommon wunted Ter repent. Let's 'ope t'ey succeeded." He mused, noting the small remains of herbal matter, and a small amount on blood on the floor. The thick red of dwarf blood. 2 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Valannor 6345 Share Posted June 25, 2022 The Keeper watched over it all, the light-woven restraints binding Ulfar to the floor as hallucinogens took their toll, the dwed trapped in a hell of his own making. Stalwart, she lingered for hours - standing as sentry as he thrashed and howled, lost to the world around him for hours. The gleaming moon dipped below the sky as the drugs wore away, lucidity slowly returning to the dwarf. From the darkness, golden hues peered down upon him - a smile of gentle approval on the Lady's maw as his eyes opened, and his labored breaths began to still. "Know neither sin nor vice, my champion. You have weathered the flames - and you emerge changed. Refined. Honed. Return to me, dear one. Your faith shall be honored in our halls forevermore." 5 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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